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She’d be the first one to admit she has faults, but she’s not a bigot. The genetic pool in her nuclear family spans the globe. And it’s not that she’s prejudiced against people with disabilities but that doctors and wheelchairs give her the heebie-jeebies. So when a cute guy in a chair keeps showing up in the restaurant, she’s clumsy, awkward and strangely drawn. Can Irene let go of the past or is she too emotionally broken to find a future worth the risk?
Enjoy an excerpt:
The restaurant buzzed with conversation and the familiar clank of silverware on plates. Movement near the front made me glance over. A massive, shaggy-haired creature stared up at me from under table one. My heart pounded. It looked like a fucking bear. I screamed. Everyone in the restaurant turned to look.
Adam trotted over, his face aflame. “Mom, get a grip.”
As I moved toward the table, I pointed to the bear and scowled at the guy sitting beside it. “What the fuck is that?”
He looked up at me, a man about my age, who had the most amazing blue eyes. “Um, it’s a dog, ma’am. A Newfoundland. He’s very civilized. He’s a—”
“You can’t have a dog in here,” I shouted as he finished “—service dog.”
That’s when I noticed the bear’s blue backpack.
“Shit. Oh, I’m so sorry…” Great. Now I was yelling at the disabled. I moved to get out of the way of the huge dog. Something jabbed into my hip, and the guy with the great eyes jerked sideways. He clutched the table and swore.
I looked down and saw the wheelchair I’d just bumped into—unobtrusive, low-slung, a nice red that blended in with our décor.
“Sorry.” I grabbed the handle to straighten it back out for him.
“Don’t!” he barked.
I backed away, mortified. Adam glared at me. Someone put a hand on my shoulder.
Edward smiled down at me. “I see you’ve met my friend, Mark Redfield. Mark, this is Irene, the mother of our charming server. She’s quite pleasant most of the time. Maybe you could bring us some pie?”
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