Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“I should buy this first,” I say, waggling my book, Tie One On.
Finn snatches it from my hand. “It’s on me,” he says, then we head to the counter. Zach races ahead, then slows and catches up to my side. “Have you ever made a Rube Goldberg machine?”
“No, but sometimes I feel like every day is one.” Meeting Finn has been like a Rube Goldberg machine—I played the piano one night and now the dominoes won’t stop falling. “But have you?” I ask, turning the question back to Zach.
“We did today in science camp,” he says as we reach the counter and the clerk rings up Finn’s purchases. “It’s my second science camp this summer. I begged my dad to sign me up because I really wanted to make the Rube Goldberg machine. It was pretty cool, but we’re not done.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
Those green eyes flicker with yes and now and I’m dying to know. Finn looks on with a grin as he swipes his phone across the tap pay.
“Tell me,” Zach says, practically bouncing.
“The best science experiment is still when you blow up Mentos and Diet Coke. Do you have a backyard?” I ask, feeling all kinds of subversive.
Finn laughs as he thanks the clerk and takes the books.
“I do,” Zach says.
“Then I’ll tell you how to do it over dinner.”
Zach rushes to the door, and Finn hangs back, speaking in a low voice just for me. “You know I have a backyard, and you know I won’t say no to the experiment.”
With a sly grin, I just answer, “I know,” then we weave through evening crowds on Madison Avenue, New Yorkers rushing toward cars and cabs, making our way to the nearby Neon Diner.
Zach goes first, and then Finn holds open the door for me. Briefly, he sets a hand on my back, and it feels…possessive.
And I like it.
Almost as much as I like sitting across from him and his son at the retro diner, with an Elvis tune playing overhead, and servers scurrying by in mint green uniforms.
After we order, Finn shifts his gaze to me across the table, full of curiosity. “All right, how do you know every single story in Captain Dude?”
“Dad, duh. It’s just a good series.”
I laugh. “He’s right.” But then I give him the real answer. “You mentioned it at lunch, and since you have good taste, and since Bridger wants to produce some shows for kids, I checked it out. No one has optioned the rights, and I read the stories the next few nights. Bridger’s pursuing them now,” I say, then—
Oh shit. Me and my big mouth.
“I wasn’t supposed to say that,” I say, alarmed, and feeling so, so stupid. I’m not supposed to reveal properties we’re pursuing.
“Jules,” Finn says, leaning closer. “I’m not going to say a word.”
My heart beats dangerously fast, a terribly anxious rhythm. “I shouldn’t have said that,” I say again, fiddling with my napkin.
“It’s really okay,” Finn reassures me. “We’ve got you.”
I take a deep breath, trying to let my foolishness slide.
Zach frowns. “Don’t worry, Jules. Captain Dude keeps secrets, and we’ll do the same.”
I manage a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
“I promise,” Finn says.
I relax a little more. I trust Finn. I trust his son already too. That’s strange for me—to trust people so soon.
But Finn has proven he can keep my most important secrets. I choose to let go of my worries and enjoy the unexpected meal out with the sexy single dad and his young son.
Over my veggie burger and their regular burgers, we talk about stories and experiments and sneaking off to tree houses, and I tell Zach exactly how to make a Diet Coke Mentos fountain.
“Dad! She knows, like, everything,” Zach says when we finish eating. Before I can say anything, he slides out of the booth. “Gotta go to the boys’ room.”
“Come straight back, okay?” Finn says, and Zach nods.
With Zach gone, Finn turns his gaze slowly back to me. “You do kind of know everything.”
I wave a dismissive hand. “No. I just liked to try Internet experiments when I was a teenager. My sister and I did all that stuff.” Then, I have a little fun when I press my finger to my lips. “Don’t tell my dad.”
Finn lowers his hand, then under the table, I feel it curling over my knee. “I told you. I’ll keep your secrets.”
I shiver from the touch, savoring the warmth of his fingers and the heat in his eyes. “I’m wearing your secrets,” I whisper. “I have on the black lace pair.”
He draws a sharp breath and closes his eyes for a few heady seconds. When he opens them, he just shakes his head and says, like a warning, “You’re dangerous for me.”
I didn’t mean to be such a tease. “Sorry.”
He clasps my knee tighter, a reassuring touch. “Don’t apologize. Do you like them?”