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Cameron Chelsea M. - Behind Your Back Behind Your Back

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Фантастика и фэнтези

Детективы и триллеры

Проза

Любовные романы

Приключения

Детские

Поэзия и драматургия

Старинная литература

Научно-образовательная

Компьютеры и интернет

Справочная литература

Документальная литература

Религия и духовность

Юмор

Дом и семья

Деловая литература

Жанр не определен

Техника

Прочее

Драматургия

Фольклор

Военное дело

Последние комментарии
оксана2018-11-27
Вообще, я больше люблю новинки литератур
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Professor2018-11-27
Очень понравилась книга. Рекомендую!
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Vera.Li2016-02-21
Миленько и простенько, без всяких интриг
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ст.ст.2018-05-15
 И что это было?
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Наталья222018-11-27
Сюжет захватывающий. Все-таки читать кни
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Behind Your Back - Cameron Chelsea M. - Страница 22


22
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“Wanna go for a walk?” I smile, remember what happened last time I asked her that.

“Sure,” I say as we both get out of the car. She slips her shoes off and sets them next to the car and I do the same. She’s still wearing her shorts, so I lean down and roll up my jeans as best I can before taking her hand and strolling toward the wooden ramp that leads down to the sand.

“I’ve never been to the beach at night,” she says, inhaling deeply. The air is spiced with the tang of the ocean. It’s one of my favorite smells in the world. My mother loved to bring us to the beach. She’d chase us around with the sunblock and I’d help Lizzy make castles before heading toward the rocks and searching for crabs.

“Hey,” Saige says, tugging my hand and bringing me back to the present.

“Hey,” I say, giving her a smile.

“You’re lost in your head again.”

“Guilty,” I say. She might not be able to read my mind, but she can get pretty damn close.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. I know you’ve got a lot going on up there.” She taps the top of my head and her fingers linger, brushing over my scalp. I stand still and let her touch me because it feels damn good.

“Probably not as much as you think,” I say and she drops her hand.

“Now you’re being modest? Interesting.” I’m not sure why that’s interesting, so I start walking and she follows me.

The sand is chilly without the sun to warm it and I hope she’s not freezing.

“Want to see how cold the water is?” I ask and we walk to the water. It laps over my toes and she sucks in a breath.

“Yeah, that’s brisk. I don’t know if I could go in,” she says, cringing. “I don’t know how people do those polar dips. That’s a recipe for hypothermia if I’ve ever heard one.” I stay in the water, wading in until it’s up to my ankles. My feet numb quickly and I wonder what she’d do if I just kept walking and went all the way in.

“You’re crazy,” she says behind me and I turn and see her over my shoulder, arms wrapped around herself. She’s cold.

“No. Just cold-blooded,” I say with a grin.

She rolls her eyes.

“Come on, let’s walk so I can get warm.”

I get out of the water and this time I follow her over the sand, purposefully avoiding her footprints. She has exceptionally small feet.

“Do you need my jacket?” I ask.

She shakes her head.

“No, I’m fine now that I’m out of the water.”

We take our steps in silence. The lap of the waves calms me and I realize I’ve been stupid. I shouldn’t have showed up. I hope she doesn’t think I’m desperate, or the kind of guy who will just show up whenever he wants. Even though I did it already. I don’t want her to think I’m obsessed with her. That kind of infatuation is dangerous and would probably drive her away.

Basically, I need to calm the fuck down.

She bumps my shoulder with hers.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing much. You?”

She sighs.

“You don’t like personal questions, do you?” No, I don’t. Because I don’t want to slip and accidentally tell her the truth. Again.

“Does anyone?” She hops over a clump of seaweed.

“Some people don’t care. And then some people can’t tell you enough about themselves and you do whatever you can to get away.”

“I know what you mean. I guess… I just don’t like people knowing things about me that I think are personal.” I didn’t mean it to come out like that, but she doesn’t seem offended.

