RISE - Part One (The RISE Series Book 1) by Deborah Bladon

Author:Deborah Bladon [Bladon, Deborah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Deborah Bladon
Published: 2015-07-20T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

"Lunch was delicious." I turn to where he's standing next to me on the crowded street. It's mid-afternoon in Manhattan and that means that finding a quiet spot to thank him properly for not only the delicious salad, but the meaningful conversation, is impossible.

"I told you I could cook even if it was just a salad." He reaches forward to tenderly push a piece of my hair that had fallen onto my cheek behind my ear. "It's windy today."

"It is," I say quietly. I don't want to turn and walk into the building that houses my office without saying something about the trust that I know he placed in me when he told me about his dad.

After we'd finished our lunch in silence, he'd cleared our plates and then he excused himself to make a phone call. I'd stood and walked around the living room. As I did I studied all the pictures he had on display. I know that his father was an instrumental part of his life before he drowned.

There were images of a young Landon dressed in a football uniform with his father's arm proudly draped over his shoulder. There was a small photograph hung on the wall of Landon's brother holding a birthday cake, the candles ablaze as his family watched.

I'd scanned each picture carefully, soaking in the small details of his father's appearance. He was rugged and handsome. A slight beard covered his jaw too, his hair was longer than Landon's is now and a pendant, in the shape of a circle hung around his neck in each image. He was the epitome of what you'd expect any father would be. Strong, virile and happy.

I realized quickly that there weren't any pictures of Landon's brother or mother recently. Each picture that was on display captured a moment set in time many years ago.

"I'm sorry about all the questions." His eyes dart to the left to where a group of schoolchildren are approaching. "Your relationship with Ansel isn't my business. You're right."

I feel an instant pang of regret for spitting those words out at him. "You were curious. I understand that. I'm sorry if I offended you but there's nothing left between me and him. That marriage proposal was a last attempt on his part but he knows, just as well as I do, that we're done for good."

Another gust of unexpected wind brings his fingers back to my face. He cups both of my cheeks in his hands, pushing aside the wayward pieces of my long hair that are blowing in the breeze. "I'd like to see you again. Can I cook you dinner? Or we can go to a restaurant if you'd be more comfortable."

He has the soul of a gentleman wrapped in a body made to fuck a woman senseless. If there's anything wrong with him, it's definitely not apparent to me yet. He can't be perfect. I know that, but he might be as close to ideal as anyone I've ever met.

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