Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
He sits back against the booth, grinning at me. "You're an idealist."
"No. I just think the world reflects what we pour into it," I say primly. "His life was tragic and devastating. No one should ever be treated the way he was. He could have been this beautiful, brilliant man who shone through the darkness they tried to pour into him. Instead, he chose to visit the same kind of pain and tyranny on everyone in his life, including his own son. That doesn't make him a hero. It just makes him another tragedy, Mason."
"I happen to agree with you."
"And yet, you'd marry him."
"Why not?" He shrugs. "We can't claim the world reflects what we pour into it if we only pour into those we find worthy and ignore the rest. Look at Agamemnon."
"Agamemnon?" I stare at him blankly, my fork hovering in midair.
"A Mycenaean king," he says. "Like Heathcliff's story, his is all about destruction and revenge. Had there been an ounce of forgiveness in either, perhaps they would have turned out differently. Instead, they're tragedies because the people who needed love and understanding the most didn't find it. They turned to hate and revenge because it's all they knew. You can't change the world by repeating the same cycles."
"I remember that play. Didn't he kidnap a Trojan princess?"
"Yeah, Cassandra."
"She had visions, right?"
"She was cursed by Apollo to have prophecies that weren't believed because she refused to have his child."
I cock my head to the side, studying him. "Classic literature, huh?"
"I'm working on my thesis now."
"What?" I blink. "Seriously?"
He grimaces at me. "It's on Aeschylus."
"Bless you."
He throws his head back, his laughter booming across the restaurant. "I didn't sneeze, baby. I said Aeschylus."
"I know who he is," I smirk at him. "But his name always reminds me of a sneeze."
Mason takes a long sip of wine, watching me over the rim of his glass. "You're an unusual woman, Olive Medlock."
"And you…well, you aren't a serial killer, so yay for me?" I say, my expression cheeky.
He just chuckles in response.
I push potatoes around on my plate for a long moment before looking up at him. "I like this, Mason," I whisper, my voice soft. "Thank you for not hating me."
"Hey." He reaches across the table, running his thumb across my bottom lip. "I could never hate you, Rebel."
I smile in response, my heart ready to burst.
"Can I ask what happened to your mom?" I ask, peeking up at him as we stroll down the pier after dinner, our fingers laced together. A few people are scattered around on benches or jogging, but most are at the carnival near the parking area. It feels a little like we're the only two in the world out here.
"She had an aneurysm," he says. "By the time they got her to the hospital, she was gone."
"Oh, Mason." I wrap an arm around his waist in a one-armed hug. "I'm so sorry."
"Me too, Rebel." He leans down, brushing his lips across my crown. "She was an incredible woman."
"She had to be. She raised you."
He tips my head back, kissing me softly. His lips taste like wine and something else—something that's uniquely him. I groan, burrowing into him as he nips my bottom lip and ruins me for any other kiss.
"You're awfully good at that," I whisper when he finally lets me up.
"Glad you think so," he rasps. "I intend to do it a lot."
"Do you?"
"I do."
"We'll see."
I love the way he smiles at me like I'm the most important thing in the world. When he does it, I feel like the most important thing in the world. I can't remember the last time anyone made me feel that way. Actually, that isn't true. No one has ever made me feel that way.
"Come on," he murmurs, wrapping an arm around my waist to get me moving again.
We walk along in silence for a long moment before I feel compelled to speak again. "You said Paulina was your mom's bird?"
"Yeah. Mom loved her, and she loved Mom. I didn't have the heart to rehome her after Mom passed, so I brought her home with me. She mourned for months before she finally decided to give me a chance." He chuckles ruefully. "She still gets pissed any time anything in her world changes, though."
"Hence why you're an asshole."
"Hey now," he says.
"She said it, not me."
He narrows his eyes at me, making me laugh out loud. He doesn't give me a hard time, though. At least, not vocally. Instead, he just pulls me along until we reach the little carnival at the end of the pier.
"No way!" I cry, stopping in my tracks when I see where he's heading.
"You scared?"
"Uh, yes. Absolutely, yes."
"Too bad." His eyes glint with humor as he practically hauls me the last few feet and then buys two tickets. I protest, but he just chuckles, practically carrying me onto the Ferris Wheel.