Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
“Nothing.” I smile.
“So, Liv.” Aaron rests his elbows on the table. “Have you thought any more about my offer?”
The bar. The managing. The…responsibility. No, I want to say. I haven’t thought at all—but I’m quickly thinking that thinking stuff over is overrated.
“I’ll do it.”
Everyone stops.
Seriously? Is it that much of a shock? Wait.
Did I just agree to run a motherfucking bar? Holy crap. I did.
Their shock is justified.
“You will?” Aaron half-grins. “Really?”
“Why not?” I down my wine. Whyfuckingnotindeed. “I’m up for a challenge.”
Tyler squeezes my thigh under the table.
“Fantastic.” Aaron’s grin spreads across his face. “We’ll talk when we get back. We’ll go down there and run over everything.”
“Perfect. Why not?” I pour another glass of wine.
Wow. That was impulsive, even for me.
“Liv? Are you sure?” Dayton questions.
I close my eyes briefly before looking into hers. “I didn’t think about it before. That right there was an impulsive decision. I thrive off impulse. I have nothing to lose. Not really.”
Nope. Nothing to lose but a job. Good going, Liv.
“You’ll do well working for me.” Aaron sips his whisky. “Split-second decisions make success, not piss-assing around until you’re sure.”
“There we go, then. I’m already an asset.” I snort then turn to Dayton. “Your dress fitting is tomorrow, right?”
She nods. “At eleven. Are you coming with me?”
“Are you shitting me? Of course I’m coming with you, you idiot. I want to see this beauty!”
“She could turn up in a garbage bag and I’d still marry her,” Aaron says quietly, leaning over to kiss her.
Tyler slides his arm around my waist. “Are you ready to go? Leave the lovebirds to it.”
I nod, finishing the rest of my wine. Thank fuck there’s food to come—three glasses on an empty stomach probably isn’t the smartest idea of my lifetime.
We say goodbye to Day and Aaron, and with his arm firmly wrapped around my waist, Ty leads me toward the Seine. There’s a chill in the air, a crisp, almost bitter chill. It makes me curl in closer to him for the warmth I know his body can provide me.
He obliges, his grip tightening as I move closer. Neither of us says a word as we approach the river. Neither of us needs to say anything. It’s a comfortable silence. One that could transcend time, binding us together in a way I can’t possibly conceive of right now.
It’s a silence that says all the right things at all the right moments.
And I apparently need to pause on the wine for a while… Or maybe not. Maybe the magic of Paris is casting itself over me. Or I watched way too much Peter Pan as a kid and still have a misplaced belief in fairies.
I sigh.
“What’s up?” Ty asks, his breath fanning across my cheek. Warm, ahhh.
“Just thinking. Too much.” I frown. “Way too much.”
He laughs. “Let’s get you food. And I demand you stop thinking.”
I raise my eyebrows. “D’you see a bed, mister? Nope. Me neither. Shove your demands.”
“Shove them where?” he hums against my neck.
“Up your ass. Up my ass. I don’t particularly care right now.”
His lips curve. “Yes. You need food, babe.”
He hands two tickets to the girl behind the glass and whisks me off toward a boat. Oh, it’s a nice boat. I’m not a boat fan, but the wood piping and classy interior has me swooning. Tyler leads me onto it, holding my waist the whole time.
The top of the boat is open, ready for tourists to sit on and stare at the city as the boat travels along the Seine. For a moment, I believe that’s where we’re going until Ty stops to talk to the host and he waves his hand.
He leads us to the back of the boat. His hands part two curtains, and with a nod, Tyler guides me behind them.
A whole section of the boat to ourselves.
Hot damn. What is he planning?
My butt has barely touched the seat when he orders for us both in fluent French. I stop and stare at him in disbelief. He can speak French?
“I spent a lot of time here while my parents were setting up their hotels,” he explains, answering my unsaid question. “Speaking French seemed…natural.”
“I can barely speak English.” And that’s true. Sometimes I forget how to speak my own language.
Ty smirks. “I lived in London for most of my life. France is a stone’s throw away from England. It’s not like you growing up in Seattle, where your closest ‘foreign’ language is French Canadian.”
“Most of your life? Where else did you live?”
A waiter enters with a bottle of rose wine and two glasses. He pours a little in one glass and asks Tyler to taste it. He does, nods, and the waiter pours two glasses before disappearing. I grasp the stem of mine and lean forward.
“We lived in the US for a few years. My parents were ready to expand over there when Uncle Brandon—Aaron’s dad—went international with his business. Mum had been considering it for a while, but Dad really pushed her into the leap.”