Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“Get what you need?” Remy asks him.
Griff bobs his head quickly, then slides his arm around my shoulders and leans in to check out my menu. “What looks good?”
I point to the French Toast À La Crème Brûlée, with vanilla cream and maple syrup. “I also kind of want to try the Lobster Eggs Benedict, but I don’t know if I like Hollandaise sauce.”
“Ask them to skip it or put it on the side,” Shelby suggests.
“Get both. If you don’t like one, I’ll eat it. I’m starving,” Griff says, rubbing his hand over my back.
“What were you doing?”
“Ah, Underhill wanted to talk to me for a minute,” he answers quickly, turning his head.
“Did Diane find you?” Venom asks. “She wants the three of us to return as mentors for season two.”
“Fuuuuck that,” Griff says.
Venom cracks up. “That was my answer.”
Woolly shrugs. “I might do it. Help those poor little lost pups. Warn them about the perils of reality television.”
“Are they paying in money or ‘exposure’?” Rooster asks.
“She didn’t get that far,” Venom says.
“Betcha they ain’t paying squat,” Shelby says. “Wouldn’t surprise me one bit.”
“You’d be a good mentor, Woolly,” Griff says. “But I don’t think they deserve you.”
Woolly shrugs. “I’ll see what she says.”
Across the table, I briefly meet Trinity’s eyes. She flashes a quick smile.
She said Underhill left this morning. So if Griff wasn’t talking to him, what was he doing?
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Griff
If someone told me a year ago that I’d be in Vegas after winning my first professional fight, with a hefty bank account, about to propose to the only woman I’d ever loved, I would’ve asked them what they’d been smoking.
“Where are we going?” Molly asks as I lead her out of our hotel into a waiting limo. “Oh wow. This is nice.” She slides her hands over the sleek, black leather seats.
I talked her into wearing the other dress she bought, a deep shade of purple with thin shoulder straps, a plunging neckline and flared skirt that reaches her knees. Very much her style.
As the limo moves, she slips a thin purple cardigan over her shoulders.
“Are you chilly?” I ask, pulling her closer.
“A little.”
“I’ll keep you warm.” I thread my fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her head and dropping my mouth to hers.
She curls her hand against the back of my neck, eagerly returning the kiss. She sighs a happy, contented sound into my mouth as I deepen our kiss. I rest one hand on her knee over her dress. Dying to touch her soft legs but knowing once I do, I won’t be able to stop. And I’d rather not give our driver a show.
She pulls away and stares up at me with love and trust shining in her blue eyes. “Where are we going?” she asks again.
“We’ll be there soon.” I’m so giddy, so close to cracking like an egg and spilling everything, but I want to surprise her.
I pull her closer and bury my face against her neck, tasting her skin and breathing in the cherry-vanilla scent of her hair.
“You know how much I love you?” I murmur against her neck.
She strokes her fingers against my cheek. “Not as much as I love you.” Her lips brush my forehead over the now-healed scar. “I love being here with you. Discovering somewhere new together. I want to do so many things with you. Go everywhere. Do everything with you.”
How is she stealing the words from my proposal? It doesn’t matter. All it means is our hearts are on the same path. This is the perfect time.
The limo slows to a stop. A few seconds later, the back door opens. The desert air simmers against my skin as we step out. I take Molly’s hand.
“Mr. Royal, welcome.” We’re greeted by the friendly, fatherly owner of the company. When I’d spoken to him earlier today, he promised to have everything ready and perfect for us.
“Hi, Mr. Roberts. This is my girlfriend, Molly.”
“Welcome. Are you ready for the best view in Vegas?”
Molly’s eyes widen as she takes in the hot-air balloon basket. She clutches my hand tighter. “What is this?”
“Sunset hot-air balloon ride.” I lean down and whisper in her ear. “I’m feeling on top of the world right now and I want you to feel that too.”
Her expression softens. “I already feel that way with you.”
“Let’s check out the view from up top, then.”
The balloon’s vibrant colors stand out against the late afternoon sky. I squeeze her hand.
Mr. Roberts shows us around the balloon and explains the safety procedures. A lot of it amounts to don’t be a dumbass.
The one flaw in my plan is the stranger operating the balloon watching me propose. I’d rather do it without an audience. I could do it back at the hotel.
No. I’m doing it now. Stick to the plan.