Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Daniel
Gina stands her ground, and I can’t help but stare at her ass as she does and her back.
Jesus, the woman’s back is perfection. It’s exposed, and even though the wind is now whipping through Manhattan, my wife refuses to take my suit jacket.
She walked away from me when I slid it off and offered it. I suspect that was because I kept glancing at her nipples. I couldn’t help myself since they were furled into tight points under her silk blouse.
I’m normally not this fixated with breasts, but I can’t stop staring at Gina’s.
“I don’t need the coat, Daniel,” she insists for the third time since we exited the building that Arietta and Dominick call home. “I’m going to order a rideshare.”
“Like hell you are.” I round her. “We’re taking the subway.”
“I can afford an Uber,” she argues. “It’s too windy to walk to the subway. Look at my hair.”
“I am,” I say as I stare at her. “It’s beautiful, Gina.”
Her shoulders drop. “I know what I must look like.”
“Like a dream?” I smile. “I like you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Wind-whipped.” I circle a finger in front of her face. “And with a little chocolate frosting on the corner of your lips.”
Her tongue darts out to retrieve it, and I’m transfixed. I watch her tongue drag over her bottom lip before it lands on the spot with the frosting, scooping the tiny amount into her mouth.
“You’re staring at me,” she accuses. “Is there frosting on my chin, too?”
“Yes,” I lie so I can touch her.
I do just that and run a finger over her chin, stopping to brush her bottom lip.
Her gaze drops to my hand. “Did you get it all?”
I’d lie again and tell her no so I can touch her one more time, but she’s not that messy of an eater. “I got it.”
“Thank you,” she says begrudgingly.
“No problem.”
A shiver runs through her as another blast of wind hits us. “I can feel fall in the air. The seasons are changing.”
I give it one last try and hold my jacket up. “Wear it, Gina, and take the subway with me. Save your money for a slice of chocolate cake tomorrow.”
A smile blooms on her lips. “What makes you think I’ll want chocolate cake tomorrow?”
I take a chance and drape my jacket over her shoulders. “Don’t play that game with me. You’d eat chocolate cake for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if you could.”
She tugs on the lapels of the jacket, pulling it tighter around her. “Maybe for breakfast twice a week, but only for the sugar rush I’d get. Mornings are rough for me.”
“Sure.” I laugh as I motion to my left. “Shall we.”
“Will you hold my hand when we board the train?” she asks softly. “Just when we board.”
“You know I will.”
“All right,” she acquiesces. “The subway it is.”
My wife turns heads wherever she goes, and tonight was no exception. As we boarded the train hand in hand, I noticed two young women whispering with pointed fingers at us.
By the time one had her phone in the air primed to take a picture of us, Gina had tugged her hand from mine and slid my jacket from her shoulders.
That didn’t deter either of the women. They happily took several pictures before approaching us and asking if I’d mind taking an image of them with Gina. I looked to Gina for guidance, and even though I could see weariness in her expression, she smoothed a hand over her hair before she smiled and agreed to it.
I took the pictures with the strangers’ phones that were shoved into my hand before guiding Gina to an open spot on a bench.
As the train starts its journey, Gina looks at me. “I felt something when I put my hand in your pocket.”
I pat my jacket that is now draped over my lap. “Did it bite you?”
She barks out a laugh. “What? No.”
Knowing that I drew that laughter from her fuels me in a way I’m not expecting. Gina Calvetti’s laugh is like no one else’s I’ve ever heard. It can turn someone’s day around in a split second. I know that for a fact because I’ve experienced it firsthand.
Her laughter fades. “That’s not the same suit you wore that night in Vegas, Daniel.”
I know where this is headed, but I drag the conversation out since we’re on a speeding train, and there’s no chance of her storming away from me. “Palla was right, Gina. Your eye for fashion is second to none. How did you know this is a Berdine suit?”
She grabs hold of the bait and falls into my trap. “I can tell a Berdine a block away. It’s all in the fine details.”
I glance down at the jacket. “Your brother was the one who told me to invest in my first Berdine.”