Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2) Read Online Free Page A

High Park, right?” I asked.
    “That’s right. Will your boots keep your feet warm if we were to walk along the paths?”
    “My boots are fine. Yours? Not so much,” I pointed out.
    Authoritative-sounding and hellishly sexy? Yes. Practical? Not at all.
    “Don’t worry about me.” He climbed out and came around to open my door. “Careful. It’s slippery.”
    “I’m fine. It’s just a bit of snow.”
    “Okay. Well, give me a minute.”
    The snow was coming down in thick, wet chunks. It was dark, peaceful, and, dare I say it, beautiful. While Daniel poked around in the trunk, I tried to find my gloves. Where had Daniel thrown them earlier? I rooted around on the passenger side floor of the car and found one, but couldn’t locate the other one.
    “Crap!”
    “What’s wrong?” Daniel asked as I continued to dig around under my seat. “Well, this is an unexpected treat,” he said, stepping up behind me and putting his hands on my hips.
    “Be serious for a second, would you? I can’t find my other glove.”
    He laughed. “Wow, that’s incredible. You’ve truly got a gift.”
    “Hey, this wasn’t my fault. You’re the one who threw them around earlier.”
    “You’re right. I’m a cad. We’ll look for it later, though, okay? Let’s head out before it gets too late.”
    I sighed. “All right.”
    I slipped my single glove on and pulled my hood over my hair, tightening the toggles.
    “You look adorable,” he said, dropping a soft kiss on my lips. “And completely unrecognizable,” he added with a wink. He tugged my bare hand into his pocket.
    I motioned to the blanket hanging over his arm. “Do you always keep that in your car?”
    “Winter survival kit.”
    “Of course. Very practical. Tell me, Mr. Grant, are you actually doing something spontaneous or did you plan this?”
    “Me? Do something impulsive? Surely you jest.”
    “True. What was I thinking? You’re so much like your father. Not an impulsive bone in your body.”
    “Well, maybe one,” he said, laughing.
    We walked on in silence for a couple of minutes. “It is a lovely night,” I admitted at last.
    “These are the best snowfalls, when it’s not too cold and the snow sticks to the trees. It’s so peaceful. Perfect. I missed this when I was in the UK.”
    I turned to smile at him, and he frowned. “What?”
    “You’re quite the sensitive soul, aren’t you?” I asked.
    “I’m not sure how to answer that. I wouldn’t want you to think I’m a pussy.”
    “Why do guys make it seem like caring about things is a sign of weakness? So you appreciate nature. You love poetry. You care about your grandmother. You’re sensitive and you do thoughtful things—why does any of that have to be construed as you being a pussy? I don’t understand.”
    “That’s because you’re not a guy with two merciless brothers.”
    “What’s that got to do with how I feel about you, though?”
    “Nothing, I guess. Just so long as you don’t rat me out,” he said sheepishly.
    Men. Regardless of how sensitive Daniel seemed, at the end of the day, he was a man. A gorgeous and incredibly sexy man. And miracle of miracles, he was mine .
    “Okay, here we are,” he said, approaching a park bench at the edge of the path. He brushed the snow off and then stretched the blanket out on the slats and sat down.
    “You wanted to show me a bench?” I sat beside him.
    “This isn’t any old bench. Look.” He took out his phone, leaned away from me, and shone the display at an engraved plaque fixed to the top slat.
    “In loving memory of Bradford Daniel Wright. ‘ Kites rise highest against the wind—not with it,’” I read.
    Daniel smiled sadly as he pocketed his phone and slipped his arm around me.
    “Your grandfather,” I said.
    “He and Patty used to come to High Park every day to walk, and they’d always stop and sit here. After he passed away, Patty made a donation to the municipality, and they put this plaque on the bench. The words