Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
He hummed. “The rest is secondary,” he echoed, half asking.
“Yeah. Like, interests and political views, baggage or whatever. Age. If there’s chemistry, everything else stops being a big deal, and you’re willing to work things out.”
The way he watched me made me fear the next question, because I knew he was picking up on certain things. Shannon was the type of man who wanted to know why you felt something. And since he already knew I hadn’t dated in the past, it was only a matter of when before he wondered if I spoke from experience or illusion.
So I offered myself a chickenshit escape route and went with humor. “Besides, young doesn’t equal easy. Have you not met your youngest son?”
It worked. He smirked and smoked from his cigarette.
“You think our table is ready now?” I asked.
“It better be. I’m actually hungry.”
Chapter 15
An hour or so south of Barcelona, we checked in to a much smaller hotel for the next part of our trip. It was hacienda luxury heaven. Only nine rooms available, and they were bungalows, all situated on top of a rocky cliff overlooking the ocean.
Best of all, we had a private beach. A tiny cove surrounded by rock, with the finest sand and dark turquoise water.
As we had dinner in the hotel restaurant that first night, I profiled the guests, counting seven other parties and no kids. If the bungalows were all booked up, one party was missing, and those golfers over there in the corner were a group of four.
“What are you doing?” Shan asked, cutting into his fish.
“I’m trying to figure out the competition at the beach tomorrow,” I replied. “The two Americans over there rambled in the lobby about an art exhibit in Barcelona tomorrow. Team Titleist has tee time, so I don’t think we need to worry about them. The redhead and his fun-sized wife strike me as golfers too, and the biker bitches are checking out in the morning.”
I wasn’t sure about the rest.
Shan glanced around the dining room, pensive.
I’d been waiting for an opportunity to take a picture of him since we’d finished our appetizers, and now I got my chance. Under the guise of checking my phone, I snapped three quick pics and hoped we had a winner. He was just so fucking gorgeous tonight. He’d gotten some sun, he’d left the top button of his shirt unbuttoned, and, most of all, he looked happy.
Bistro lights, candles, white linen cloths, and Andrea Bocelli added to the romantic atmosphere.
“The couple nearest the exit are going to Barcelona too,” Shan said decidedly. “The wife is a vegan. She probably has an Instagram account dedicated to her love of the environment, but they came here on frequent flyer miles, and they’ve rented a car that runs on diesel. I bet they enjoy interactive art.”
I choked on a laugh and muffled it by wiping my mouth on my napkin.
He shuddered in dismay and returned to his meal. “A sure way to ruin a date.”
I grinned. “Interactive art? Would you call that the biggest no-no?”
“Close to it. Art is meant to be observed, not participated in.”
I chuckled. He wasn’t wrong either. “Pat and I landed smack-dab in the middle of something like that a few years ago. I don’t know if he told you.”
“He didn’t.” And his eyes showed he wanted to hear every word.
“We were on our way to get fried chicken and donuts, as you do,” I started by saying, “and we were crossing Dilworth Park, when all of a sudden, a bunch of people rushed forward and started dancing. And it wasn’t one of those flash mobs either—they were trying to provoke reactions from the innocent bystanders.”
“Oh no.” Shan started chuckling, because he could probably picture our faces and how we’d felt about the whole thing. At the same time, these moments overwhelmed him. His eyes became misty. “How did Patrick take it?”
“He flashed his nine and said he wasn’t afraid to use it,” I replied with a smirk. “He said it with a flat expression, dead serious. Took less than a second for the two dancers to get outta his face.”
“Christ.” Shan shook his head in amusement and blinked back the emotions. “I have to tell you, Kellan—I appreciate you not tiptoeing around him. Every memory means the world to me. It’s another puzzle piece to everything that he was.” He dropped his gaze to the food and cracked another smile to himself. “I can picture him saying that.”
My chest constricted. It felt heavy, but not necessarily in a bad way.
This was one of those moments I just wanted to say I love you.
After dinner, we decided to trail down to the little beach to check things out up close.
At the bottom of the stairs, we took off our shoes and socks and left them on the last step.