Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“What are your plans today?” he asked.
The question was an innocent one, but it stirred up a slew of emotions that I had a hard time controlling. Gareth was being sweet, genuinely interested in how I would spend my day, and there was no judgment on his behalf, either.
A few days ago, I told him I had nothing on the agenda except to finish the latest season of Bridgeton on Netflix. He'd kissed me and told me to take notes if there were any scenes I wanted to recreate.
It was becoming more and more clear to me that as long as I was happy, Gareth was content. Which I still couldn't fully believe. Chalk it up to my upbringing, but I kept waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop. At my home, rewards and luxuries and praise were accompanied with conditions and prices and passive aggression.
“I think I'll call Daisy and see if she wants to grab lunch. Is that okay?” I asked, , then immediately cringed. “Sorry,” I said. “You have to be tired of me asking for things.”
Gareth set down his mug and reached for my hand across the table. “There’s no time limit that you’re expected to heal in. We can't undo years of conditioning in two months. You don't have to apologize. And you don't need to worry about me getting tired. Haven't I proven to you that I have the stamina of a mythical god by now?”
A warm flush raked over my skin, and an effortless laugh escaped my lips.
This man.
Hope built inside me, painting an optimistic future that stretched on forever.
But my reality hadn't been shaped in daydreams and fantasies. I’d spent most of my life in between nightmares, both waking ones and those that chased me from sleep, and that wouldn’t go away overnight.
“Thank you,” I finally said, shaking my head because I didn't have the words to express how grateful I was for his patience with me.
He scooted back from the table, dipping down to plant a too-quick kiss on my lips. “Call me if you need anything,” he said before grabbing his suit jacket off the back of the chair and sliding into it.
I stared up at him unabashedly, unsure how somebody that big and that terrifying-looking could be so damn beautiful.
He caught me looking, a wolfish smirk shaping his lips. Then he winked at me.
The man winked at me.
It was a good thing I was sitting because I probably would’ve swooned.
A few hours later, I sat across from Daisy at a small table in a quaint little restaurant. She'd picked me up and taken me to a place in Sweet Water, a little suburb outside of Charleston that apparently had been dubbed Reaper Village, after the Carolina Reapers—apparently most of Asher’s NHL team lived there.
I couldn't complain, especially when the food was so damn good. The owner of the restaurant, a delightfully sweet woman named Lyla, had come over to make sure that we were enjoying ourselves and the food, which she had personally cooked.
It was so refreshing to be in an establishment where the owner came over simply because she wanted to know if we enjoyed her food and her restaurant as opposed to the owner coming over to the table out of obligation to pay his respects to my father.
I felt like I was living a completely different life than the one I'd had a mere two months ago. Any time I thought about it too hard, it gave me whiplash.
As we ate and made small talk, Daisy's eyes kept flashing behind me, so I followed her line of sight, spotting a couple of Gareth’s guards two tables over, enjoying their own lunch.
“I'm not going to lie,” Daisy said when I returned my attention to her. “The secret service is a little creepy. Does that bother you?”
“Oh, this is nothing,” I answered, taking a sip of my sparkling water. “At high-profile events, my father would put six or more guards on me at a time. They were bastards too, never letting me explore anywhere on my own. They had strict orders to keep me in the place my father left me. At least Gareth’s guys are nice. They never question where I want to go, they just follow me.”
“Asher filled me in,” Daisy admitted. “I get it, but it also sounds like something I would write in one of my novels,” she teased.
I chuckled, nodding. “I can see that,” I said. “I'm actually reading one of yours now. Gareth gave it to me. I'm in love.”
“With Gareth?” she spluttered. “I mean, I know he's your husband but—”
“With your book,” I hurried to correct her, my heart racing at the mention of love and Gareth in the same sentence.
“Oh,” she said, waving me off. “Thank you.” She nodded to the guards eating their lunch. “Are they going to be here forever, then?”