Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
“For a second there, I thought maybe you’d changed your mind,” Connor says, his green eyes—they’re green, even more perfect—bright in the lamplight from the hotel.
I shake my head. “No. Saying goodbye just took a little longer than I thought. Then I had to sneak around my mother. She had your brother locked down and was lying in wait for a matchmaking ambush.”
He frowns. “I don’t know what she’s thinking. You’re out of Petey’s league. Way out.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting a smile. But in the end, I lose the battle as I ask, “Yeah? You think so?”
“I know so,” he says, reaching out to take my hand. The feel of his warm fingers wrapping around mine is enough to make my heavy pulse sink lower, until it’s thudding between my thighs, and I’m very aware of the seat vibrating beneath me. “I remember you. Even when you were a kid, you were one of the smartest people I’d ever met. And kind. The fact that you didn’t kill Petey for throwing toys at you is proof of that.”
I blush, but feel obligated to confess, “Thank you, but I did hit him once. I don’t remember it, but my mother said she caught me slapping him with a sock full of sand.”
Connor laughs. “Good for you. Maybe if he’d been slapped a few more times, he wouldn’t have grown up to be such a lazy, entitled pain in my backside.” He squeezes my hand. “But I’m done talking about my brother. I’d rather hear more about you. What are you doing with that big, sexy brain of yours these days?”
As I explain my work as a research assistant and data analyst for a study looking into the efficiency of cognitive behavioral therapy in children with OCD, he pulls out onto the narrow blacktop road. It’s a nearly hour-long drive back to Bad Dog from this side of the lake. Binx and most of the wedding party are staying at the hotel tonight. I was supposed to sleep in the “kids” suite with Binx’s stepdaughter, Sprout, and two of my teenaged cousins. But as much as I adore Sprout, I’m so glad to see the massive Victorian resort shrinking in the rearview mirror.
“Fascinating,” Connor says, sounding truly fascinated. “I initially wanted to go into psychiatry. There’s still so much to learn in that field. It’s exciting.”
“Agreed,” I say. “Why did you decide on pediatrics, instead?”
“I took a semester off to volunteer with Doctors without Borders. We worked with a community in Ecuador, and I fell in love with the kids and families there. And I seemed to have a way with them, so...” He shrugs and flashes me a self-conscious smile. “Probably because I’m still a big kid myself. And because it felt so good to have that kind of connection. I was pretty lonely growing up. I never fit in with my family, but when I’m working with parents to help their little ones feel better, I do. Pediatrics felt like a perfect fit.”
I nod, my chest aching as I study his profile, silhouetted against the dark woods zipping by. He’s not just a pretty face. He’s as pretty on the inside as he is on the outside.
Be still my thudding heart…
“I agree,” I murmur, warning my heart not to get any ideas. This is just one night. One night to enjoy this amazing man before we go our separate ways. “I’m sorry you were lonely.”
“Thanks,” he says. “I bet you didn’t have to worry about loneliness, not with a family the size of yours. Seemed like almost every seat at the ceremony had a McGuire in it. Seven only had what? One row of guests? Two?”
I laugh. “One and a half. Binx was so embarrassed.”
“She shouldn’t have been. It’s great that you have such a big, happy family.”
I nod. “It is, but it can still get lonely sometimes. Especially if you’re…different. My older brother, Barrett, is nerdy like me, but he’s so much older that we don’t spend much time together. He’s too busy with work and family to discuss the latest article on dark matter with his baby sister, and the rest of my family couldn’t be less interested in things like that.”
His brow furrows. “Why? Dark matter is fascinating. It makes up eighty-five percent of the matter in the universe, but we still have no idea what it really is. What’s more fascinating than that?”
“Exactly,” I say, my blood pumping faster as I shift to face him in in my seat. “An invisible force not even the most brilliant minds in the world can understand or explain is underpinning our entire universe, holding it up like scaffolding and we are completely in the dark about what it is or where it came from. How can you hear something like that and not want to investigate it until your brain explodes?”