Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
"I thought you might like to get out of the house for a while." I pull into an empty spot and turn the truck off, suddenly uncertain. "If you'd rather not, we can do something else. Whatever you want."
"I've never been to the movies," she whispers.
How is it possible for one woman to break my heart so easily? A simple sentence, whispered in sorrow, cracks it wide open, leaving me bleeding for her and all the things she never had an opportunity to experience. If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to give her back a little of what was stolen from her, first by her mother and then by Tarasova.
"Then let me give you this experience," I say, holding out a hand to her. "We'll fill up on popcorn, soda, and candy, and watch whatever movie you want to see." My lip curls up at the corner. "I'll even sit at the very front of the theater if you want."
She glances over at me and then down at my hand. Her tongue peeks from between her lips, swiping along the bottom. Her expression is torn, reluctance to bend warring with the desire to have this experience.
Eventually, desire and curiosity win out. She nods and places her hand into mine. I bring it to my lips and press a kiss to her soft skin. Her honey eyes go wide. Before she has a chance to think too hard about anything, I release her hand and climb out, circling around to help her down.
She's quiet, sticking close to my side without touching me as we walk toward the entrance.
"What do you want to see, angel?" I ask, holding the door to the theater open for her. I point out the theater's marquee sign with the movies and start times listed, letting her choose.
She examines the board carefully, her brows furrowed as she contemplates her decision.
"Can we watch Mufasa?" Her voice is soft as she turns toward me. "I liked The Lion King when I was little."
"Yeah, we can watch Mufasa."
I guide her toward the ticket window and pay for our tickets before getting in line at the concession stand. Faith's eyes are wide as she looks all around us, trying to take it in. The theater isn't anything fancy, but it's full of movie posters, arcade games, and marquee lighting. She eats it up like she's starving for the experience, her eyes growing wider and wider as they bounce all around.
"What do you want to eat?" I ask her, stepping up to the counter when it's our turn to order.
"Whatever you want is fine," she whispers.
I reach out and hook a finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at me. "Tell me what you want, little bunny," I whisper. "You can have anything."
She glances at me and then at the candy display. "M&M's and Sprite."
I smile, releasing her chin. "She'll have M&M's and a large Sprite. I'll have Buncha Cruncha, RedVine, a large Sprite, and a large popcorn. Do you want butter on the popcorn?" I ask Faith.
She nods.
"With extra butter."
The college kid at the counter rings us up, sneaking furtive glances at Faith as he does. I hand over my debit card, clearing my throat when he doesn't take his eyes off her long enough to notice me practically waving it in his face. Even dressed in a hoodie and leggings, she's too goddamn beautiful for words.
Faith notices him staring at her and shuffles until she's all but hiding behind me.
"Eyes to yourself," I snarl at the kid. "It's rude to stare, and you're making her uncomfortable."
His eyes go wide. His hand actually shakes when he takes the card from me and swipes it. "Sorry, sir."
"Detective."
"Detective," he repeats, gulping audibly. His face pales.
Faith laughs softly from behind me. The sweet sound blows through me like a hurricane, wiping every thought from my head but the desire to hear her make that sound again and again. I spin to face her.
"Do that again," I demand.
She blinks up at me, her mouth partially open in adorable confusion. "Do what?"
"Laugh," I growl, taking a step toward her. "Do it again."
"I…" The tip of her tongue peeks out again, her gaze leery.
Mierda. I'm making her nervous. I shake my head, forcing myself to take a step back to give her a little space. "You have a beautiful laugh, conejita," I whisper. "I've never heard it before."
"I don't have much to laugh at," she says, shrugging sadly.
"I'm going to change that."
She stares up at me for a long, silent moment. Distrust and doubt linger in the depths of her honey eyes, searing me to my soul. Dios. I have a lot of fixing to do with her. Starting with an apology for threatening to take her door off the hinges.
I open my mouth, but the kid at the counter speaks up before I can.