Free Ambrosia (Nectar Trilogy, Book 2) by DD Prince Page A

of another mirror and it just reflects endlessly?”
    “Yeah,” she smiled. She knew just what he meant.
    “That’s what it feels like when you feel what I feel.”
    “Some of them, my feelings, they aren’t fun, though,” she winced, “I’ve gone from pushing emotion away to obsessing about everything. I’m driving myself cuckoo.”
    “It’ll get better. I promise to do my best to keep the seesaw leaning in the fun direction, as much as possible, okay?”
    “Kay. What’s the plan today?”
    “We get as much road behind us as possible. Tomorrow night we’ll be in Southern Nevada. We’ll stop there and stay the night.”
    “Vegas?” Her eyes lit up and she sat up. Las Vegas had been something she’d always wanted to do. She loved the idea that many hotels had different themes so it was like you were in Paris, then in New York City, and then in Rio, and then in Egypt, and then medieval times and all in the same day if you wanted.  Shows, slot machines, doing the touristy thing. It sounded fun. Sounded normal.
    “If you want. Some fun?”
    “Uh, hello? Yes!” Kyla was excited.
    “Alright. Then we’ll hang out there for the night and then get back on the road the next day.”
    “Or maybe a day or three or three hundred after that?” Kyla raised her eyebrows.
    Tristan pulled her on top of him and kissed her forehead, “Maybe we should just get the whole Adrian thing over with. And besides, he’s waiting. Let’s not prolong the inevitable. We can go back to Vegas afterwards. Maybe find a little Elvis chapel?” He raised his eyebrows.
    What the fuck?
    Kyla’s heart skipped a beat. She chose to ignore that comment, unsure if it was a joke or what and definitely not ready to even think along those lines at this moment.
    “Or…” Kyla pulled away and sat back up, “We avoid going to Adrian’s for as long as possible in case it goes horribly wrong.”
    “Not very pragmatic to procrastinate, sweetheart.”
    “I’m not CEO material like you, I guess. I’m totally fine with prolonging and procrastination where this situation is concerned.”
    He laughed. He was trying to keep it light; so was she. The Elvis wedding chapel thing must’ve been a joke.
    Must have.
    But there was an undercurrent in the air trying to grab her and drag her back down due to her fear of the unknown.
    She leaned over and started scrubbing his cheek with her nails, “When are you gonna shave this off, anyway? You’re quickly going from rugged and sexy to not too far off mountain man territory and I gotta say: not feeling it…”
    She stood up, about to go to the washroom. He reached over, hooked his arm around her waist, and hauled her back onto the bed and pinned her.
    In truth, he was totally sexy and highly fuckable with his unshaven face. Maybe even more so.
    “Yeah, well you’re one to talk with your partly shaved leg, mountain woman! Maybe we should both just head for the hills and live in the backwoods with our hairy selves, huh?”
    He planted a big wet raspberry on her belly. She squealed and tried to get away. He started to tickle her.
    She squealed again, “No, no, no, don’t! I can’t, I can’t handle tickling, I can’t, I…”
    He stopped for a second, “Oh…have I found another one of your weaknesses, maybe?”
    “Eek!” She dashed off the bed but he caught her and pinned her on the adjacent bed.
    “No tickling, please. I can’t breathe when I’m tickled, I---”
    Something flashed in her memory, ugly scenes from a foster home. She pushed it back. Tristan must’ve felt it because he stopped instantly.
    “You okay?” He was suddenly serious. She nodded and tried not to give that ugliness any further thought.
    “Tickling is not my weakness.” She poked at his chest, backing off that bed and then backed up toward the bathroom.
    “Oh no?”
    He was smiling but she could feel that he was holding back, unsure about her reaction to the tickling. He stalked toward her.
    “Dimples…” She