Free Perfectly Broken by Prescott Lane

eyes and nose, certain she looked like a hot mess. In between dabs, she saw the young receptionist drooling over Reed. “I’m sorry about all this.”
    “Please stop apologizing,” Reed said. “I told you I’ve had a good time. And I’m glad she’s fine.”
    “Excuse me,” the young receptionist called out, handing Reed her business card. “I’m here all night, in case you want to call and check on things. I put my cell number on the back in case the main line is busy. We sometimes get a lot of calls at once.”
    Reed took the card and handed it to Peyton without looking at it. “At a nursing home?”
    “Yeah, it can get wild,” the receptionist said, batting her eyes. “Real wild.”
    Reed opened the door for Peyton, and they started down the street together, strolling past antique, jewelry, and costume stores. “Do you ever get sick of women throwing themselves at you?”
    “Do you ever get sick of men throwing themselves at you?”
    Peyton shook her head. “That never happens.”
    “You just don’t notice, or don’t try to notice — one or the other.”
    “You must have had too much of Gram’s candy,” she teased, her eyes landing on a pair of white pearl G-string thongs in a lingerie store window.
    “There were these two guys at Emeril’s whose dates punched them in the arm because they eyed your ass when you stood up and walked outside on the phone.”
    Peyton laughed. “That didn’t happen.”
    “Yep, it did. And then when you were on the phone outside, another guy walked by you and did a double take.” Reed looked back over his shoulder, trying to get the name of the lingerie store. “Dating you is going to drive me crazy. I’ll probably get in a lot of fights.”
    “You probably use these lines all the time.”
    “What? It’s true. I saw it all. They were probably wondering if you were wearing that pearl G-string.” Peyton looked down, a tight smile on her lips, a rosy blush on her cheeks. “I saw you looking back there.”
    “So what if I was?” She gave him a sweet smile, as they reached his Range Rover.
    “Hey, you won’t see me complaining,” Reed said, opening her door. “Are you wearing those now?”
    “Of course. I always wear them on first dates. Don’t you?”
    Reed laughed and gave her a peck on the cheek. He liked where this was going: the sweet touches, the implication they’d spend more time together, the panties, the good vibe he got from meeting the family — well, just Gram. He rushed around the truck to get in. “Well, we missed our dinner, but lucky for you, I have a Plan B.”
    * * *
    Reed parked next to Jax Brewery and brought Peyton up a stairway to Woldenberg Park. They found a little bench to watch the barges float down the Mississippi River, a breeze blowing off the water and through Peyton’s hair. He pointed at a shiny glass building surrounded by old wharves. “I designed that one.” Peyton cocked her head to the side and bit her bottom lip, quietly considering the building for a moment, its newness such a contrast from those around it. Reed reached for the back of his neck. “You don’t like it?”
    “It’s beautiful.”
    “What’s wrong with my building?”
    “Nothing.”
    “ But ?” Reed poked her in the side.
    “But....”
    “Tell me. I want to know what you think.”
    “It’s just that I remember the building that used to be there.”
    “Me too,” he said. “It was full of cracks and holes. It was an eye sore.”
    Peyton shrugged her shoulders. “The Leaning Tower of Pisa is crooked. And the Colosseum in Rome has a bunch of damage. You’d tear those down?”
    Reed sat back, a small smile on his face, not about to get into some emotional or intellectual debate about progress, the economy, or historical preservation on a first date — especially a debate he knew he’d lose.
    “But don’t get me wrong,” she said, “you’re obviously really good at what you do. It’s beautiful.” She smiled at him. “And what