Page 52 of The Spare
I skated right past the fact that he admitted he missed me. That’s how I heard it.
“You wrapped this?” The butterflies in my stomach went into a frenzy. The sheer glee that he gave me a gift and wrapped it was apparent.
“I’m good with my hands.” His mouth quirked.
My stomach dipped. He said it with all the casualness of telling me his coffee order.
I didn’t respond. What was I going to say to that?
Are you good with your tongue too?
I already knew the answer, and the answer for the other body parts that had starring roles in my dreams.
Instead, I unwrapped the gift with the grace of a toddler. I could hear a low chuckle from Marcus as he watched. My hands trembled slightly as I pulled the gift out from the beautiful wooden box it sat in.
Then, after some inspection, the realization of what he bought me only made the trembles more pronounced. The soft, worn restored leather felt like butter beneath my fingertips. It was a copy of Don Quixote, but not just any copy; it was from the time of original publication, from what I could tell. I read the Spanish text and realized it had to be at least a few centuries old.
“It’s a first edition.” He looked happy with himself—the satisfaction of giving the perfect gift. My mouth fell agape; I couldn’t think of anything to say. “Apparently, some of the old Spanish can be read as Catalan. Changes the meaning of a few of his adventures.”
It was on the night of the gala that I realized I still had a physical attraction to Marcus, but it wasn’t until that day in my kitchen that I realized it was probably something more. Few people would politely listen to me drone on about old books. Even Xander would beg me to stop at some point. But Marcus listened to me like he was eagerly awaiting my next word. It was unnerving and exhilarating.
He chuckled again, this time at my astonishment. “You okay?” He gave methatsmile.
My entire chest swelled with emotion. I was, most certainly, not okay.
Grinning uncontrollably, I tried my best to control the thrill his gesture created. Reading an old book and finding the parts of the translation that may mean something different was a niche hobby. One that not many people knew about me. The only other gift that had ever come this close to perfect was one my parents gave me for my birthday last year—a collection of old court proceedings.
He opened his mouth to say something when the sound of Penelope walking in stopped him.
“Did you end up going on that date with—” She stopped dead when she saw Marcus sitting in one of the seats in front of my desk. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were in a meeting.” She registered my warning glance and promptly excused herself.
My heart dropped. Marcus tensed and turned back to me, his expression changed from the earlier softness. He wasn’t angry. He looked amused, and maybe a little annoyed. Okay, he was definitely annoyed.
“You have a date? With…”
“Nobody.” My mind kicked back on and reminded me that he may know Jay. Henry did, and they may have met at some point. “I haven’t agreed to go.”
His expression became unreadable.
“I’m not going to go.” I corrected myself and held the delicate book a little tighter.
“If you want to go, you should go.” He looked slightly more bothered. He gripped the sides of the chair and pushed himself up. “If you do, we’ll get a chance to test your theory.”
I didn’t follow. The confusion must be evident because Marcus looked satisfied.
“Your theory that I can’t possibly steal you away from all your dates.” he continued as he leaned over my desk. His warm breath glided across my cheek. “I like my chances.”
He winked.
At me.
Proving that he could have been this charming the whole time but chose smug and mysterious instead. I wished I had something clever to say, but his smile and swagger left me speechless.
“Thanks for the book,” I shouted a little louder than I should have at the office. The sound of his laugh, deep and rich, filled me with a sensual buzz.
CHAPTER26
Sloan
