Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
She blinks and then frowns. “Excuse me?”
“You. Me. Paris. We leave in two days.”
She stands and paces the living room, still scowling. “Ryan, I can’t just up and go to Paris.”
“Why not?” I stand, as well, and shove my hands into my pockets. “You own the business, and you have people who can handle the shop. You don’t have kids or pets, so why can’t you go?”
“Because.” She flings her hands in the air. “Because I can’t afford to, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I can’t afford to go to Paris. Trust me, I wish I could, and maybe if I can save up over the next year, I can go next fall, but—”
“You can afford to.” My voice is level again. I want to pull her to me, but I know she needs to walk off the energy. “Because you’re not paying for it. I am.”
“No.” She shakes her head and paces around the living room. “Absolutely not.”
“Give me one good reason why not.”
“Because I will not take advantage of you like that.”
“I said one good reason,” I counter. “Polly, you’re not taking advantage of shit. I’m having to talk you into it. It’s all set up. Everything. All you have to do is pack, and don’t do much of that because you’ll be shopping for some new things with London.”
That stops her in her tracks, and she stares at me with wide, emerald eyes.
“London is in on this?”
“Yeah, and she’s actually really excited about it. She’s like a kid at Christmas. She kissed me and everything.”
“I feel like an idiot.” She drops her face into her hands and sighs as she lowers herself onto the couch.
“What? Why?”
“I feel like a complete charity case.”
“Whoa.”
“I feel like—”
“Unless you follow that up with loved and cared for, you’re going to want to stop right there. Stop it, Polly.” I squat before her and pull her hands away from her face, kiss them, and hold on to them tightly. “I’m taking you because I want to. I want to.”
“But—”
“No buts. And yes, London knows because I needed her help with a few things, and she’s thrilled to shop with you and show you everything there is to see at this thing. She knows more about it than me and has more contacts. Of course, I’d ask her for help so I can make it special for you.”
“I can’t afford—”
“Hey.” I pull her to me now. She’s so damn short, so I sit and plant her on my lap and hook her hair behind her ear. “I don’t want you to think about the money for another second. Don’t, babe. This is my gift to you.”
“I guess my birthday is coming up.” She nibbles on her lip.
“If that’s what you want to call this, fine. But it’s not for your birthday. It’s just because. I’d love to show you Paris and see it through your eyes. Hell, I’ve never been to fashion week, and maybe I should see what all the fuss is about. London talked Drew into coming, so there will be more testosterone there. Apparently, double dates are in our future, and that’s cool with me because we like them.”
She smiles, just a little, but her eyes are still uncertain. “You’re sure this isn’t too much?”
“It’s absolutely not too much.” If I tell her that I’ll never even feel the loss in my account, it’ll just freak her out, so I keep that to myself. “Let me do this for you. For us. Hell, this will be the first vacation I’ve taken in…ever.”
“Ever? Jesus, Ryan, that’s crazy. Just don’t go overboard,” she says, like she did when she agreed to let me make over her kitchen. “I know you didn’t stick to your word about that with my kitchen.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know about the top-of-the-line appliances,” she informs me, narrowing her eyes, but there is humor there.
“You need quality appliances,” I counter and plant a kiss on her chin. “You know you want to go.”
“More than just about anything,” she admits, not bothering to deny it.
She straddles me now, and her smile turns…naughty.
“I think I’ll show you how much I appreciate you.” She bites my lower lip.
“Fuck yes. Show me, babe.”
But before we can get naked, the doorbell rings, signaling that our food is here, and Polly shimmies off of my lap and hurries to the door. She pays the delivery kid with cash and then motions for me to follow her through the kitchen and out to the patio in the backyard.
She lowers the screens, and we sit side by side on the swing, to-go boxes of burgers and fries on our laps.
“Is that why you’ve been working so much?” she asks as she chews on a fry. “Because you’re going to be out of the office for so long?”