Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30316 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30316 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
She sighed when I dug my thumbs into her arches. “Who was the most wackadoo person you ever had to do personal security for?” she asked lazily.
I laughed at her turn of phrase and thought about it for a second, then answered, “My firm was hired to help a scientist defect. The man was brilliant, but he gave a whole new meaning to the term ‘mad scientist.’ He was borderline schizophrenic. But the most challenging part of the assignment was keeping his hands off my ass.”
Keaton burst out laughing so hard that tears leaked from her eyes. She caught her breath and asked me another question. “What was your favorite TV show growing up?”
“Knight Rider.”
“What is your favorite flavor of gum?”
“Spearmint.”
“What’s your favorite sport?”
“Soccer.”
“Who is your favorite sports team?”
“The New York Red Bulls.”
“What’s your favorite board game?”
“Axis & Allies.”
This went on for the full hour until the movie started. We’d gone on several dates over the last month since our confrontation with her father, getting to know each other. On our first date, Keaton had confided that it bothered her that I knew so much about her and she knew almost nothing about me.
“What do you want to know?” I asked her, holding my arms out to the side. “I’m an open book.”
Keaton scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’re a freaking vault, Garret. Secrets are your life.”
I reached across the table and took her hand, giving it a small squeeze. I waited until her dark eyes met mine, then smiled. “I’ll answer every question you ask me with compete honesty. Unless it’s classified.”
She perked up but eyed me skeptically. “Seriously?”
I winked at her and cocked my head to the side. “Seriously.”
Her face scrunched adorably for a moment as she contemplated something. Then she grinned. “When was your first kiss?”
I shook my head. “I don’t remember anyone before you.”
Her eyes narrowed and her lips tipped down. “I thought you were going to be one hundred percent honest.”
I sighed and gave her a crooked smile. “That’s what I get for trying to be romantic.” She giggled and looked at me expectantly.
“Savanah Foster. Second grade. Her brother punched me about two seconds later.”
Keaton threw her head back and peals of laughter burst from her lips. Damn, I would never tire of hearing the beautiful sound of her joy.
Sometimes I’d ask her to answer her own questions as well, if it was something I didn’t already know about her.
“What about you?”
She thought for a moment, her free hand tapping on the table. “Danny Connor. Fifth grade. He backed up so fast he fell on his butt. My ego took a serious hit. Then he proceeded to rat me out to the teacher, who told my dad”—she shook her head, her eyes brimming with indignation—“the little punk.”
“Need me to track him down and kick his ass?” I asked, only half joking.
Keaton laughed, then launched into another barrage of questions.
With every date, we grew closer and she became more openly affectionate. I loved the way she was constantly touching me and melted when she was in my arms.
When we weren’t ripping each other’s clothes off and sating our rampant lust, things between us became easy and comfortable. Like this moment, as we lounged on the lawn and simply enjoyed each other’s company.
The opening credits started, and Keaton fell quiet. I set her feet on the blanket and helped her sit up before maneuvering her to where she was sitting between my legs, her back resting against my chest. It was the perfect position, and I could have stayed like that, simply holding her in my arms, forever.
When the screen went dark, everyone in the park clapped heartily. Keaton’s smile was huge as we gathered our things and walked to where Jack had texted that he was waiting.
On the drive home, I held her hand in my own and stroked my fingers over the creases while she rested her head on my shoulder. At first, she was so quiet that I thought she’d fallen asleep. But then I noticed her other hand drawing nervous circles on her thigh. She sighed but continued to be silent. I decided to wait until she was ready to talk about whatever it was she was thinking so hard about. Until her third sigh.
“What’s on your mind, beautiful?”
She tensed and looked up at me with uncertainty brimming in her eyes. “I was wondering…”
“You know you can ask me anything, beautiful.”
She drew her hand back and clasped both together in front of her, pressing them into her stomach.
I frowned. “Are you feeling all right?”
Her gaze followed mine, and it was as though she just noticed what she’d been doing, because she quickly released her hands and ran her palms down her legs.
“Um, what’s your favorite color?”
My brow lifted in surprise. That couldn’t have been the question she’d been so nervous about. Still, I didn’t want to pressure her, so I answered. “Light brown,” I murmured as I lifted up one of her soft, springy curls and tugged it straight before letting go and watching it bounce back.