Page 25 of Protected By the Billionaire Ex-SEAL

I shoot him a look, then smile when the memory becomes clearer. “I published my first children’s book.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. The Red Rabbit and the White Tree.”

“Holy shit.” This time, his eyes grow so wide. “You’re Rain Jelly?”

My mouth forms an O. “You know the book?”

“By heart. My best friend’s kid, Jazzy—now my sister’s stepdaughter—loves that book and always asks me to read it to her to bed.” To my astonishment, he recites the first few pages smoothly. “Wait. You also wrote Whispers of the Purple Frog, didn’t you? And The Humpback Cat?”

“Yeah. Animals are a big hit with kids.”

“You’re telling me. Jazzy loses her shit laughing whenever we get to the middle of The Humpback Cat.”

I know I’m not supposed to, but I can’t help picturing Christian being a doting uncle, one who will dutifully finish a book until his niece is fast asleep. It’s a heartwarming image.

“I’m glad she likes it.”

“Not likes. Loves.” He studies me. “Was it always your dream to be a children’s book writer?”

“Writer, yes. Artist, no. But I was short on time and funds, and I got my drawing talent from my uncle. I wasn’t as good as him, but it worked, so I stuck to being the artist for my books, too.”

“Wow. I can’t believe you’re that talented…I mean, I’m not saying it’s unbelievable or impossible. I think it’s amazing.”

I can feel my cheeks heating up at his sincere compliment. “I can’t believe you memorized it.”

He shrugs. “No big deal. If you read something all the time, you’re bound to memorize it.”

The affection in his voice tells me otherwise. I want to ask more, but Honey Lee told me he’s big on protecting the privacy of his sister and best friend’s family. So, I leave the topic of Jazzy alone.

“Your turn. Truth or dare?”

I brace myself since he already chose truth three times and?—

“Truth.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Christian bites back a grin. “There’s not much to do around here dare-wise.”

“Care to bet on that?”

“Fine.” He leans forward, a twinkle in his eye. “Dare.”

“I dare you to do something you’ve never done before.”

He considers it. Then he finishes his glass of whiskey in one gulp, his expression changing at what I imagine is a strong burn sliding down his throat. The glass was almost half-full, too.

“What was that?”

Again, he shrugs. “Haven’t done it before. That’s as daring as I can get.”

I want to argue that he did more daring things when I first met him, but again, it’s a topic that almost feels taboo. I want to ask why he left, but I’m also hesitant to find out the answer.

Besides, he already made things clear between us. I lift my chin.

“I choose dare.”

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