(THIRD BOOK in the Golden Girl Series)
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"Till death do you part?" The priest finishes off with.
"I do," I answer - knowing how ready I am to die with this man.
***
You've been on Amber Marigold's journey since she arrived at Tygerwell. Now join...
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"Does he have a name?" Kyle asks with a casual smile.
I pat my leg and Pollock comes trotting over. Traitor, I say to him with a look when he smiles at me with that dumb golden expression. Why's my own dog getting friendly with the enemy?
"Pollock," I answer.
"Like Jackson Pollock?" Kyle asks. I nod and he adds, "Of course. You're a painter, isn't that right?"
"I heard you paint as well," I say, crouching down to pet Pollock and make sure Kyle didn't do anything weird to him.
"Ah yes, I love painting stormy landscapes."
"I like peaceful landscapes," I reply.
There's an awkward silence, as I straighten back up and look Kyle over. With my dog fine, I can inspect him, but other than the all-black casual look of jeans and a shirt, there's nothing particularly special. Not unless you count the blue and grey paint on his pants that is.
"I was actually on my way to lunch. Would you like to join me, Amber? I feel there are things we must discuss," Kyle asks, offering his elbow.
I really don't want to join him for lunch, but... I never say no for food and for the plan Xavier and I agreed to, to work, I'd have to get closer to this maniac.
"I'd love to," I answer, hooking my elbow with his and following him through the gardens. He smells like paint, I note. Paint and ink. Pollock trails behind us, playfully looking out for insects while not keeping too far behind. I wonder if Pollock would maul Kyle's leg if I signaled him to. The way Pual teaches him to attack teddies.
"It's quite lovely weather, we should take advantage of the pools sometime," Kyle comments, his face turned up to absorb the sunlight. He's much tanner than Blake, but the hair and silver eyes are the exact same.
"We're not on holiday," I grumble, looking straight ahead.
"Aren't you on your honeymoon?"
"I had my honeymoon during the weekend."
"How was it?"
I choke on nothing and try to clear my throat awkwardly. He's just asking how the weekend was, Amber. Not how the... activities were. Calm the hell down.
