ONE MORNING AFTER Sinclair has ordered room service and we’ve eaten our fill, Sinclair asks, “Don’t you want to explore the city, little goddess?”
I—in the middle of drying my wet curls after my shower—pause and stare at him blankly. Honestly, touring around Paris had never occurred to me even though it’s the reason most people from other countries come here. During the first week of my trip, I was so caught up in Sinclair’s moods and how drastically different he was here than he had been in Willow’s Creek. And now, the two of us were caught up in...other things. Not once had the thought of tourism popped into my head even though France was on my list of places to go before I die.
Sinclair must read this on my face because his eyebrows raise and his lips quirk up in amusement. “You ha
