Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Heat floods my face.
His eyes work over me.
“Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”
“You won’t.”
“I-”
The microwave beeps.
“Sit. Food’s ready.”
I blink. I’m feeling kind of mortified.
“Do you mind if I eat in my robe? I’m worried I’ll spill food on my dress.”
“Why would I?” His eyes move down to my toes and back up.
“Also… there.” He gestures to the sitting area. There’s a bag there on the floor from the boutique he took me to earlier. “The other pair of shoes.”
“But - ”
“Stop.”
I stop talking.
He takes a step toward me and stares at me. I stare back.
He’s standing really close to me. My bare feet are nearly toe-to-toe with his shoes. I swallow as I look up at his face. His eyes are aimed at my mouth and I’m close enough to him that I smell the mint on his breath, his bodywash or maybe his shampoo, too.
His lips part and his eyes heat up. My eyes hit his mouth and I find myself fascinated with the ridges of his lips. But then panic seizes me and I take a step back. We’re standing way too close.
“Killian,” I start.
“Violet…” He replies, looking smug.
He was gonna kiss me.
Shit.
God.
Shit.
Was he? And why did I feel the need to say his name there all breathily?
My face must relay my thoughts because his eyes abruptly change. Mischief is gone and there’s suddenly regret there.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m not letting you talk, Violet. I have no intention of treating you the way he does, like your voice doesn’t matter. I won’t do that again. I was in a shit mood and I didn’t mean to take it out on you today. I was happy to get your jewelry back for you and I wanted you to have the shoes.”
I swallow and take one more step backwards, my back touching the fridge.
“Thank you. Thank you for the jewelry. And the shoes. Nobody’s ever bought me four pairs of awesome shoes in one day.”
“Well, you’re welcome. You deserve shoes every day if it makes you happy.”
“And thank you for getting my chopsticks.” I smirk.
That’s kind of odd.
He tilts his head confused. And then his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smirk of his own.
“I liked the chopsticks,” he informs.
I bite my lip. “Stuff tastes better with those chopsticks.”
“This is probably why neither of us could eat last night.”
“Boring chopsticks,” I say, a smile tugging at my mouth.
The heaviness has dissipated and there’s something playful about him right now. My belly swoops as I stop trying to fight the smile. I shake that belly dip off. Or I try.
But he’s staring at me and his expression is serious. So serious I, with difficulty, tear my eyes away. We keep getting into eye locks. Killian Coulter is skilled at the eye-lock.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate getting this back.” I reach into the sandwich bag. “I have an emotional attachment to this jewelry. Except for this.” I reach in and remove a gold necklace with a heart pendant on it. “I have no attachment to this.” I set it on the counter.
“He give that to you?”
I nod.
He eyes it with disgust.
It used to mean something to me. He told me it was his heart, that it was all mine. Not anymore.
“I was just about to put it in your trashcan but it’s worth a few dollars, so I’ll donate it instead. Someone can get something out of it.”
“I’ll get rid of it for you if you like.” He holds his hand out. “I’ll donate money in your name to a charity.”
“You don’t have-”
“I want to.”
“Okay.” I lift the chain and drop it into his outstretched palm.
He pockets the chain. “Let’s eat,” he says as he grabs a kitchen towel and opens the microwave, using the towel to pull out the large, steaming bowl.
***
“Thank you for the shoes,” I say, halfway through the meal, which is going down easier tonight. “They’re the prettiest shoes I’ve ever seen.”
He smiles.
“I might wanna be buried in them,” I tell him. I’ve taken them out of their box and I’m staring at them sitting there on the floor, looking gorgeous and dying to be worn.
“Strut to the pearly gates in style?” he asks.
“For sure,” I say.
We’ve both been mostly silent and eating, while the news has been on and Killian’s eyes have been back and forth between his food and the television.
“You’re welcome.”
“The jewelry means a lot. A lot, a lot.” I hold the baggie to my heart.
“My pleasure, Violet.” His eyes graze me with a gentleness that makes me feel warm.
There’s a long moment of silence where we just look at one another.
“So, what sort of state is my apartment in?” I inquire, breaking the spell.
He flexes his jaw muscles and there’s an angry glint in his eyes now. He guzzles back some water before answering. “It’s a disaster.”