Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
I never thought I’d wear it, but standing here in the matching heels, I almost dare to feel beautiful.
But Zack’s reaction could shatter or assure me.
I mutter a silent prayer that he likes it. Today has been so amazing, sitting on the balcony sipping iced tea and painting the city as I’ve never seen it before, hardly able to believe that in the space of a day I’ve gone from wishing for my dream life and then living it.
If it wasn’t for the two sour spots poisoning the perfection – Jerry and my not ready-ness – I think I’d be the happiest woman alive.
Zack opens the door slowly, causing it to creak and send even more shards of nervous anticipation stabbing through my body.
“Just throw the damn thing open.” I laugh shakily. “You’re making me crazy nervous right now.”
He chuckles and pushes the door open the rest of the way. His massive frame fills the doorway, all six and a half feet of him, clothed in a dark blue suit that hugs tightly to his explosive muscles.
Every part of him heaves, seems to expand as he gazes at me. “Fucking hell, Zoey. You look incredible. Go on. Give me a twirl.”
“A twirl?” I giggle for no other reason than it feels good, it feels right. I’ve never laughed so freely before. “Okay, Zack Stone, but you should know I’ve never twirled, not once in my adult life.”
He smirks as he walks into the room slowly, his fingers twitching like he’s imagining all the things he’d like to do to me. “If there’s one thing we can agree on, it’s that today is a day of firsts.”
I spin around, feeling a little silly but glad to let all the dread and paranoia of Jerry and all the rest of it fly away for the moment, for the night. I want tonight to be special just as much as Zack does… even if I’m not sure I’m going to be able to make it as special as he wants me to.
When I complete my second spin, Zack is on me, his hands on my hips as he pulls me close to him. I gasp but then he presses his lips against mine, stilling the sound, his welcome heat pushing my mouth open so our tongues can dance together.
I slide my hands up his arms and grasp onto his shoulders, squeezing down so hard I’m sure his muscles are going to snap my fingernails. Every single part of him surges, expands, burns against me.
He breaks off the kiss with a low growl.
“What’s wrong?” I say, looking up at him.
He shakes his head slowly. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s right. It’s just that if I keep kissing you I know I won’t be able to stop. You’re beautiful, Zoey, absolutely gorgeous.”
I roll my eyes, instinctively trying to push the compliment away.
“I mean it,” he says firmly, taking my face in his hands and forcing my gaze back to his. “It’s about time you started believing me when I tell you how beautiful you are.”
A blush creeps over my cheeks and my neck. I feel it heating my skin up and I struggle to nod, the closest I can get to outright agreeing with him.
“So, where are we going?” I ask, keen to change the subject.
His compliments send flurries through me, welcome and intoxicating, but they can’t help but also bring with them answering shivers of self-consciousness.
“That’s a surprise,” he says, with that captivating smirk of his. “But I remember how you said you were nervous about eating in a fancy restaurant with a bunch of stuck-up people.”
I nod fiercely. “Yeah, that’s an understatement. Butterflies are flapping their annoying-as-heck wings in my belly right now. But for you…”
He leans forward, kissing me on the forehead. “I thought I’d go for something a little quieter. I want to take you to a restaurant, truth be told… I’d drag you there if I had to. But it’s this damn Jerry situation. I think it’s best if we err on the side of caution.”
I tighten my grip on his shoulders, reading his tone.
There’s something there, something twisted and messy.
“What is it, Zack? What aren’t you telling me?”
He opens his mouth and I move forward, crushing our bodies together, staring up at him firmly.
“And remember what we agreed. Honesty, always.”
A small voice taunts me when I say this, telling me that I’m not exactly being honest when I haven’t told him I love him yet. But surely that’s not being dishonest, but rather simply holding something back until the time is right?
And heck, going first in that game is a risky business.
“I got word from my contact while you were getting ready,” he says. “He’s looked into Jerry and it’s not good.”
“What?” I demand, even as pieces of me scream to go on living in ignorance.