Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
I laugh. “There weren’t many opportunities for me to get taken advantage of with four older brothers.”
“Can’t say I blame them for wanting to keep the wolves at bay.” His gaze moves over me in a hot, familiar way.
“You’re not a wolf, though, are you, RJ? You’re a teddy bear.”
His dimpled grin appears. “I’m glad you think that. You feeling better now?”
“Much, thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done tonight if you hadn’t come to get me.” Other than cry, anyway.
“I’m glad I could. Tomorrow we can go back and get the rest of your stuff.”
“The owners of the cabin will be back at the end of the week, I think. I can let them know the roof needs to be fixed.” I work on sounding flippant about it, because I’ve already been the damsel in distress more times than I’d like with RJ.
RJ cocks a brow. “At the risk of sounding like I’m telling you what to do, you can’t stay there anymore, Lainey.”
“I’ve already paid for it, though, and I can’t afford to rent something else.”
“You don’t have to rent something else. You can stay here. Four bedrooms, remember? And you’re already set up in one of them. Unless you don’t want to stay here. If that’s the case, then I can drive you to town and we can see what’s available there, but that cabin is a total shithole, and I can’t in good conscience take you back there unless it’s to get your things.”
CHAPTER 9
SENSORY EXPLORATION
Rook
Shit. That might not have been the right thing to say.
Lainey’s expression remains flat for several more seconds before she finally cracks a smile. “It really is a dump, isn’t it?”
I’m relieved she didn’t take that the wrong way. “I gotta be honest—I felt bad leaving you there the first night.”
“I felt bad about that too.”
I laugh at her wry grin. “So you’ll stay here? I don’t have to worry about that roof caving in on you or the raccoons cuddling in bed with you?”
“I think mice and spiders are the more likely cuddlers.” Lainey shudders. “Yes, I’ll stay for now.”
We sit by the fire, drinking spiked hot chocolate and talking about what it’s like to grow up with four older brothers and three older sisters. I like that I can talk about my siblings and my family with her. As we share stories, I decide I should come out and tell her the truth about my job and hope that she isn’t upset that I wasn’t honest in the first place. I prop myself up on one arm so I can look directly at her. She’s reclined against a pile of pillows, long hair spilling over her shoulders, eyes soft, cheeks pink with the heat from the fire and the spiked hot chocolate.
“I want to tell you something.” I finger a lock of silky hair, nervous and second-guessing myself. I really don’t want this to change things.
She smiles and bites her lip. “Okay. Sure. You can tell me anything, RJ.”
I return her smile, but I doubt mine is as easy. “So you know how I said—”
A flash of lightning makes Lainey’s eyes flare with panic and her face pale. “Oh no. I thought the storm was over.”
An impressive crack of thunder follows that statement, and she sits up, pulling her knees to her chest so she’s almost a little ball.
Obviously my truth has to wait. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe.” I shift so I can put an arm around her.
“It’s silly to be afraid of thunder.” She turns to me, her entire body shaking.
I slip an arm under her legs and move her so she’s in my lap. “Human teddy bear right here, offering safety cuddles, free of judgment.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry.” She presses her forehead against the side of my neck, warmth feathering across my throat with her panicked breaths.
“You don’t need to apologize for being scared, Lainey. Did you have a bad experience during a storm?” It’s the only reason I can come up with for her to be so freaked out.
She nods against my shoulder.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She’s quiet for long enough that I almost backtrack.
“Remember how I said I went to Seattle for college?”
“But you didn’t stay long.” She said she was only there a month. I assumed the city was too much for her.
“No. I didn’t.”
“What happened?” Now I’m trying to figure out how thunderstorms and leaving her college program fit together.
“I lived off campus in the student apartments. There was a thunderstorm one night, and the building lost power—so when I woke up, it was only about twenty minutes before class. We were getting tests back that day, and I decided I’d rather be late than miss it altogether, so I got ready and rushed to campus. I was only about five minutes late. It was still storming, lots of thunder and lightning.” She shudders and curls up tight against me. “I was on my way up the stairs into the lecture hall. There was this sound, and at first I thought it was thunder.”