Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
"I…" I can't think when he's this close. I can't even breathe. "Tonight. I'll go out with you tonight."
Triumph flares in his expression before he dips his head, slanting his mouth down over mine. I make a sound that's the rough equivalent of a dying cat and a moan as his tongue slips past my lips. Just that quickly, any hope I had of resisting him vanishes. As the sun beats down on us, he sends my defenses toppling to the cracked pavement at our feet.
"Fuck," he rumbles, spinning me around to face him. My back lands against the car as he pulls me into his arms. He kisses me breathless. Actually, he kisses us both breathless. And then comes back for more.
I'd like to say I'm innocent in this kissing thing, but it'd be a lie. By the time he lets me up for air, my hands are tangled in his hair, and I'm basically wrapped around him like Saran wrap. Plus, I keep going back for more kisses.
Lord help me. I think he's more addictive than Netflix and cake batter chapstick. No one can resist either of those.
"Stop kissing me," I mumble, kissing him again.
"You first." He smirks against my lips and then drags me into another scorching kiss while kneading my ass.
"Xavier, quit it. I'm trying to do stuff."
"Then let's go."
I pull back, trying to wiggle out of his arms. "Uh, excuse me? You aren't invited."
He lifts one brow, his expression like granite. "If you think you're leaving this parking lot without me, think again. You ran off yesterday. You're not leaving my sight until you pay what you owe."
My mouth pops open, shock running through me. "You're insane."
"Says the girl who caused an accident to save a turtle who wasn't even in danger in the first fucking place."
I accidentally on purpose knee him in the jean-clad thigh. "Oops. Slipped," I say, beaming when he releases me, and I land on my feet.
His glare turns to a smile and then a chuckle. "Get your ass in the car, Charlie."
"How'd you find out my name?"
"The sheriff."
I grab his strong forearm, panic coursing through me. "He knows I'm here? Did he tell anyone? Did you tell anyone? Who else knows?"
"Whoa, whoa, slow down." Xavier pulls me into his arms again. "Take a breath before you pass out. You're white as a sheet."
I dutifully suck in a deep breath.
"I haven't told anyone. Don't know who the fuck I'd tell anyway. And I doubt he told anyone, either. I had to pry your first name out of him," Xavier says. "All the bastard would tell me is that you aren't wanted by the police, and you aren't in danger."
I exhale in a rush, my knees wobbling. Maybe I should bake Dillon a freaking cake once this is over.
"Any chance you're going to fill in the rest of the blanks for me?" Xavier asks. "Who are you? What are you running from? Why don't you want anyone to know you're here?"
Tell a millionaire that I'm a disaster who just got kicked out of college and may be on the verge of being disowned by my parents? No, thank you. I've given him more than enough reason to think I'm feral at this point. No need to add anything else to the list.
"Charlotte Lemming," I lie. "Let's just say I'm doing spy things. The less you know, the better."
"All right then, little spy," he says, shaking his head with a bemused smile. "Where the fuck are we going?"
"To see a former CIA agent."
He looks at me like he thinks I'm joking, but I'm not. I'm going to see a former CIA agent, and if he insists on following me, then I guess he is too.
Chapter Five
Xavier
Half an hour later, I see why Charlie feared for the turtle's life. She drives like she's on a timed mission in Grand Theft Auto. Judging by the devilish little smile she tries so hard to hide, she's intentionally trying to terrorize me into pleading for mercy and leaving her to her own devices.
As if that'll happen. I haven't had a single moment of rest since I met her. Either the damn water in this town really is magic, or she is. I'm guessing it's the latter. I've met free spirits before. I've never met anyone like Charlie.
My kitten doesn't march to the beat of her own drum. She creates her own music. I've never been so tempted to dance along. She's the exact opposite of the models and fashion executives I deal with all day, every day. She's not put together or carefully made up. She doesn't watch every word she says or worry about what the rest of the world thinks.
She just lives, her entire heart and soul poured into every action she takes. When the fuck have I ever been that alive? Every moment with her is an adventure. Hell, she's an adventure.