Bachelor Swap by Lacey Black (best ebook reader under 100 .TXT) 📗

She walks to me, since I’m suddenly unable to move. “You’re early,” she says.

“You’re beautiful.”

Her entire face lights up with my compliment as I reach for her. She’s wearing a light purple wrap dress that hits just below her knees and a pair of nude heels. Her brown hair is down in curls that make my fingers tingle to touch, and she’s carrying a black sweater. It looks delicate against her soft pale skin, a sight that goes straight to my groin.

“Are you going to tell me yet?” she asks as she steps directly in front of me.

I bend down and kiss her offered cheek, but all on their own, my lips detour to hers. I don’t mean for anything but a sweet, chaste kiss, but that’s not what happens. The moment my lips meet hers, I want to devour, to claim her as my own and never let her go.

That’s a startling revelation.

I pull my mouth from hers with a pop and gaze down at her face. There’s the slightest hint of a smile on her lips and her eyelids are still closed. “Well, hello to you too,” she quips.

When her eyes finally meet mine, hers are dancing with delight and maybe a little desire. “Are you ready?” I ask.

She takes in my appearance. I’m wearing dark jeans and my boots and paired it with another one of my brother’s crisp button-downs. For a second, I considered throwing on a tie, but since I could count on one hand how many times I’ve worn a tie, I decided against it. They’re just not for me. “You look nice.”

“You look gorgeous. No one will even know I’m there once I’m standing beside you,” I state. The compliment heats up her cheeks a touch and makes her smile, which I realize is my goal for the rest of the night. To make her grin as much as humanly possible.

“Doubt that,” she replies, threading her arm through mine.

I guide her to the elevator, which is still waiting on the top floor, and escort her inside. We’re both quiet as we move downward and the door opens again, depositing us on the ground floor.

“George is here,” she states, noticing my brother’s town car sitting in front of the door.

“I thought it’d be nice to have a driver tonight,” I reply as we step outside.

“Good evening, Miss Morgan,” George greets, offering a wide smile.

“George, lovely to see you this evening,” Kyla replies, as she slides into the back seat of the awaiting car.

I nod at my driver as I slip into the back seat, the door shutting securely behind me. “So, are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?” she asks, setting her sweater on the seat beside her and buckling the seat belt.

“I am not,” I answer, fastening my own belt.

Kyla gives me a withering look that makes me laugh. “Really?”

“Really,” I state, reaching over and grabbing her hand. Once our fingers are threaded together, we sit back as George merges into traffic and takes off toward our destination. The partition is up, giving us privacy to talk freely without being overheard. The entire drive, we catch up on things that happened since the last time we spoke, which was last evening, and before I realize it, we’re pulling in front of the large building.

She turns and looks out, her eyes wide with shock as realization sets in. “This is Butterfly Meadow.”

“It is,” I reply, as George opens the door for us to exit.

“Mr. Wilder, so good to have you with us this evening. Miss Morgan,” the manager greets as we step up to the front entrance.

“Hello,” Kyla replies.

We follow behind the manager, who vowed to personally oversee tonight’s date. into the large vestibule filled with butterfly memorabilia. “Right this way,” he guides, leading us down the corridor. “The building closed at six o’clock, so you have free rein to view the butterflies and exhibits. Dinner will be served at seven.” And with that, he opens the door to their private butterfly garden.

“Dinner?” she asks, stepping inside the large climate-controlled room.

“Dinner,” I confirm. The door closes behind us, leaving us alone with hundreds of butterflies.

“Oh,” she gasps, gazing at the insects flying and fluttering about. “This is breathtaking.”

I know she’s referring to the butterfly habitat we’re standing in, but that’s not where my eyes are trained. I’m staring at her, at the sight before me, and yes, it’s breathtaking. “You’re stunning,” I find myself whispering.

She rewards me with another one of those grins that lights up her face. “I was talking about the butterflies.”

“And I was talking about you.”

We walk around the garden, reading interesting facts about the different butterfly species. I’m not sure if it’s the actual butterflies that are so fascinating or the person I’m with, but I realize quickly I’m truly enjoying my time here. With her.

I catch movement across the room and see a waiter who waves his readiness. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” she replies, slipping her hand into the crook of my arm and allowing me to lead her to the opposite side of the room.

A small table for two is positioned where we can see the butterflies, but we’re not right in the middle of the activity. I hold out Kyla’s chair and take the one opposite her once she’s seated at the table. “I have your wine, sir, ma’am,” the waiter says, pouring a glass of red wine for Kyla. I don’t know jack about wines, so I left it up to the caterer to pair a bottle of something nice with tonight’s menu. “I’ll return with your entrees shortly. Please enjoy the appetizers.” He removes the lid off the platter in the center and leaves us to eat in peace.

“Wow, that looks amazing,” she half whispers, half groans in delight. The pan is split in half with two options for us to enjoy.

“I hope you like scallops,” I say, scooping two from one side of the dish and placing them