Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
I knew how it was for me. I had been worshipped and then hit hard with a closed fist. There was a difference between Gen nearly yanking my arm off and Colton tugging on my hand to make sure I was following him. With Colton, I had always known, from the beginning, how he felt about me, because he communicated that through touch. That absolutely worked for me, but I was guessing, with how Calhoun was staring at the moment, that to them, it was weird. The takeaway was, I didn’t need to give a crap about that. Colton and I knew, and the two of us were the only ones who mattered.
“All right,” Calhoun said, “you two can get out of here and maybe get a late dinner.”
“Dinner,” I whimpered.
Calhoun chuckled and held out his card to Colton. “I’m so sorry about what happened with Hall. Know that you’re safe with the agents here in my office, and please let me know if you see or hear anything from Antonov. My hope is this situation tonight will scare him into leaving, but you never know.”
“I will keep you in the loop, and we both appreciate all you’ve done.”
He nodded, smiled, and then an agent stepped into his office and we were escorted out of the building. It was so nice to be leaving, even better to have Colton take my hand. I found myself liking that more than I thought I would.
SIX
In the movies and on TV, FBI agents are fun and engaging. In real life, they were very yes and no with their answers, there was no smiling, and they waited outside my apartment instead of venturing inside. Apparently, there would be no banter about my lack of décor.
I was fairly certain that because I was dreaming of a house, saving money, and my place was filled with paint samples and design magazines, that this was the reason my apartment seemed like I just moved in.
“I have never been in a space that was less you,” Colton said.
I couldn’t argue that point.
“Our office is more you than me, and though certain parts of my place have no trace of you—”
“The patio needs a makeover,” I reminded him for the hundredth time.
“—even my place looks more like you.”
“I need to get my house soon.”
“Which will be where?” he asked as he pulled my suitcases out of my closet.
“Lincoln Park, I hope, or maybe Albany Park, or Oak Park, or—”
“A park, I get it.”
I grinned at him.
“Pack all the clothes, even the dirty ones, all your face and hair crap, and pack the suits last because I know for a fact your garment bag is still in my closet from when I borrowed it for my trip to Cancun with the guys over Christmas.”
I whirled around quickly so he didn’t see me smile.
“It wasn’t that bad!” he yelled defensively.
I would not utter a word.
“At least I know now that I am, in fact, very allergic to certain kinds of shellfish.”
I lost it. I still had the pictures on my phone. I had no idea people could literally turn green. I’d always thought it was merely a funny phrase someone came up with. I was so happy all his friends knew me, so they made certain to share fun and interesting photos of Colton when I wasn’t around. I was so thankful for photos of him hanging over a toilet bowl with the caption, “praying for death” with many laughing emojis.
“You should have never left me over the holidays,” I scolded him. “I hope you learned your lesson.”
“Left you?”
“I will say, though, that I had an amazing time up at your family’s cabin in Lake Geneva. It was like a postcard come to life. I had no idea Wisconsin was that beautiful. The only thing missing was you.”
“Do you listen to yourself when you—”
“It was fun. I never made Christmas cookies before.”
“Yes, I know. I got lots of pictures of you and my family from everyone,” he muttered. “You all had a nice time.”
“It was much better than nice,” I informed him. “I got to sleep on the couch, by the fire, with the tree lit up with lights all night long. It was the best. And the next day, on Christmas, your dad took me with him to put some food out for the deer.”
“Yeah. My dad took a really nice picture of you walking in the snow with the trees behind you. You look deep in thought. He sent it to me.”
I sighed. “Your dad is amazing. You know he let me use his snowblower.”
He groaned like he was in pain. “I saw those pictures as well.”
“He taught me how to string popcorn too.”
“God,” he grumbled, walking to my bedroom.
“And your mom showed me how to make her yummy bread pudding.”