“Still counts.”
She looks at me flatly.
I know I’m being unreasonable.
Still, as long as she’s not taking the egg and she isn’t venturing anywhere iffy, there’s nothing I can do or say to stop her.
Not if I want to keep my head intact anyway.
“I’m not sure why I’m bothering to ask, but here goes.” She draws her legs up on the chair under her, and I get a flash of thigh before her sweater covers it up again. She sighs. “Do you want to visit an art museum?”
I blink.
It’s not the museum part that surprises me. But honestly, Iamsurprised. I never thought she’d want to spend one extra minute with me.
“An art museum,” I say carefully.
“Yep. It’s not that far, just a few blocks. We could go for an hour or two, look at pretty paintings and cool sculptures. I’ll annoy you with the criticism I learned in college. You’ll try not to strangle me. But we’ll kill some time while we wait for Lord Fairfax to call. The egg stays safely here.”
Her teeth flash as she grins, and for a second, I’m blinded.
I’m not sure if she’s trying to be sweet or dying of nerves from asking me to indulge her.
Holy fuck.
I never appreciated how beautiful she looks when she tries. Hell, even when she doesn’t.
For a second, I gaze out the gaping window behind her. In this penthouse, New York City gleams in the spring sun below, harmless and yellow.
That lush background frames her like she’s a painting herself. Why do I need to visit a museum when there’s living art in front of me?
Her hair riots around her face in this light, and those eyes glow like gas flames, mischief and excitement and a dozen other things I can’t afford to fixate on.
I blame the caffeine. I damn near chugged that coffee and it’s making me crazy.
“Also,” she adds when I don’t say anything, “I figure your daughter wouldn’t mind a gift or three from the Big Apple, would she? I hate that all this is taking you away from her.”
There’s the shot to the heart.
“Okay, fine. Think I still have the code to your granddad’s old vault in this place. The suitcase might fit. Barely. If it does, we’ll go.” I hold up my hand. “Two hours, Nile Queen. We need to be back here by then. I’m setting a timer on my phone.”
“Don’t act so tortured!” she teases.
“If it’s a date you want, fucking fine. But you’re not leaving my side, and neither is that cursed egg. You want your field trip, that means I’m back to being your chaperone.”
She throws her head back and laughs before I’ve processed what I said.
“Man, you must be hard up. How long agowasyour last date?” She throws me a sassy look and flicks a crumpled foil burrito wrapper at me. It pings off my shoulder. “Go shower, brat. We’ve got a lot of art to take in and little time.”
9
TREASURE THE MOMENT (CLEO)
This isn’t my first time visiting The Met, but coming here with Holden feels like seeing it through fresh eyes.
“Fair warning, I know jack about art,” he says as we climb the grand stairs to enter.
“You don’t need to. I’ll burn your ear off anyway.” I smile sweetly.
