Bounty Read Online Free PDF Page B

“I guess. I mean I don’t know about that stuff, but sounds good. Like… birds pop out of coo clocks, right?”
    I laugh. “You mean coo coo clocks? I don’t even make those.”
    “Maybe you should, Bluebird, ” he smiles.
    “Oh, and that’s not my real name,” I say, feeling daring.
    “Excuse me?”
    My dad’s warned me against this, many times, stressing the importance of maintaining my ‘stage’ or ‘art’ name, especially with anyone who’s been in my shop. But fuck it, I’m so tired of doing exactly what he says.
    “My name is April Fitzpatrick.”
    Liam’s face does something strange, and the only way I can think to describe it is quiet. His face goes quiet for a moment. Is he mad I lied to him?
    “It’s just a business name,” I say. “You know. Branding.”
    Liam’s face is carefully blank for one more moment, and then he breaks into a grin, his eyes bright. “You chose Bluebird? You total nerd ,” and we’re back to teasing and I let out a sigh of relief.
    “Well, it sounds cuter, doesn’t it?”
    But it’s so nice to use my real name. Even though Fitzpatrick isn’t as glamorous, it’s mine. My mother’s, to be exact.
    “I don’t even know your last name.” Suddenly it strikes me how strange and reckless and unlike me this whole thing has been.
    “It’s Copperhead.”
    “Like David Copperhead?”
    He laughs at me. “Copperfield you mean?”
    I try not to blush. “Sure. The magician.”
    “Have I cast a spell on you yet, darling?” He waggles his eyebrows at me.
    “Kind of,” I confess, and immediately feel my face heat up. “I mean, in more of a stupefying way than—”
    He reaches across the table and traces his fingers across my elbow, down my forearm, to my hand. His fingertips grazing across my palm are like electricity. My heart leaps in my chest. It’s almost unbearable — I miss being touched like this, and it feels so good. And Liam is unbearably attractive. Just watching his forearm muscles twist and bulge back and forth as he traces my wrist is mesmerizing. I can see each tendon, imagine the strong grip of those hands. How firm, how sure they would be, grasping my waist, my hipbones, holding me down and making me whimper with need. How amazing his fingers would feel, deep inside me, pressing into me, opening me wider. How wet could he make me with those wide, rough fingers and strong hands?
    Oh, fuck. No. That’s a terrible idea.
    I let his hand rest on mine across the table anyway.
    “Shall we head back to the car?” he asks, and a shot of heat moves through me, centered between my legs. There’s no denying it — I want to fuck him. My pussy is literally aching for him. I feel it throbbing, beating into the chair below me.
    “Okay,” I say.
    He drops my hand, and we get up to leave. It’s like a spell really has been broken.
    He’s quiet on the walk to my car. Maybe he’s tired. I’m tired too, but it’s the soft, glowing exhaustion of a good day. The warmth of sunset on my skin. My insides are still aching for him and I feel almost dizzy.
    “You okay to drive?”
    “Oh, yeah,” I say distantly. “It’s really close, actually. Basically just around the corner.”
    “Let me just walk you home, then,” he says. “Just to be safe.”
    I don’t need the help, but…
    “Sure,” I say, and he smiles, and again my traitorous heart leaps.
    It’s only a five-minute walk, and the entire time I am hyper-aware of his shoulder mere inches from mine. What his hand felt like. I want to take it and interlace our fingers together. Or, rather, I wish he’d take mine. But I can’t give in, I don’t want him to know his charm works so well. And besides, guys like him aren’t gonna walk down the street holding hands sweetly with someone they haven’t even fucked. I mean, he’s probably just interested in sex. If that. And as much as I could probably be okay with that, I know I’m a wreck right now. My feelings are all over the place. I wouldn’t