Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 138334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 692(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 692(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
They had walked right up to the large outdoor seating area of Café Du Monde. At the time of night they arrived, few people occupied the tables, and they walked right in and sat down at a table for two. The moment he was seated, he lost all contact with Meiling. Panic crawled up his throat and he fought it back. He would not be dependent on her.
“A café au lait sounds perfect right now.” Her voice accompanied the scrape of her chair as she moved close enough that her thigh brushed his. “Although I hesitate to see what this kind of coffee can do to you.” The laughter was back in her voice, the tone inviting him to share her amusement.
“Slayer loves coffee, especially the coffee here.”
“He would. So, I think I figured out why you wanted Bouet to press his panic button.”
“Are we going to make a wager?” He liked their little bets. For the most part their bets were for silly things, never money. She liked his foot massages and usually asked for that. He liked her scalp massages or for her to stay in his bed.
“Naturally.”
The waiter interrupted them. He ordered a black coffee. She ordered a café au lait. He requested one order of their signature beignets. She changed the order to two, making him laugh.
When the waiter walked away, she propped her head on her hand, elbow on the table. “What diabolical thing do I have to do if I lose?”
“Sleep in my bed every night for a week with only a nightgown or your underwear on.”
“A week. That’s a bit much.”
“Are you turning down the terms of the bet before we even get started?” His voice purred with satisfaction.
“No, just saying it’s over-the-top.” She drummed her fingers on the table and then abruptly pulled the offending hand into her lap with her other hand.
He’d seen her do that before. He found himself fixating on the movement. Scowling, he reached for the hand she’d placed in her lap, soothing it with his strong fingers. There were so many things about her he didn’t know. Little insecurities that made no sense to him.
“If I win,” she said, “you have to say thank you and please to every single person you interact with for a week. No snarling or growling.”
“I can’t afford to lose my reputation. That could get me killed.”
“Do you think being polite means you aren’t tough?”
“Some people think that.”
“That’s such bullshit, Leopard Boy. You like snarling at people. It’s fun for you. Admit it. Own it.”
That teasing note was nearly his undoing, making him come apart inside. But he did think about what she said. “Maybe that is how I get my fun. It’s been a habit for years now. It was necessary when I was young to scare the crap out of everyone. I developed the habit and I guess I just kept it up.”
“Fine, then, I won’t make you say please or thank you to anyone but me.”
“Best guess, then. Why would I want Bouet to hit the panic button?” He really wished he could see her face and read her expression. Everything about Meiling fascinated him, especially the way her mind worked.
“You said Donovan sent a couple of his men to put in the security system at your home. You must have suspected that they left a back door, a way to slip in somehow in case of an emergency. You’re a dangerous shifter and it would stand to reason that Donovan might decide it would be prudent to have a way to get to you just in case you go rogue.”
She was incredible. He didn’t say a word. The waiter put his coffee in front of him and Meiling’s café au lait in front of her, then added the two orders of beignets to the table.
“I love these,” Meiling said. “They are so incredibly good.” There was silence for a moment. “Open your mouth.”
Gedeon wasn’t sure he could allow anyone to feed him like he was three years old, but he was getting all kinds of new experiences with Meiling and he wanted to enjoy every one of them. He opened his mouth. She was gentle, but the beignet was sticky and warm. He bit into it. It tasted like he remembered. The powdered sugar went everywhere. He felt it cascading down onto his clothing. She tried to catch it, leaning into him. Her lips touched the corner of his mouth, her tongue catching some of the sugar. She laughed, and he couldn’t help laughing with her at the absurdity of chasing after beignets.
He felt for the cup of coffee, and she took his hand and wrapped it around the mug as if she’d been doing it for a lifetime.
“It’s hot,” she cautioned. “I got powdered sugar all over you. It’s all over me too. I don’t think I have the hang of eating these things.”