Taking Chances (Learning to Love) Read Online Free PDF Page A

grabbed another roll and three more pats of butter.
    Gary managed to keep to himself through the salad and a course of pasta that seemed more like a mini meal than a prelude to something more.
    "You going to finish that?" he asked, gesturing to the pasta I hardly touched.
    "If I did, I'd never make it to the entree." I pushed the plate toward him and smiled.
    As they began bringing out the main entree, a tall man in a dark suit walked in and sank down into the empty seat across from me. I didn't recognize him. He wasn't at the church for the rehearsal. I would have noticed him for sure. He looked about late twenties, with a tall muscular build, and expensive taste in clothes. His hair was dark, buzzed on the sides and spiked up on top perfectly. His eyes were a sparkling ocean of blue that were so deep I lost myself for a moment. He noticed me practically drooling at him and a smile crossed his luscious mouth, which caused a deep heat to spread across my cheeks.
    Normally I was not so easily affected by men. Sure I noticed when a gorgeous guy walked in a room, but I was not usually the one sitting open-mouthed, and wide-eyed like a school girl.
    "So, Gary, what do you do for a living?" I asked, desperate for a distraction to take my mind off the Adonis sitting across from me. I could feel him watching me and my face burned hotter.
    "I'm a manager down at the Shop and Bag over on Tenth Street," Gary said proudly, stabbing through three hunks of potato wedge and shoveling them into his waiting mouth. "What about you?" he asked with a mouth full of half chewed spud.
    "I'm a hired assassin for the CIA," I said, not wanting to get too personal.
    Gary spit a large chunk of meat at the hunk across the table. My eyes landed on the hottie, horrified and embarrassed, as if it were me who was to blame. I expected the stranger to be angry, or disgusted, but instead, he sat there looking right into me with a small crooked smile.
    The heat in my face intensified and spread down my neck and chest. I had no idea why my body was reacting so intensely to a total stranger. It could have been the fact that he was the kind of gorgeous that was usually found on the front of GQ or walking down a runway in Milan, but that never usually got to me. It had to be something else, though what, I had no idea.
    Gary jumped from his seat and darted around the table. He pawed at the stranger's jacket with his napkin, apologizing profusely, smearing the remnants of meat around on the man's lapel.
    "I'm so sorry. I can pay for the dry cleaning. Oh my God. I… I can't believe that happened," Gary stammered.
    "It's fine," the hottie across the table said, his voice cold as ice, and grabbed Gary's sweaty wrist to stop the assault on his jacket. His amusement faded. He flashed Gary a serious look, warning him to step back.
    Gary immediately froze and stared at the stranger as if waiting for permission to return to his seat. Rather than give him whatever unspoken expression he seemed to need to move, the gorgeous, and quite intimidating stranger, got up from his seat, walked around the table, and sat down next to me. He turned toward me and extended his hand with a smile, flashing his dazzling perfect white teeth.
    "I'm Sebastian Michelson." He was completely focused on me, despite the fact that the best man was now tapping his wine glass to get everyone's attention.
    Tiny flutters danced around deep in my belly and my cheeks stung hotter than before. He looked amused, waiting for me to come to my senses and take his outstretched hand. I let out the breath I realized I was holding and took his hand for a quick shake.
    "Lexi James," I managed to get out of my mouth, which was suddenly feeling quite dry. I downed the champagne that was sitting in front of me to wet my parched throat.
    Owen, the hot best man, finished speaking and people got up to mingle. Justin walked over to us and Sebastian jumped to his feet to pull Justin into a friendly hug.
    "You're late, Bas,"