Page 62 of Going Deep
“It makes perfect sense,” he said with a smile and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Want to watch a movie?”
“Not really,” she said, too weary and weepy to think about tempering her answers. “Can you just talk to me?”
“Sure,” he said, and though there was surprise in his eyes, there was pleasure as well. “What would you like me to talk about?”
“I don’t know.” She wanted him to talk about himself, his family, his life, but she couldn’t think how to ask. Then she spied the book on his nightstand. “Maybe you could read to me?”
“I can do that,” he agreed and reached back for the book. “I’ve never read this author before, but my sister recommended this to me, and I’m enjoying it. Have you heard of her?”
She didn’t bother to hide the smile. “Nora Roberts? Yeah, I’ve heard of her.”
He eyed her curiously. “Have you read this one?”
“A couple of times,” she admitted. “It’s good.”
“I’m not usually a romance reader, but my sister said ‘diamond heist’, and I was sold.” He thumbed open the book, then glanced down at her. “You okay if I pick up where I left off?”
“Sure,” she said, and laid her head on his chest.
He flipped through the pages briefly, then held the book in one hand, holding her securely with the other, and began to read.
She closed her eyes, feeling the last of the rough edges inside her smooth away as she listened to the sound of his voice.
“You said we could do whatever I wanted. Remember?”
Michael frowned as traffic once again came to a crawling halt. “I remember. I was hoping you didn’t.”
Beside him in the passenger seat, Ginger laughed. “Come on. It’s a beautiful day. You don’t want to be inside on a day like this.”
She had a point. Still, he’d been hoping for a different activity—one that would require both of them to be naked. The Foundation’s new worldwide childhood health initiative—and the partnership with the World Health Organization—had kept him out of town for most of the week, and this was the first time he’d seen her since last weekend. The last thing he wanted to do was go to the batting cages.
But she looked awfully cute. She wore a Toledo Mudhens cap that looked as though she’d had it since she was a kid. Her strong shoulders, freckled now due to all the time she’d been spending outside, were mostly bared by the thin tank top in bright blue. Little navy blue shorts showed off long, strong legs, and battered sneakers covered her feet.
On the floor between her feet rested a Louisville Slugger that was at least as old as the hat. “They have bats, you know.”
“I know.” She sent him a sunny smile. “But I like this one.”
He shook his head and inched the car through a gap in traffic. “It looks like a herd of rabbits attacked it.”
“Do rabbits come in herds?”
“I have no idea,” he said honestly. “But if they do, that bat got attacked by one.”
She shrugged, unoffended. “She may not be pretty, but she’s game.”
“She?”
Ginger snickered. “When we were little, my sister Georgia insisted on naming all the inanimate objects in the house. This is Mabel.”
“Mabel, huh?” He grinned. “What did she name the dining room table?”
“Princess Buttercup.”
He shot her an incredulous look. “You’re kidding.”
“The Princess Bride was very big in our house.”
“Was the dishwasher named The Dread Pirate Roberts?”
