Page 67 of Love In Hiding

Five minutes later, he was running into London. Guess she didn’t stay put like he’d said. She didn’t even know where he lived other than the direction he came from.

“You’ve got no patience,” he said.

“Never. My mother will confirm that. That’s why I was born first. I had to shove Paris out of the way because she wasn’t moving fast enough.”

“I could see that. What do you have in mind for today?”

“You’re in comfy shoes so mind walking around?”

He looked at her attire. She was in black baggy shorts with a lilac T-shirt, a little loose on her, the front tucked in, the back out and flapping a few inches.

With her long legs, she almost looked skinnier than she was, but he knew it was the style. She didn’t come off as the type of woman to wear skin-tight anything.

Unless she wanted to drive him insane.

“I’m good with anything that doesn’t require me to stare at a computer today.”

She rolled her eyes and hooked her arm through his. “Then let’s go to Chelsea Market. I haven’t been there yet and I’ve been dying to do it. It’s close to lunch too. I’m assuming you’ve been there before.”

“I have, a few years ago.”

Not that he went there alone. The last time was with a woman too. They walked around, got some food, picked up a few specialty things and called it a day.

“I didn’t think you’d be the type to want to walk around a food market,” he said.

“I love food. Haven’t you realized that yet? We spent three days together. No skimpy salads for me.”

She had a point.

She put away as much as he had, if not more. He still wasn’t sure where she stored it.

“Have you always eaten like that?”

“Yep. I’ve got so much energy that it feels as if I’m always starving. And since you’re a man, I won’t feel as if I have to watch my words when I complain I hardly ever gain weight.”

He laughed. “I’m sure women just love hearing you complain about that.”

“I think it’s a family thing. We are all naturally thin, but none of us sits still either.”

“You haven’t talked about your siblings much. How come?”

“Because there are a lot of them and, though we keep in touch often via text, it’s hard to keep track of everyone’s life. Sounds horrible, doesn’t it? I know West and his siblings feel the same way. Though I’m positive they are a closer bunch than we are.”

He frowned. “You’re not close with your siblings?”

“Oh, we are. But my mother isn’t like Aunt Aileen. My father either. They give us a lot of freedom and are there if we need them, but they don’t make us feel guilty for not always being around. I should cut my aunt slack. She traveled the world and my Uncle Sam wasn’t there much being in the service and then he died so young. She really needed her kids more than anything.”

“I can’t imagine. My parents are more like yours. My sister, I told you she had a heart condition. We thought we were going to lose her at one point. I think they hovered over her so much, then I did the same thing.”

“Which she would have hated, I’m sure.”

“She did. But it gave me space. I know they’d like me closer, but they’ve got their lives and are still working. They visit as much as they can.”

They weaved through the people on the street while they talked, her keeping him close. He liked that.

Liked it more than he cared to admit.

Even that she’d taken charge and done it.