Page 15 of King of Lies
“That sounds like a nice day,” he says in a soft voice that makes me feel warm all over.
“It was. And then it was even nicer because I didn’t clean as much as I should have and instead spent the whole afternoon reading a book.”
His deep, masculine chuckle fills the line and makes butterflies dance in my belly. Then in that same soft voice he says, “Fuck, but I miss you.”
“You do?” I whisper.
“Aye, I do, Hen.”
“Why?” I ask and I know that I shouldn’t because it’s a stupid question and I do not want the answer to it. Only I really, really do. I’m dying to know what he sees in me and why he keeps coming back when I don’t give him much to go on. Mostly because I’m not sure how.
“Because you’re real.”
“I’m real?” I ask.
“Aye. You’re real.”
“I’m not sure that I know what that means.”
“Can you handle honest?” he asks.
“I think so,” I whisper.
“Then I’ll give you honesty,” he says, and I hear him take a breath. “You’re real because, even though you’re incredibly shy, you don’t hide yourself from me. Or anyone for that matter. You’re an open book and it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. In anything you do. The moment you fell into my arms, Hen, you took my breath away. I felt the connection we had, and then you turned me down for a date but I could tell that you didn’t want to; you were just scared. When you finally went out with me and you relaxed and were yourself, I’ve never had a better time.
“And then that kiss. Fuck, but that kiss has had me hard for days now. I bloody hate that business took me away for a bit but it’s probably not a bad thing, because if I was near you I’d want to bury myself so deep inside you that we’d forget where I ended and you began. And I know that you’re not ready for all that. So even though I hate being away from you, I’m all right with it.” He takes another breath. “So that’s it. That’s how you’re real and why I want you so much, in all ways.”
“Wow,” I breathe.
“‘Wow’ is right, lass,” he says with a chuckle.
“When do you think you’ll be back?” I ask.
“Late tomorrow evening,” he says. “Can I see you?”
Even though my heart is beating so fast in my chest and it feels like I can’t breathe, I don’t hesitate when I answer him. “Yes.”
“Thank Christ,” I think I hear him whisper and it tears my breath from my lungs.
“How was your day?” I ask, still smiling. The thought of him makes me flustered when he talks to me.
“Complete shite,” he says.
“How so?”
“Everything with this deal is going wrong,” he says, and I’m surprised he’s shared so much. He’s been so closed off about what he does so far.
Maybe this is what dating, getting to know someone is like. Then again, how would I know? It’s not like I have a lot of experience in this arena and I can’t rely on what I’ve learned from reading romance novels. If that was the case, I’d have been swept up by a handsome prince a long time ago. Or stumbled through an old druid henge to fall in love with a Jacobean warrior.
“A friend of mine is doing something stupid and I can tell that it’s going to blow up in his face, but he won’t see to reason.”
“I’m sorry.”
“And you’re far away. I find that I don’t fancy that all that much. Or at all,” he says making me laugh again. “Put me out of my misery and tell me what you’re wearing.”
“What?”
“What do you have on?” he asks. “Tell me, is it another librarian jumper?”
