Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 133531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 534(@250wpm)___ 445(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 534(@250wpm)___ 445(@300wpm)
Her green eyes met his intently but then slid away from his gaze. To give himself time to assess the situation properly, he took a bite of the potato salad. “This is outstanding,” he declared after chewing it properly and taking a second bite, just to be sure that he was right about it. “Yep, fantastic.”
He studied her averted face. “It’s perfectly all right that you enjoy seeing new places. I see them when I’m working. I’m certain traveling to various places for work satisfies my need to see new horizons. Do you think traveling is something you want to do, or something you’re compelled to do?”
Rory’s eyebrows drew together. The elegant lines had those same hints of dark cherry red when the lights fell across her face directly. He had to keep himself from leaning into her and brushing kisses over those winged brows. He even liked the way she contemplated his questions. She was thoughtful, not answering immediately.
“I don’t have family. Nothing to tie me to one place. I guess I thought it would be good to see all the places I would want to while I could, before I settled down to have a family. I suppose it’s become a habit. I’m used to being alone now. It gets difficult to be in the company of too many people for too long.”
“And yet you bartend,” he pointed out. “The chicken is delicious.”
“Thank you. I found that recipe online a few years ago and then experimented a little bit until I got it exactly the way I wanted it.” She flashed him a little smile that turned her green eyes to a dark emerald. “I do like to bartend, and the bar puts a barrier between me and everyone else. Even when it gets crowded, I feel safe. Or safer, I suppose, is what I should say.”
Taking his time, he thought that over as he ate the fried chicken. She had put that in a peculiar way. When it got crowded, she felt safe. Or safer. Why did she need to feel safe? Why was she continually moving? He was beginning to revisit the idea that she might be running from someone. But if she was, it didn’t make sense that she used the same name everywhere she went and that she grew comfortable with the people around her. She was relaxed and didn’t appear to be paranoid about her security. That didn’t go with someone on the run.
Rory still felt like a GhostWalker to him. He had no idea why. She didn’t act like one in the least. She didn’t have a GhostWalker tattoo that he could see on her. She didn’t appear to have any unique special skills, although he suspected she was extremely good at her job due to a psychic ability, but many people had psychic gifts they weren’t aware of.
Gideon was around GhostWalkers every day. He knew them. The energy that surrounded them. They controlled that energy to a point, but everyone gave off energy. It was simply a matter of being alive. At times, like now, when she was restful, Rory gave off that low energy the GhostWalkers did, so low one was barely aware of their existence. They could be in the same room and no one would notice them. An enemy would walk right past them. It happened all the time.
“The bar makes you feel safe,” he echoed casually. “Safe from what?”
Her long lashes fluttered. He had to ease his legs out in front of him to give himself a little relief. He wasn’t cold in the least, but he thought it was a good idea to snag one of the throw blankets he’d set out to hide his reaction to her. That was becoming a big problem. A huge problem, he corrected himself. And a very uncomfortable one. He’d never had that before either. It was one he had to get on top of before she noticed and got scared.
“That’s a good question. You seem to ask very good questions. I’m sure I had great answers at one point, but over the last year or two, I’ve forgotten. I just don’t feel safe, but I don’t know why. I think it’s my inability to breathe. I can’t run if I need to. When I’m walking home from work or I’m at work or really anywhere, and someone confronts me, I feel extremely vulnerable.”
He was a strong man. Exceptionally strong. And fast. Since Whitney had performed his experiments, faster than human beings had ever thought possible. He’d had enough time to start taking those newer talents for granted. He worked on controlling them and learning to use them to the best of his ability, and that meant pushing his limits every day. There was no way he could put himself in Rory’s shoes.