Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 161394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
“No. But you don’t do good ole regular fun. You do fancy restaurants and galas and wine tasting events.”
“Yes, and I suspect I’ll be bored out of my mind, but I don’t want you going alone.”
Was he honestly serious? He couldn’t be. “But you’re uber busy.”
“The company won’t crumble if I come away from work for a few hours.”
My back straightened. “Okay, now you’re starting to freak me out. You’re not sick, are you? Because I don’t make a good nurse.” He didn’t look ill, but the symptoms weren’t always visible.
He shot me a droll look. “Get your things together.”
“This is for real? You’ll go to the zoo with me?”
“I already said I would. Ten minutes,” he reminded me.
Walking toward the zoo entrance, I smoothed a wrinkle out of my long-sleeved tee. “I like that the light breeze is cool. The animals tend to hide inside the buildings or in shady spots when it’s too hot, so you don’t get to see as many then.”
Despite being a grown woman, I couldn’t help but feel excitement bubble in my stomach. I loved the zoo. Loved the sights and the smells and the sounds. Loved the relaxed atmosphere and that there were so many things to do, leaving you the option to do as little or as much as you liked. And having Dane with me, wearing jeans that hugged his fabulous ass and a tee that stretched tight around the muscles in his chest, made it even better.
He was not at all keyed up like me, of course. That he expected to find himself bored out of his mind only made his offer to come with me all the sweeter.
“Is this really necessary?” he asked, looking at the disposable cooler bag he was carrying. “Surely they sell food.”
“They do, but we’re better off taking our own lunch. The queues for the restaurants are often super long. Want me to carry the bag?”
The dark look he gave me was all offended alpha. Like I was trying to emasculate him or something.
I raised my hands, fighting a smile. “I was just asking.”
My offer to pay for the price of our admission was just as quickly rebuffed. Ignoring my protests, he paid for both our tickets.
Once we’d passed the security checkpoint and were walking toward the turnstiles, Dane threw me a sideways frown. “Why do you keep looking at me funny?”
“I’m still not convinced that you’re not sick,” I replied. “You sure you don’t have a fever or anything?”
He gifted me with another droll look.
Finally inside the zoo itself, we moved aside and consulted a map that he’d swiped from a tiered stand. “Where are those things you want to see?” he asked.
“They’re not things, they’re wild cats. Pallas’ cats, to be precise. They’re at the southern side of the zoo.” I pointed to the correct spot on the map. “We’ll make our way around to them eventually. I also really want to see the bush dogs, leopards, and red pandas.”
“I didn’t think they’d have bush dogs in zoos.”
Something about the way he’d said it made me ask, “Have you ever been to a zoo before?”
He didn’t look up from the map. “I went to one on a school field trip when I was about seven, but I don’t remember much about it.”
I swallowed hard. Compassion welled up inside me. He might have come from a wealthy family who could afford to take him and his brothers to all sorts of places, but I often got the impression that there’d been no “family time” like daytrips.
Knowing any display of sympathy wouldn’t be welcome, I asked, “What about you? What animals do you want to see?”
“None.”
“Come on, there has to be at least one animal you like.”
He shrugged. “Rhinos.”
“I can see why. They’re just you all over. Formidable and determined and moody.” I turned left. “Come on, this way.”
We walked along the sidewalks, passing enclosure after enclosure. It wasn’t always easy to get a good look inside them or to snap decent pictures, since so many people gathered near the plastic fences. But Dane had a way of getting crowds to part—people just tended to move out of his way, like they sensed a predator coming or something—and then he’d usher me to the front, which was ace.
Some animals dozed. Some paced or sat eating. Others played and ran and swam.
Dane and I, well, we had an eventful morning. We held our breath while walking through the pungent-smelling monkey house. We shivered in the cold air of the penguin house while watching them get fed. We did a fast tour of the bat cave, which stunk like a rancid ass. And, little by little, Dane began to loosen up.
Instead of just staying at my side like a bodyguard, he pointed things out, read information signs, asked questions, found the difficult-to-spot animals for me. I wouldn’t go as far as to say he was having fun, but he was engaging. He didn’t even complain when I took a few selfies of us here and there.