“You’re not slow.” I reach across and take her hand.
Her eyes widen.
“Don’t say things like that about yourself, okay? It’s not true. Not even a little.”
Scarab jumps into the seat beside her and curls up.
“You don’t know me that well. I could be a huge dumdum.” She laughs.
“Well, let’s examine that. What are you going to school for?”
Her cheeks turn a darling shade of pink. “I’m studying engineering and design. I haven’t decided which subspecialty yet, but I really like my classes on ergonomic design. Did you know engineers can use math and science to design spaces and hardware for people to live more comfortably and also for people with disabilities? Just imagine all the ways I could help. I’m actually working on using a 3D printer to create a prosthetic for a local shelter cat who’s missing her back right paw. If I can model it correctly and finish the mechanics of the ankle bones via a system of ball bearings and–” She stops, then looks down. “Sorry, I know I ramble about–”
“Don’t you dare apologize.” I squeeze her small hand in mine.
She smiles, her warmth like a ray of sun.
“When you said you don’t understand your brother’s friends–vapid party kids–I think it’s likely more accurate that they don’t understand you. And maybe that’s a good thing.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” I can’t even begin to fathom how I managed to luck out on finding Milly, but the more I get to know her, the more I realize she’s like a hidden gem. A priceless bit of artistry that no one’s truly noticed, but I can see her just fine.
“Wow.” She reaches out with her free hand and pets Scarab. “I mean, we just met, but I feel like you sort of … know me?”
“I want to.” It’s no exaggeration to say I’ve never wanted to know much about anyone else. After all, I steal for a living. That’s a solitary lifestyle. I have a mountain of secrets inside me, ones that will never see the light of day. I suppose that’s why I’ve kept everyone at arm’s length. Mrs. Verne got close out of sheer force of will, but she’s a different breed. Just like Milly.
“What about you? Did you go to college?” she asks.
“No.”
“Did you want to?”
I shrug. “Not really. I had good parents, normal home life, and all that for the most part, but I always wanted more. And not more in the sense of getting a big job or going to a great school. I wanted to carve my own path. So I did.”
She shifts in her seat. “Um, so what do you do for a living? I don’t think rescuing women from kidnapping attempts is a sustainable profession.”
That makes me smile. “You’re the only one. Don’t worry, I’m not making a living as anyone’s hero.”
“You’re mine.” She clears her throat. “My hero, I mean.”
Why does that strike a chord inside me? Those words from her lips are like a shot of adrenaline or a snort of coke. Powerful and invigorating. “I’ve never been anyone’s hero.”
“It suits you.” She leans forward. “The way you came to my rescue, the way you’ve been taking care of me ever since–you’re definitely hero material.”
I lean forward, too, and I can’t help but glance at her pink lips. “How do you know? Have you met many heroes?”
“No.” She scrunches her nose. “I’ve met plenty of villains, though.”
I don’t care for the sound of that. “Like who?”
“Like my father.” She drops her gaze. “Like everyone who works for him or with him.”
“Hey.” I tilt her chin up until she’s looking at me again. “I’ll keep you safe. Even if I have to keep you safe from him. All right?”
“All right.” God, the trust she puts in me. I don’t deserve it, but damn, I still want it. No one’s ever looked at me like this or thought I was anything better than a high-end criminal. But she doesn’t look at me that way. Not at all. To her, I’m a hero. She continues, “Not that he’d hurt me. He wouldn’t. My dad just sort if, I guess, ignores me. He has his own stuff he’s always busy with, and he’s got Henry, who’ll follow in his footsteps. At least, that’s the plan.” She sighs. “I’ll tell you who he is. I know I should. I’m just–I don’t know–I don’t want my family to change what you think of me.”
“If I tell you what I do for a living, will that change what you think of me?” I move even closer, our knees touching as we soar through the sky toward Paris.
She thinks for a few seconds. “I guess not. I’m just curious. I want to know about you. Tell me everything.”
I laugh. “Everything will take a very long time.”
“How long till Paris?” She smiles.
“Not long enough.” I’m so close now. And when she tilts her head up just a little, I can’t stop myself. Her lashes drop, and I kiss her, tasting her for the first time.