Chapter 57
HE WASN'T A MINUTE LATE.
In fact, he showed up for our date an hour before the stated time. I walked out of the shower and into my room with a towel around my waist to find him lounging on my bed in his signature color black.
A silk shirt hugs his chest and shoulders, tucked into the waistband of jeans cladding long legs that go on forever.
The sleeves are rolled up to his forearms, the only accessory on him is an expensive wristwatch.
His hair is neat in a slicked-back style, yet some strands of hair remain stubborn, persistent on falling onto his forehead.
He looks devastating – powerful and untouchable – half reclined against the pillows, the copy of The Exorcist in his hands.
"You actually read this?" he asks, waving the copy.
"Why do you sound disturbed?"
"Because the book has a disturbing start."
I find that hard to believe coming from the mouth of someone who hospitalized a man, broke Blake's arm in four places, and thwarted a break-in all within a week.
He tosses the book onto the bed, eyes doing a slow, appreciating march from my feet to my face. "Looks like I came at the right time," he muses in a low voice. His darkened gaze drops low again, raking over my torso down to the towel hanging on for dear life around my hips.
"We're going to be late."
Sky cracks a grin. "I reserved the shooting range."
"You – what?" My jaw drops and I'm staring bug-eyed at him. I know he's rich – like super, old money rich – but I hadn't expected him to rent out the entire range for our first date.
"Good thing I did," he continues, hardly missing a beat as he crosses the short distance between us. "It'll be difficult keeping my hands to myself today." As he says this, his hand reaches for my waist, thumb finger dragging a sensual line downward until it rests on the material bunched at my hip.
My breathing changes pitch and images flash through my head. His hands all over me. His mouth leaving no inch of skin untouched. The idea of being entangled with him like that in a public place where people could happen by at any moment makes my blood pump hot with excitement.
He's about to kiss me when I return to my good senses and slap a hand over his mouth. His brows furrow, eyes softening in an unspoken plea.
I shake my head. "Maybe another time. We've got a date, Daniels."
He kisses my palm. "Maybe I can add one more thing to the itinerary?"
Rolling my eyes, I shove him out the door along with the copy of The Exorcist to keep him occupied until I'm ready. "Go wait in the living room."
With him gone, I shut the door and turn to my wardrobe. Yesterday, after returning from Ashton's, I spent close to two hours matching and trying on different outfits. I've been on first dates before but this time, it feels holistically different.
He said to dress comfortably. I wasn't sure what he meant by 'cute', so I spent another hour yesterday searching the internet for 'cute first date outfits for men'.
The entire time, I agonized over the fact that I typed those words into a search bar and scrolled for minutes mentally throwing together an outfit based on what's in my closet.
With, and for Sky Daniels, I find myself often doing things I never imagined. But I want to make an impression, still. I want to look good for our first date, which is why I took into consideration his preferences when choosing dark gray jeans, a white button down, and white kicks.
I'm out of my room in about fifteen minutes and when I step into the living room, the book nearly topples out of his hands.
"Jace Conner," he says with a laugh, hiding half his face behind the book. "You're either calculated or plain evil."
"I'll take that as a compliment," I reply with a satisfied grin.
My moment of triumph doesn't last long because he puts the book down, crosses to me and pulls me into a kiss that steals my breath.
My face grows warm and I'm panting by the time he releases me because suddenly, the idea of being late or adding something else to the itinerary doesn't sound like a bad idea.
Sky senses that shift and he takes full advantage of making me pay for my clever little stunt. He takes me by the hand and leads me out to his SUV, opening the front passenger's door.
"What's this?" I ask, pointing out the little black box wrapped in white ribbon with a bow that's resting on the seat.
"It's for you."
"You got me a gift? What for, this time? The flowers and the cake were enough."
Sky leans against the door, watching me with a smile and soft eyes that could get me to do anything – even commit murder. "I can't get my boy something just because I feel like it?"
My face flushes hotter. He called me 'my boy.'
Clearing my throat and hoping to god he doesn't pick up on how much that endearment gets to me, I reach for the box. "What is it?"
"Open it."
