Page 6 of Marked With Love

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“I’m a vegan.” The table goes quiet.

“She’s joking.” Blake kicks me under the table while shooting me a glare.

“Ouch, it was only a joke,” I tell Porter, hoping Louis doesn’t actually come out to the table. I've been dodging his sister’s request for a tattoo. Honestly, I was doing the girl a favor after I saw what she wanted done.

She’ll thank me in five years. I’m just not sure Blake is going to thank me after tonight.



She’s warmingup to me. She spoke more than two words, and she smiled in my direction. Progress is being made. I’m not texting my mom and telling her to prepare the wedding party, but it’s better than the cold shoulder I was treated to earlier.

“A scotch drinker?” I tilt my head to get a better look at Morgan. She’s so pretty it makes my teeth ache. And other body parts.

“Is that odd? A girl can’t drink scotch?”

“Booze is gender neutral in my book and goes well with beef bourguignon, which is what I intend to order. You?”


“Solid choice. It’s a French restaurant, and no one does snails better than the French.”

“You hate snails,” Blake interjects.

“I’m acquiring a taste for them,” Morgan declares with a sweep of her chin. “Besides, Eros says that they’re great here.”

“Flynn, please,” I say. I can’t have my future wife calling me by that dumb name.

“The maître d’ can call you Eros, but the rest of us have to call you by the name of a Disney prince?”

Disney prince? I cast a plea for help in Matty’s direction, but he can only shrug in ignorance.

“Flynn Ryder!” exclaims Blake. “The hero inTangled.”

Matty and I stare at each other blankly.

“God, cretins,” Blake sighs in what looks like disgust.

“I likedCoco,” Matty tries to save himself. “I watched that three times with the nephews.”

“Flynn’s my middle name,” I add, trying to salvage my own situation. “And it was my great-grandpa’s name, and we don’t have any princes in our family tree.”

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” Morgan replies. She pauses as our drinks are delivered. “It’s just Eros is cool.”

I press a finger against my broken nose. “That’s one perspective.”

“Is everyone ready?” the waiter asks.

Everyone places their order. Morgan does not get snails but instead opts for scallops in a butter sauce. I order the beef, as does Matty. Blake gets snails.

“They sound good.”

“They are a specialty here,” the waiter preens.

“Where do people like getting tattoos?” I ask when the waiter leaves.

“Arm is the number one spot. Women like to do their backs or ankles. Men seem to love the biceps.”

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