Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
I can practically feel her skepticism rising, but she doesn’t respond.
“We’re nearly there. Ready?” I say instead, nodding at the ferry terminal coming into view. A few lazy harbor seals lounge on one of the nearby buoys.
“No. I’d rather watch the seals and ride back and forth.”
“You’ll do fine. You’re with me, baby girl.”
“God, you—” Her voice chokes off as she leans against me, her skin so hot.
“What?”
“You have to stop doing that. And fine? That’s easy for you to say,” she grumbles, but when the ferry docks and we step onto the long walkway gate to deboard, there’s a smile on her face.
A natural one.
“Just pretend it’s a normal day out of the city. I come here all the time, and I still love it,” I say. “Wave at the friendly people when you catch them staring.”
It’s not a long walk through the small terminal and up the hilly sidewalks into town, walking hand in hand.
The sun is out, and I spot a few obvious gawkers along the shaded streets, already trying to film us.
By tonight, their content will be everywhere.
Like always when there’s a performance to put on, I slip back into my show suit, smiling and pressing hands with a few folks who do a double take as we pass.
Beside me, Lena relaxes slowly.
On the ferry, it was easy to forget what we were here for, but the attention we pull as we head down the main stretch of town acts as a constant reminder.
I wave to a group passing by.
“Now I know how it feels being royalty. So ridiculous.” She sighs.
“Never spent too much time with royals, and nobody here would recognize them.” I peer through the window of a bookstore as we pass. “Do you want to stop and browse? It’s a nice, quiet break in here.”
“What, to buy something?” She stops beside me, hand tucked in my arm.
“I told you it’s just a day trip. So, yeah, if you feel like picking up a new book or some touristy gimmick, why the hell not? Let’s look natural.”
She huffs, but a little more of her tension fades as she glances up at me, her big brown eyes softening.
“I don’t do touristy. Sorry. There’s a reason I avoid the Seattle waterfront like a plague.”
“Ice cream, then?” I nod at a small place a few more stores down, which sells the good stuff. “I know you’ve got high standards from your mom’s place and all. Never gets old to feed your sweet tooth. Also, it’s good for the local economy.”
“Well . . .” She blinks, her lips pursing as she mulls it over. “The chocolate cherry flavor sounds interesting.”
“Perfect.” I steer us toward the store, sidestepping two people who snap quick pictures of us.
Lena’s shoulders tighten, but to my surprise, she offers them a goofy smile and a wave.
“There she is. You’ll be a natural in no time,” I say.
“And you’ll drag me into an early grave,” she grumbles.
“With that smile? Like hell. If you’re not careful, you might start having a good time, woman.” I lean in to kiss her cheek as we stand in the shade of the awning, taking our place in the long midday line. “No one’s going to look at us and think this is new.”
“You think?” She examines our clasped hands like she’s just realized we’re still linking them. “Everything feels new. I can’t stop feeling jittery.”
It’s not like her to be intimidated.
“I saw you face down your ex,” I say. “Even though you were scared for your life. That proves you’re made of stronger stuff than you think.”
“The cameras are scarier,” she lies.
“The cameras just want what they can’t see—a fairy tale. That’s not so bad. They’re in the mood for a happy story or two. We just have to serve them like this ice cream shop dishing up scoops.”
She fires a glare at me, but it has no bite. “I can’t believe you’re such a romantic. How does that happen when you’re so . . . so you?”
“The same way you misjudged me.”
She laughs and allows me to lead her into the store. Although this is a show for the general public, I want her to relax—for her sake and for our watchful eyes.
I ignore the phones pointed in our direction as we decide on our order, taking our sweet time to taste test a few more types with the little wooden spoons they offer.
Soon, we step back into the summer sunshine with our cones, heading up the street.
“I don’t know how you stand it. Even the ice cream can’t take the edge off,” she whispers, deliberately not looking at my face.
“You get used to it.”
Her nose wrinkles. “I hope I never do. Is this what it’s like every time you go anywhere in Seattle?”
I check my watch. Just a little while longer.