Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I don’t say it would only be an issue for a couple of days. It would only make him upset. But the fact that there’s a limit on our time together is foremost in my mind. I am an idiot for not jumping him last night. Anxiety and body issues and everything else be damned.
Meanwhile, he just sits there staring at me.
Which doesn’t ramp up my nerves at all. “What I’m trying to say is you’re worth any hassle or disruption. Of course you are. Please don’t think otherwise.”
For a moment, we just stare at each other.
His smile is slow and beautiful and lights up my whole damn world. The emotion in his careful expression can’t be concealed. He needed to hear this just as much as I needed to say it. “All right, Lilah. I won’t think that. Thank you.”
I smile back at him, and the moment is perfect. It’s like something out of a book. One with a guaranteed happy-ever-after. Something I don’t have in this situation, sadly. But protecting my heart from him isn’t going to work. I don’t know why I thought it would. Fuck it. There’s a chance I’ll be dead soon. We all die sometime. Why not make my time count? If he decides against us getting together, it will hurt. But everything hurts now and then—it’s how you know you’re alive.
He raises an eyebrow in query. “What does that look mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Come home with me after this,” he says, his gaze back on his laptop screen.
“Aren’t you sick of me yet?”
“No,” he says. “And if you’re with me, I don’t have to worry about you suddenly deciding to go storm-chasing or snake-charming or I don’t know what.”
“There are so many rude jokes I could make right now about snake-charming, but I won’t. I would, however, like to point out it was only one skateboarding class and a very small tattoo. Hardly living-on-the-edge type stuff,” I say. “Are you sure you don’t need alone time to think about whether you want to date me or not?”
“It seems to me, Leannan, that the best way to see if we should spend more time exploring our feelings is by going on an actual date. Dinner, drinks, the usual. Then tomorrow we’ll take the convertible for a drive. I know a place that does mud baths an hour outside the city. It wasn’t on your list, but I thought it seemed like your sort of thing. You can slather yourself in the stuff, and I’ll watch and generally be supportive because the idea of covering myself in wet dirt doesn’t appeal. What do you say?”
My heart bangs against my breastbone. Like there isn’t enough room for everything he inspires inside of me. The last thing Josh planned for me was to pick up his laundry. But here Alistair is, going above and beyond on the regular. And the things he does... They’re a lot.
“That sounds great,” I say, definitely not getting all emotional. “But I thought you only borrowed the convertible?”
His gaze returns to the laptop, and there it stays. “You liked it, so I decided to keep it. Had a feeling we might want to use it again.”
“You kept the car? But you were so pissed at me that day. And most of the one after.”
“It’s not a big deal,” he says briskly. “That reminds me, we should talk about what you’re going to get to replace the Prius. I was thinking something like a G Wagon. Big, boxy, extremely safe. Did you know you can even get those armored?”
“There’s no way I’m spending that much on a vehicle. I’ll also have you know I am usually an excellent driver.” Not that it’s likely I’ll even need another vehicle. But again with the not saying the part that upsets him out loud.
“Of course you are,” he says, smooth as can be. “We can talk about it later. What’s your answer on the date—yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He smiles at his spreadsheets. “Make sure you buy everything you’ll need for an overnight stay.”
16
“Isn’t that your mother’s Rolls-Royce?”
We’re driving down Alistair’s street after my shopping spree. The Aston Martin wasn’t big enough to handle all the packages. How wild that (a) I shopped that hard and (b) the trunk on his vehicle is so small. I took too long to decide what I wanted to take with me versus what I wanted delivered to my apartment, so Alistair arranged for all of it to be sent to his house. Guess he’d had enough of shopping.
“Yes,” he says with a frown for the luxe car. “That’s her.”
“You weren’t expecting a visit?”
“No, I was not.”
I sense something has gone down between him and his mom, but I have no idea what or when. Family can be complicated. But there’s the distinct feeling Alistair would rather have it out with her in the street than let her into his sanctuary. The problem is you never know when paparazzi might be lurking. As soon as the gate slides open, the Rolls heads inside followed by a shiny new Cadillac Escalade. A man and a woman dressed in sharp black suits step out of the Escalade once it parks. I may not have much experience around the rich and famous; however, these people all but scream security detail. This fact is confirmed when a petite white woman with silver hair wearing a brown tweed skirt suit steps out behind them. A woman I have seen a time or two on the gossip sites.