Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
I make a mental note to look this up and see if there’s a dead body anywhere near her boating trip.
“I haven’t touched the food. I was waiting for you.” I may have waited for you my whole life and didn’t realize it.
She narrates trying each dish, and even though she’s afraid of the snails, she doesn’t make any disgusted noises or faces.
“Not as bad as I thought, but I don’t know if I would order them because they’re expensive and they really just taste like herbs and butter. They’re kind of tasty. I also like this little fork and am tempted to eat all my meals with a little fork from now on.” She holds up the small three-pronged utensil. “What should I try next? The beef? I have two beef dishes here. God, doesn’t it look good? I wish you guys were here so you could smell this.”
She takes several more photos and sits down to eat. “This is actually really awkward to record with you here. I’m used to doing it alone.”
“I’m enjoying it. I usually eat alone too.” But I don’t want to do that anymore.
She gives me a wry grin. “I’m done now. I’ll edit the photos and post them later. You never told me what you do.”
Is this where she starts digging into my past? Trying to get me to blow my cover? Or maybe she’s testing my mettle to see if I’m worthy to be recruited. “I’m here on business.” I start vague and wait to see if she presses me.
“No museums or shopping or climbing to the top of the Eiffel Tower?”
“It wasn’t on my itinerary.”
She leans toward me as if to share a secret. “I do not want to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower either, but I do want to go to the Louvre and see the Mona Lisa. I know it’s a tiny painting and that you can’t spend more than a minute looking at her, but it’s so famous. I want to see what the fuss is all about.”
“Let’s go tomorrow,” I blurt out.
Her eyebrows shoot up. “I thought you were here on business.”
“All work and no play makes Finnick a dull boy.”
Chapter
Eight
GEORGIA
“I should take the pull-out,” I offer when Finn and I are done eating. I’m so full, I know I’ll pass out the second I lie down.
“I’m not going to let you sleep on a pull-out sofa.”
“Honestly, I wasn’t going to bother.” I motion toward the couch. It’s big enough for me to sleep on without having to go through the hassle of pulling the thing out. “You’re giant. You’ll sleep terribly on it.” I state the obvious. It makes more sense for me to crash in here and for him to take the ginormous bed.
“I don’t require much sleep, and when I do, I can sleep anywhere.” I glance toward the bedroom. The French double doors remain open, revealing the massive bed. I have to admit it looks like a damn dream. But I don’t want to be greedy or for him to feel as though he has to give it to me.
“It’s a really big bed.” He narrows his eyes on me.
“Are you suggesting we share it?” he asks.
“I promise I’ll stay on my side.” I laugh. He acts like I’m trying to seduce him or something. I mean I’m definitely not. Am I?
“All right,” he finally agrees. For a second there, I was sure he was going to put up a fight to sleep on the couch rather than share the giant bed. That might have given my pride a small hit. I haven’t gotten a read on Finn; I’m not sure if he likes me or not. He did offer to go with me to the museum, but that could be him just being friendly and nothing more.
I might not be his type. That thought stings more than I expected it to. Him liking me or not shouldn't evoke any sort of reaction from me. I barely know him, and I also know this can’t go anywhere beyond the next few days. I should want to keep this friendly and nothing more. It would only lead to heartbreak.
“You’re not married or anything, right?” I blurt out as the thought suddenly occurs to me. He lifts his hand to show he has no ring on.
“I wouldn’t share a bed with a woman if I belonged to another.” I can tell by his expression that he’s serious.
“Belong to another.” I smile, liking the way he phrased it. “It sounds lovely the way you say it. Kinda makes me want to belong to someone.” If I thought the look on his face was serious moments ago, I’m not sure exactly how to describe the one he’s wearing now.
“You want the right or left side?” he asks, steering our conversation in a different direction.