Six Rules: Book Two in the SIX Series by Randileigh Kennedy Page A

us. But maybe if we just
put what we want on the table now, then there’s less room for error. We wouldn’t
have to waste time trying to figure out what the other person wanted or
expected.”
               I stared back at him for a moment, taking in his boyish
smile, his perfectly combed hair, and his defined jaw line. I suppose if
something like this could really work, he wouldn’t be a terrible person to
experiment with. I reached into my purse and grabbed a pen.
               “What’s your lucky number?” he asked casually.
               “Easy, thirteen,” I replied.
               “Thirteen? That’s your number? Who has thirteen as their
lucky number? That seems dreadful,” he retorted. “Especially in a gambling town
like this. There’s really a reason these casinos don’t have thirteenth floors
you know.”
               “Hey, you asked. I like to defy superstition, just out of
principle that it’s stupid. It’s just a number. It has to be lucky for
somebody,” I answered.
               Greyson shook his head. “So we’ve determined you’re an
optimist, great. So we’ll have thirteen rules then, the final rule being that
in exactly three weeks from today if either of us isn’t getting everything they
want and you aren’t insanely happy, then we can just walk away from all of
this. We can meet up here in exactly three weeks from today. You just show up
if you want this to be a real thing, or you don’t show up if you want out.
Simple as that.”
               “Well, I’ve stood you up before so at least I know you can
take it,” I teased.
               “I’m pretty sure you just got lost that night and you
couldn’t find the place. Women are terrible with directions,” he rebuffed.
“Okay, so that gives us each six rules.” He changed the subject quickly. “These
are things you want that would make this your ultimate, perfect relationship.”
               As we ate our food, my mind swirled with ideas. Surely I
should be able to think of a mere six things I wanted in a boyfriend, right? As
I was deep in thought, I noticed Greyson had grabbed my pen. He wrote for about
ninety seconds, set the pen down, then folded his napkin in half.
               “You’re done?” I asked, almost spitting out some of my
food. My napkin was still blank.
               “Hey, I’m a guy who knows what I want,” he responded with
a smirk.
               Great, cocky Greyson returns. If I knew anything about
men, I assumed more than half of his rules would be sexual in some way. We
didn’t exactly talk about what was fair game here. But this contract, myside
of it at least, was about me. This was my chance to actually choose what
I wanted. I could create the perfect man. I was going to have to make him work
hard for this idea. Maybe that would finally wipe away his arrogant, handsome
stare.

 

Chapter 8
              
               We finished our food and I was happy to have finished the
list on the back of my napkin.
               “So when is the big reveal? How do you want to do this?” I
asked.
               “Over dessert. Come with me,” Greyson said, getting up
from the table.
               “We have to get the check first. Where is our waitress?” I
asked, looking around the restaurant.
               “It’s already been taking care of. Let’s go,” he said
eagerly.
               “What do you mean it’s already been taken care of? How did
that happen?” I asked, mildly amused.
               “I knew if I had to wait for the bill you would argue with
me about paying it, right? So I’m saving you the energy,” he said with a sly
smile. “I took care of it.”
               “Well, I don’t expect for you to just pay for things for
me,” I replied, a little annoyed.
               “Which is