Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 34938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
It lasted less than a minute, but still, that just screams suspicious, and I can't see it as anything other than that.
He flicks his head up and glances at me, his lips part like he's about to say something, only he doesn't, he sucks in a big breath of air instead, and goes back to arranging the groceries in the trunk.
My phone rings, so I pull it from my back pocket, and see a number I don't recognize. “Hello?” I ask as I look up at Kent, making sure he notices that I didn't walk away, I'm still right here.
Because this is how you answer a phone when you have nothing to hide.
“Hi, I'm looking for Perri Dean,” a woman says.
“This is her.”
It's the veterinary clinic where I dropped the cat off a couple weeks ago. The vet tech explains the cat is doing well, that he had come in a little dehydrated, under nourished, and his back legs are paralyzed. They think he most likely fell from a tree, and now has permanent nerve damage.
“Oh no,” I say, and it catches Kent's attention. He quirks a brow, wondering what's going on. Waving a hand, I keep my attention on my conversation. “Okay, all right, I'll have to think about it.” Hanging up the phone, I tuck it back in my pocket.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, closing the trunk and walking to my side. He reaches out a hand and touches me quickly, but swiftly pulls away.
I make note of the distance. His touch isn't sensual, or tender, it's more friendly than lover.
“Yeah, everything's fine. I found this cat the first day I was supposed to meet you at the house, and I brought it to the vet, which is why I was late.” Scratching my fingers through my hair, I fiddle with my bottom lip. “That was the vet’s office. They wanted me to know he’s good, and that if I want him, he's mine to pick up. Otherwise they're going to send him to an animal rescue so he can be adopted.
“That’s good news. So let's go get him.”
“What? No, I can't do that.”
“Why not?”
“As much as I'd love to, my dad would never go for it. He doesn't allow pets in his rentals. You know that.”
“So? Who's going to tell him?”
“I'm trying to do this right, Kent, and that means following his rules, especially the ones he has set for his properties. I really don't want to mess this up.”
Kent smiles, taking a small step toward me and running his thumb across my bottom lip. “Rules are meant to be broken, Perri. I think we've proven that already.” He nods, and pulls his keys from his pocket, tossing them up in the air and catching them. “Let's go. Point me in the right direction.”
I stand quietly, trying to decide what side of this dangerous line I want to land on. I can do what I want. It’s my choice if I want to break the rules and ignore the fences my father's placed around me. I can choose to risk everything I've been working for. Everything that I’d been hoping for.
Or I can be his good soldier. Follow the orders and hope eventually he’ll reward me with a little respect and some responsibility.
“You coming?” he asks as he pulls open my door for me.
“Yeah,” I say, dropping into the seat.
Kent climbs in next to me and starts the car. He sits quietly as we drive out of the parking lot. I'm looking out the window, trying to understand what Kent's doing, what I'm feeling, and where the hell this is going.
“So are you going to give me the address? Your kitten is waiting for you.” he says.
I'm torn, and I feel like I’m being shred to pieces inside. The feelings this man drives into my body are incredible, it's like nothing I've ever felt before. But the fear of ruining this opportunity with my father is fighting back. I know right from wrong, I know the expectations placed at my feet. How can I just abandon my plans? Abandon my strategy for finally getting a foothold in my dad’s company and earning his trust.
But I also know what I want, and it's sitting right beside me. It’s light and easy. It makes me feel good. Sitting beside Kent, I don’t feel like I have anything to prove.
The weight of his hand falls on mine, and he braids our fingers together. Flicking my eyes in his direction, he squeezes my hand again, and smiles as he keeps staring out the windshield. I give him the address to the vet’s office.
“So,” he says, “what do you think about Poseidon?”
“Poseidon?”
“Yeah, for the cat. It’s the perfect name for a cat you found by the sea.”
What is going on here? This is so confusing!