Page 94 of Forbidden You

“His situation is deteriorating pretty quickly. The doctors don’t think it’s a good idea to bring him to an event that big. It could overwhelm him, confuse him more.”

“Did they say it was definitely no?”

“No, but those seizures he’s been having?” I hum in recognition. “He’s been getting them more frequently. It’s a sign that he’s not in a good state. I don’t think he’ll be able to make it.”

My hand falls to his thigh as I give him a coy smile. “Your heart is so pure. You really are a good person, Bodi.”

“Thank you. That means a lot. And it also means a lot that you cooked for me. No one has ever cooked for me.” The sincerity in his eyes has me crashing my lips against his before starting to place small kisses on the corner of his mouth.

“You’re welcome,” I say with a husky voice, my center already longing for his touch. “Now, how about dessert?”

***

He repaid me by letting me be his dessert as he licked me out like I was the last popsicle on earth, right until I was screaming his name in blissful agony.

The man got skills, let me tell you that.

“What are you reading?” He walks back from the kitchen after he cleaned up the disaster I left there.

His eyes are fixed on the printed version of Charlotte’s manuscript.

“A book.”

“A book?” He lifts my legs before falling onto the couch, placing them on his lap.

“A manuscript,” I specify without telling him who the author is.

“You got that from one of the editors?”

“Actually, no. This is the book of a friend of mine. She wanted me to see if it’s any good,” I lie. “I already told her I’m not an editor, so I am in no position to tell her if it’s any good, but she asked me to read it anyway.”

“Why not?” he asks as he flips the TV on.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you not in the position to tell her if it’s any good?”

“Err, maybe because I don’t have a degree in English literature?”

He tears his eyes away from the TV, tangling them with mine. “Why do you think you need a degree to be able to judge if a book is good?”

It sounds like he’s asking me a trick question, so I just frown at him, not sure what he wants me to say.

“I don’t have a degree in English literature.” His confession has my brows moving up to my hairline.

“You don’t?”

He shakes his head.

“But you own a publishing company?”

“I have a degree in business. The reason I have a publishing company is just because I like books.”

“What?” I shriek. “Are you kidding me?”

“Not at all.” He laughs. “I know nothing about copy edits, line edits, or whatever fucking style shit they can jabber about. I have people I hire for that stuff. All I look at in a book is; do I like it? Does it have a good plot? Do I think I can sell it? If the answer is yes, I will publish it.”

I never thought about it like that.

---