Bailey
I sip a cocktail in a quiet restaurant a few blocks away from Bourbon Street. It’s a quiet Friday night because of the rain, but I don’t mind.
Tanner leans back in his seat with an empty plate in front of him. That man can eat, that’s for sure. No one has ever complimented my cooking like he does, and tonight he’s already spoken to the chef of this little establishment twice, showering him with praise.
I smile at the thought and slide my leg against his under the table. He opens one eye and smiles softly at me.
“You look like you had a long day,” I tell him.
He shrugs. “Yeah, well. It’s been a long week. You’ve been gone, I’ve been splitting time between the job site and my shift at the firehouse.”
“Well, we’re home all weekend.” I grin. “I think staying in bed until Monda