Unfastening the ribbon and pulling off the top, the inside is encased in black silk cloth and on a cushion of black suede rests a wristwatch.
Except, where his has a black and silver inlaid band with a square face, this one has a fully silver band.
The watch's face is circular with deep green beneath the glass.
By the logo and brand name marked in silver against the green, I know this piece easily costs five figures.
"There's no way I can take this," I say, closing the box and holding it out to him. "It's too expensive."
Amusement flashes across his face. "I rent out the shooting range and waterfront, but a watch is where you draw the line?"
"You – mmh!" My voice shakes and at this point, I'm hoping not to pass out. "You rented out the waterfront, too? Oh my god!"
I can't believe it.
In fact, I'm in such disbelief that I sway and have to prop myself against the side of the car.
"It's too much. You're doing too much, Sky. This is supposed to be a first date."
"It's the bare minimum."
IT'S THE BARE MINIMUM.
He said it so casually that it steals my resistance and enthusiasm to chatter on the ride to the shooting range.
The whole way there, I'm mentally calculating and trying to gauge scale because while it's no secret old-money wealth has access most never dream of and dropping five and six figures over one item is pocket change,
I'm just beginning to understand how insanely wealthy the founding families of Jasper Falls are.
What's mindboggling is that Sky and his friends don't flaunt their family's wealth. And I wholeheartedly believe that it's the humility that's throwing me off so badly.
They have footholds in every town and city across the region in the three counties. They have stakes and property and investments in almost every major field: technology, real estate, legal, and pharmaceuticals, just to name a few.
A large, warm hand wrapping around mine snaps me to the present. We've arrived at the shooting range and the cars in the parking lot are few, most likely belonging to the employees on call today.
"You're awfully quiet. Got plenty on your mind?" Sky tries lifting the mood, flashing a charmingly boyish smile that makes me melt against the realization of how powerful his family name truly is.
It reminds me that while he has access to unapologetically-petty-and-capable-of-disappearing-people money, he's still human.
And he's been so great to me that I feel awful putting a dampener on the mood.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to."
We're at the entrance but before either of us opens the door, Sky shifts next to me. He rests his chin on my shoulder, hugging me from behind.
"Baby, you're making me feel like I overdid it."
"Cut me some slack. It's the first time someone's spent so much money on me for a date."
"Overwhelmed?" Amusement is thick in his voice. I say nothing in response to which he chuckles, dropping a kiss behind my ear. "You'll have to get used to it," he says walking around me to hold open the door. "This is a small taste of what I can make happen and the gifts I can buy you."
"You plan on buying more?" Dark amusement flashes in his eyes upon hearing the incredulity in my voice.
"I plan on spoiling you."
I don't have a response to that because what would I say? I can't make him stop buying me expensive things. I can draw that boundary, but something tells me it'll be useless because he seems to enjoy the thought of spoiling me.
That much is quickly confirmed when we're approached by an employee the moment we step inside. The manager of the range is a burly man in his thirties with a buzzcut.
He greets us all smiles, on a first-name basis with Sky, and he's all too eager to be of help. We're given a short tour of the facility, pointing out the gear and ammunitions rooms and the restrooms.
They have an indoor range used by amateurs and beginners to perfect their aim. The outdoor range is for those who have mastered their aim and want something challenging in the form of target distance and moving targets.
"You're on a first-name basis with the manager," I muse aloud when we're led into the indoor range.
It's empty except for an instructor stationed at one of the windows, checking magazines and guns. A few feet away from the instructor is a table with other pieces laid out and next it is another, smaller table with two chairs. At the center sits a tray of snacks and drinks.
Sky shrugs, exchanging a few words with the instructor. "I've got it from here. Thanks for preparing everything."
The instructor nods. "I'll be in the observation room. Enjoy your date." And then he's gone, disappearing out the door we'd come through with a soft click.
"Come here often?" It's not lost on me how familiar the staff seems with him. They're comfortable enough to leave him on his own with an amateur at best.
"Sometimes," he admits. "I come here with the guys. But we're outside most of the time." The subtlety of his boasting isn't as inconspicuous as he's hoping though if I know him at all, he's not trying to hide it at all.