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Chapter Seven
Caroline
"You don't like to read?" Jared says, staring at me in shock.
"No. I mean, yes, I like to read. Who doesn't like the read? That's madness," I mumble, wiping my mouth on my napkin. Ms. Mary made us stuffed meatloaf, fresh bread, and mashed potatoes. I'm so full. But she also made apple pie. It's against the law to say no to apple pie. "I don't like to be forced to read, and teachers never pick anything interesting."
He narrows his eyes on me, which makes me laugh.
"Sorry, but it's true," I say with an unrepentant shrug. "You guys pick the worst books! Why can't we read Journey to the Center of the Earth or Peter Pan or Lord of the Rings? They're just as important literary works as Agamemnon or Hamlet. They're more interesting too. Too many kids learn to hate reading because they're never introduced to books that spark their imaginations or engender a love of literature."
"You're not wrong," he mutters, tossing his napkin down on his plate. "I hated reading Agamemnon."
"Me too!"
He chuckles, his expression softening. "Reading should be encouraged, no matter the genre. One of my favorite things about Kingston is how diverse the catalog is. It's exclusive as hell, but my parents travel the world, looking for fresh voices to add to their lineup." He tips his head to the side. "Your sister would be a good fit."
I blink at him.
"I'm not saying she has to go with Kingston," he hurries to say, "but if she ever wants to try, I can open that door for her."
I don't have to ask to know he's serious. I see the sincerity in his eyes. "Maybe don't mention that to her yet," I suggest, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth. "She should get to decide her future on her terms. I worry that she may jump to make a decision before she's ready."
He smiles at me in reassurance. "Understood. That's why I think she's a great candidate for the Braxton Prize. It's a great way for her to see what's out there and decide what her future will look like. She's lucky to have you, you know."
"I'm lucky to have her too," I say, smiling. "It's a rare thing to grow up with your best friend living in the room right next door to yours."
"You two are very different."
"Is that a bad thing?" I arch a brow, mostly sassing him.
"No." He smiles at me again like he knows I'm messing with him. "I probably should have guessed you were related, but it never crossed my mind. You're both innocent." When I snort, his smile grows. "You are, sweet baby. You still see the best in people and believe they're worth fighting for. I love that about you."
I feel my cheeks heat and my heart flutter.
"But you're more…fierce than Kennedy, more outspoken." His eyes heat as he stares at me, darkening as if he finds that trait sexy. "You're a little lioness when something matters to you. You were ready to read me the riot act this morning to protect your sister."
"It gets me into trouble sometimes," I admit. "I tend to get caught up in the moment and not think things through."
"You're passionate, princess. And you know what matters to you." That divot in his cheek appears, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he stares at me. "I think that confidence is sexy as hell, baby."
"My parents would not agree. They despair of me ever learning to be still or calm." I peek up at him through my lashes, feeling vulnerable. "You make me feel peaceful."
His eyes shine with pride. "Then I guess it's a good thing I'm your daddy, isn't it, sweet baby? I'll never be anything less than proud of you." He rises to his feet and holds his hand out for me. "Come on. I want to show you something."
I let him lift me to my feet, and then sway closer to him, taking a moment to cuddle up against his chest. I swear, there is no better feeling than being in his arms. He seems to love it too. All evening, he's been finding reasons to touch me or to cuddle me. I love it.
