Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“You became a gold medalist because you’re a homicidal maniac at heart?” I asked with a laugh.
“Pretty much… although now the shooting is pretty boring. Once you learn how to do it fast, it’s less exciting. The exciting part becomes mastering your heart rate and concentration to be able to switch from the hard physical effort of skiing to the intense mental effort of calming down and focusing.”
He continued to tell me more about his experience and how that program changed his life for the better. “It was a change-maker,” he said. “Kind of like the way you talk about your time at Yale. Something you can look back on and say, ‘There but for that one thing, my life would be completely different and probably not as rewarding.’”
I nodded. “I could see you doing that one day, you know. You’re good with kids.” I remembered him drawing his weapon on my cousin and her friends. “Sometimes,” I added.
Thankfully, he laughed, most likely realizing what I was thinking about.
We spent the rest of the meal talking more about our experiences growing up. Rather, he told me about his while I expertly ducked any mention of mine outside of a few funny stories from the time after I’d gone to live with Gran full-time.
Thankfully, we were interrupted by a call from Landry. Bear took it as an excuse to go out to the gatehouse to check on Lou while I wandered back into my bedroom to talk in private.
“How’s the honeymoon?” Landry teased.
Unfortunately, it was a video call, and I felt my cheeks already heating. “How was your pinwheel lasagne?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ve been eating nothing but plants and water. I might as well go on the bottoming tour of Hell’s Kitchen. All this prep for nothing.”
“Not true. I’m sure you’ll get to wear some beautiful clothes. Remember the Jon Stein show two years ago?”
“We had an agreement, Zane.”
“Red inflatable codpieces,” I continued, trying not to laugh. “They never did catch on, did they?”
“Had they been crafted out of anything other than vinyl, maybe they would have,” he muttered. “Stop trying to change the subject. How is your surly bear of a bodyguard?”
I couldn’t help but grin. “He taught me how to cross-country ski.”
Landry gave me an unimpressed stare. “I can think of way better things he could have taught you, sweetness. Skiing is a waste of all that… brawn.”
“He, uh… he…”
I wanted to tell someone what we’d done. What I’d finally done. But I wasn’t sure what the protocol was for our current situation.
Landry’s eyes popped open wider. “Girl. Spill the tea. Spill all the fucking tea right this minute. Tell mama what that big growly bear did to you, boo.”
“Who said he did anything?” I squeaked.
Landry fluttered a hand in front of his long throat. “Oh my merciful heavens. That man touched you. Tell me every sordid detail, or I will find the two of you, and then I will ask him to account for his actions.”
“It’s not like that,” I said quickly. “You make it sound like he did something inappropriate or unwanted. I assure you it was very… wanted.”
“But certainly not appropriate,” he stated drily. “That man is your employee, Zane. Have you ever heard of the Me Too movement? I’m surprised at you.”
“Me?” I squawked. “First of all, he doesn’t work for me. Secondly, you act like I pressured him into something. Does Ryan Galloway seem like the kind of guy who can get pressured into anything? Give me a break.”
I huffed and added, “Besides. He wanted it. Trust me. He wanted it plenty.”
Landry burst out laughing. “And what did you do to slake his want, hmm?”
“Okay, but I need your advice. And you can’t tell anyone, especially Bash or Silas because they’ll lecture me.”
“Not true. They’re true love converts now. They’d support you in your efforts.”
I squawked again. “True love? Who said anyth—”
“Fine, skip the love part and tell me the nasty part. I’m listening.”
I let out a breath and tried to calm down. “Kenji’s right. You’re a provoking shit.”
Landry’s teasing grin fell. “Kenji can fuck right off. I provoke him because he begs for it. The man needs to get the stick out of his ass.”
Yeah, those two were definitely involved, and I desperately wanted to know the details… but not right then. “Sorry, my bad,” I soothed. “Besides, now that Kenji got accepted into that retreat, I’m sure he’ll come back refreshed and relaxed. Maybe it’ll help him realign his chakras or whatever.”
Landry’s forehead crinkled. “What retreat?”
This was so not the point. “The one hosted by that guy Kenji’s obsessed with. You know the one I’m talking about. Kenji listens to all his podcasts and reads his books for mindfulness and focus. I think he’s an acharya—a guiding light—but I can’t remember his name…”