“It doesn’t bother me. At least not right now. But someday I’m going to want to crack you open and look at your insides, Quinn Brand.” She grins at me and I can’t ignore the trickle of unease that drips down my spine.

“That sounds painful,” I say.

“Getting to know someone can be sometimes.” We walk all the way to one end of the beach and I can tell she’s freezing, despite what she told me earlier.

“Ready to go back?” I say as we turn and head back to the car. Her arms are folded around herself, her hands tucked into the sleeves of her coat.

“Sure,” she says. “I guess I should have put on some pants.”

“Sorry, should have warned you.”

“It’s okay.”

We go back to the car and I open the door for her before rushing around and getting in the driver’s seat, turning the car on so I can get the warm air moving for her. She shivers as I put the top up.

The vents blast hot air like breath and she puts her fingers up to them.

“Why did you have to see me?” she asks, and her voice is so quiet I almost don’t hear it. I really don’t know how to answer this question. Not in a logical way.

“I don’t know,” I say. “I just… did.” She nods and seems to accept that answer.

“I’m glad you did. I was worried things were going to be… weird after our first date. I’m not normally like that, you know.” Actually, I didn’t. I know so many other things about her, but I didn’t know that.

“Don’t worry about it. I was worried you wouldn’t want to see me again. Wham, bam, thank you, sir.”

She snorts and sits back in her seat.

“So, tell me something, Quinn Brand.”

“Sure.”

“Who are you?” My blood freezes in my veins and I have a moment of panic before I smother it. She can’t possibly know what she’s asking. I struggle to put a smile on my face before I answer her. It’s a good thing it’s dark and she’s not touching me so she can’t see how fast my heart is racing.

“I’m a guy who thinks you’re painfully beautiful.” She is. I saw it in those first pictures and I see it even more now. Awfully, horribly, painfully beautiful.

She smacks my arm and rolls her eyes again.

“One of these days you’re going to give me something other than a standard line. One of these days, Quinn.” Maybe. But I doubt it.

“You fucked her on the first date? Well done, man,” Row says, holding his closed fist out for me to bump. I give him a glare and then pound it anyway.

“How was she? Not that I would know anything about it,” Track says, shuddering. “Pussy just doesn’t do it for me.”

“We know,” Hardy, Row and Baz say at once with many eye rolls.

“I’ll only put premium beef in this body. It’s a temple, you know,” he says, which earns him a few cuffs on the head and a bottle thrown in his direction that he catches with ease.

“Stop talking about dick and get back to the girl,” Baz says.

“Do you all want a play-by-play?”

“More like a thrust-by-thrust,” Cash says, shoving a tortilla chip in his mouth and crunching down loudly.

“Oh, should I have recorded it on my phone so you all could have a visual?” I say. I’m not sure why I’m suddenly angry about sharing my escapades with Saige. Normally, we all share and then start telling stories about our favorite conquests, but it doesn’t feel right this time. I don’t want to share. I want to hold onto that warm moment with Saige. I’m regretting even telling Cash about it. Too late to take it back, though.

“We’re just busting your balls, man. Calm the fuck down,” Cash says. I don’t like them talking about her like this, but I’m not going to sit down and analyze that particular feeling.

“Whatever. To move on, things are going well. I’ll update you when I have more details. Anyone else?”

Track pipes up and starts talking. He gives me a look and I send him a nod of thanks. Then it’s time for a Hardy update. Money, money, money. It makes the world go ‘round.

My mind wanders as everyone debates our next move after Mr. B. It’s not time to vote yet, but we’ll have to deal with that problem soon.

“That reminds me. I need some money,” Baz says.

“What for?” I ask.

“No reason. I just need it.” He’s being cagey and it’s annoying.

“How much?” Hardy asks.

“Half a mill.”

“What the hell for, Baz? You can’t ask for that kind of green without telling us all what it’s for. We don’t spend a cent without discussing it. That’s how this works. That’s how this has always worked.”