Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Of course,” I say, letting her lead the way to the railing, where a gentle winter wind nips at our skin without being too brutal. “We can stay as long as you like.”
“Thanks,” she says, pulling her phone from her coat pocket and lining up a shot. “I love how clearly you can see all the different styles of architecture from up here. An art deco masterpiece next to a glass tower from the 80’s next to something brand new…but it’s all still cohesive somehow.”
“You’re an architecture fan,” I say, noting the passion in her voice and the way her eyes flash as she lines up each shot. I glance over her shoulder at the screen, impressed. “And one hell of a photographer.”
She laughs self-consciously. “Oh, no. I’m just an amateur. My friend Sully is the photographer in our group. She’s insanely talented. I like taking pictures, but I mostly use them as references for sketching and watercolor.”
“A photographer and an artist,” I say, refusing to let her talk me out of being impressed by her. “I’d love to see your sketches sometime.”
Her cheeks flush as she bobs a shoulder. “Maybe I’ll make you one before I leave. As a thank you for letting me stay at your place. I always do a little watercolor for my Gram when she sells a house. She gives them to her clients along with the keys at closing as a personal touch.”
“Add stellar granddaughter to the list, but I’m not surprised,” I say, loving that we both make family a priority. We come from such different worlds, but we have more in common than I would have imagined that first night at the club.
Tucking her phone back into her pocket, she turns to me with a playful arch of her brow. “Yeah? So, I’ve got you fooled, huh?”
I smile, enjoying her sassy side as much as her sweet one. “Yeah, you’ve got me, all right. I think you’re pretty great, Miss Swallows.” I pull a face. “I mean, aside from how loudly you snore, obviously.”
Her jaw drops, but she laughs as she says, “I do not snore!”
“Oh, but you do. Loud enough to rattle the pictures above the bed,” I lie. “Why do you think I was up so early this morning?”
Her eyes narrow. “Nope. I don’t believe you. I may not have slept over at a man’s house before, but I still have sleepover parties with my girlfriends all the time. They would have told me if I snore, so I could do something to stop it. They believe in tough love.”
“Good. Tough love is the best kind of love.”
“Agreed,” she says, her expression growing serious. “Truth feels way more like love to me than pretty lies. Truth means you really care.” Before I can recover from that direct blow to the conscience, she adds, “But I do have flaws, for sure. I don’t snore, but sometimes…I’m super bad.”
I frown, falling in beside her as we wander to the other side of the observation deck. “Oh yeah? Example of this badness, please?”
“Well, I…” She glances around, ensuring there’s no one too close before she adds in a whisper, “I hired a male prostitute. In a secret sex club. That’s pretty bad.”
I snort, making it clear I’m unimpressed. “Please, I’m a consenting adult. You’re a consenting adult. We’re both having a good time together. Nothing bad to see here, let alone ‘super bad.’ You’re going to have to come up with something better than that, Swallows.”
She wrinkles her nose, lifting her chin in that stubborn way I’m coming to love as she adds, “Fine. I break into buildings. Lots of them. I learned to pick locks one summer as a kid, after watching too much Harriet the Spy, and now I break into people’s vacation homes while they’re out of town. I do it all the time, in fact.”
My brows lift. I’m surprised, but also…intrigued.
Is it wrong that I find her deviant side as adorable as her sweet one? I don’t know, but I’m not sure I can help myself if it is.
“Okay,” I say, nodding as I consider this latest revelation. “We might have something here. So, what do you do after you’ve broken in? Drink their booze? Use their pool and leave wet towels in the pool house? Throw wild parties for your friends?”
She gives a self-conscious roll of her eyes. “No, I just…walk around, looking at the architecture and getting design inspiration, but still…” She points a finger at my chest. “That’s bad. And illegal. I could get in big trouble if I were caught, which I almost was one time when I didn’t realize the new owners had installed cameras when they bought the property.”
I grin. “Wow. You wicked thing, you. Just walking around, looking at things, without touching anything or causing any chaos or destruction. How do you sleep at night?”