Page 80 of Finding Redemption

“A little.” She holds up her fingers. “I don’t know. I’m pretty easy.”

“The hell you say? I’ve been trying to get into your pants for weeks and it’s not been easy.”

“And you’re still an asshole.” She winks at me.

“Tell me something that makes me feel normal,” I plead. “Give me some dirt.”

“Not much to tell. I was raised poor in southern West Virginia with an overbearing mother and a father who left us when I was little for another woman and her child.” She bites her nail as she talks. “Basically, I have daddy issues.”

“That could be fun. Not dirty but we can work with it.” I waggle my brows.

“So swarthy, Mr. Pennington.” Her brows fall over her eyes. “He’s been reaching out to me lately. Apparently, I moved not far from him, much to my mother’s disapproval.”

“Can you blame her?” I reach over, taking her thumb from her mouth slowly. “Where’d you go to college?”

“Marshall University until I transferred to law school at West Virginia University.” She sips her drink, picking at her food.

“Not so hungry now? Or was it that bad?” I chuckle.

“It’s great. Let’s eat and forget this shit.” She twirls the pasta onto her fork and takes a big bite. Sauce drips on her chin.

I lean in, rubbing it off with my finger. “Do you make everything sexy on purpose?”

Her face flushes. She averts her eyes. “No, not at any time.”

“I disagree.”

“Where did you go to college?” She takes another mouthful of food.

“University of North Carolina. I was a legacy. It was expected.”

“By whom? Your father?” Her eyes dart to her plate.

“No, I’m lucky when it comes to family. I suppose I succumbed to others’ thoughts and opinions on my life.”

“The hell with that. You should be living your life the way you want.”

My gut twists at the thought. “I know. Maybe, I should start?”

“What do you mean?” Her brows pull together.

“Oh, Reese Morgan. Why do I have the urge to tell you everything?”

She smiles coyishly and shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s weird. I feel as if I’ve known you my entire life.”

“I agree.” I take her hand. “Now, tell me all the details of your life and leave nothing out.”

Her eyes grow round. “Where should I start?”

“Favorite color? Favorite sport? Team? Birthday? How old are you? Favorite pair of panties? Matter of fact, I’ll find that out on my own. But you get the gist here.”

“Color is blue. Sport is football. The Panthers, duh.” She taps her chin, squinting her eyes. “I’m twenty-seven. Favorite panties? None. I hate them.” Her lids fall heavily over her eyes.

“Me too. To all of the above.”

Her mouth pops open. She pretends to slap me. “You’re a hot mess.”

“We have so much in common and yet, I feel like I could spend eternity getting to know you.”