EXAMPLE PAGE - EBOOKS - THE PROMISE OF THE TEA GODS - Flipbook - Page 58
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H. K. O'HARA
Laughing, she said, “Lighten up, Buttercup, or you’re going to earn
yourself the title of Birthday Card Criminal—and of course the entire
world will come to an end as soon as the news gets out.”
Okay. Well. He almost laughed. But he stopped it from spilling out
into the universe. He would stay true to his misery—that was the least
he could do to prove his remorse. “I’ll try,” he said. “But, seriously, I
really do want to know what things matter the most to you.”
She dropped the shell in her hand, quickly scooped up another, then
returned her eyes to his, saying, “Love really matters. Joy really matters.
The freedom to create really matters. And ice cream—ice cream is definitely on the top of my list of things that really matter.”
The look on her face was priceless. Soo-kang burst out laughing.
“Well it’s about time!” she said, dipping her hands into the waves
and splashing him. “Good thing I didn’t have to throw you into the
ocean to wash your troubles away. You probably would have drowned
just to prove you’re deserving of a slow, sad, saltwater death.”
She splashed him again. And then it happened. He let go. He scooped
up huge handfuls of water and drenched her. She screamed with delight.
He splashed her more. She took off running. He was right behind her.
Turning around and running backwards, her rapturous smile slid
right into the center of his heart; quickly followed by the ever-unforgettable question, “You do know what they do with Birthday Card Criminals who wash up on the shore, don’t you?”
Soo-kang doubled over laughing. She was like a precious flower unexpectedly popping up in the middle of a long, gray mile—adding color
to everything she touched. He knew he didn’t deserve even one moment
of her, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from wanting more. His heart
urged him forward, toward the golden edge of her radiant world, while
a drum corps of dark thoughts pounded out a death-chant inside his
head: Here today, gone tomorrow, gone tomorrow . . . He knew it was
true—she hadn’t mentioned ever seeing him again, and why would she?
He was a menace to her existence, the rapid-deleter, the notorious unfriender of angels who had heartlessly thrown her away . . . But it
seemed as if he was being pulled into paradise by an invisible hand, and
