Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“Me and the driver here, Kevie…” he turned to the guy and slapped hands with him, “we’re gonna show you the historic and celebrated area of my hometown,” he placed his hand against his chest. “Welcome again, friends, to the amazin’ city of Portland.” People clapped and whistled, and that made her smile. “For those of ya that aren’t local, Portland is situated on a cape extending into Casco Bay. The Old Port harbor has so many amazin’ things, like old granaries that have been transformed into bakeries, a variety of great shops to get your retail therapy fix, and get your souvenirs, trinkets and what not.
“There’s also an astonishingly good assortment of restaurants here… some of the freshest seafood you can sink your teeth into. So, I’ll stop right there for now, because showin’ is better than telling. I’ll point out some places along the way that you folks may want to spend some time at later in the day, because you deserve to enjoy this great city for as long as you’re here. I’m a history buff, so if you are too, you’re in luck. If ya have any questions, feel free to call out, ‘HEY, PAT!’ and I’ll get right to ya! Without further ado, let’s lobster roll!”
Away they went, and as the trolley moved into gear, she noticed her and Nikolai’s shoulders were touching. Nikolai was looking past her, out of the open window, his eyes fixed on a man walking a large sable brown dog. He sat there with his body pressed against hers as if he hadn’t noticed anything unusual at all about their proximity. Perhaps the seats were too small for his frame, but he had to feel it.
The ride went on, and the tour guide was funny and engaging, tossing out trivia questions, short stories and jokes woven between interesting historical facts. When they arrived at the childhood home of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, a delicate breeze flowed through the open window, and the aroma of all that was Nikolai tickled her nose. Her body heated as she inhaled the bouquet of his subtle but masculine cologne. He smelled so fresh and clean. She chanced a sideways glance at his hands. Fingernails perfectly clean today. That’s when she noticed several small tattoos on his fingers, notably a little raven tattoo on his right hand—a much smaller version of the one on his neck.
“Your tattoos. Ravens. One your neck, and,” she nodded toward his fingers, “your hand. Is that in reference to your last name?”
“Yeah. Plus, I like ’em.”
“You like those black birds?”
“Yeah.”
“They usually mean death.” She said what popped into her mind, instead of keeping it stashed away as a private thought.
“Celtic mythology says they mean bein’ smart. Intelligent.” His jaw tightened as he focused his gaze on the back of the driver’s head. “To some Indian tribes, they mean rebirth. I choose to think of it like that. Positively. My surname, in Russian or English, is a good thing if you ask me. That’s how I see it.” He cracked his knuckles.
“Well, it’s good to be optimistic. It’s also good to keep one’s expectations low, so there are no surprises.”
He didn’t bother acknowledging what she said. Maybe the true meaning of her words flew over his head like a raven. Or maybe he caught the meaning loud and clear. Like a raven…
The tension quickly subsided when the guide told a joke.
“…And that’s why they keep it in the ocean. Speakin’ of the ocean. Quick fun fact! Here we go! What sits at the bottom of the sea and twitches? Anybody know?”
People shrugged and some shouted out that they didn’t know.
“A nervous wreck!”
The passengers burst out in a roar of laughter. He moved his arms about as though he was playing the electric guitar. Just as she settled into the groove, Nikolai slid his arm behind her and whispered in her ear, “You look really nice. You smell nice, too.”
Well, he didn’t waste any time, now did he?
She looked into his eyes for a brief moment. “Thank you. You look nice, too.”
“What’s the name of that perfume?”
She slowly rolled her neck, meeting his gaze once again. “Why? Are you planning on wearing it, too?” She bit her lip, then chuckled. His serious expression turned soft as he smiled back at her.
“No… no plans of wearing it, but maybe, one day, I’d buy you another bottle. That way, when we’re sitting on the couch together, growin’ old, we both can remember our very first date years from now. Seal it with a scent.” He slowly turned away and looked at the tour guide.
She could no longer hear what the guide was saying because she was underwater, floating in his words. Her stomach in knots, her mind racing. He was right about one thing he’d stated the day prior. She would use everything he said against him—this included.