Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 29741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Her heart raced, her hands shaking.
What was happening? What was going on?
“Mon chéri, what’s wrong?” Matthieu asked, his accent slipping out. That only happened when he was upset.
Why was he upset? Had something happened? Had he seen someone?
“Betsy? Talk to me. Wait, I’ll pull out of the way.” He moved the truck as she forced herself to sit up.
And that’s when she realized that man hadn’t actually done anything. He’d simply stepped out in front of them suddenly.
That was it.
She’d overreacted.
And the reason Matthieu was upset was because she was upset.
Crap.
“I’m fine. Sorry about that.” She sat up further and straightened her clothes. “Um, shall we head home?”
“Betsy,” he said warningly. “You panicked. Your breathing grew all shaky and you were trembling and as white as a ghost. Tell me what happened.”
She blew out a breath. “I’m just on edge, that’s all. I’m really okay. I think I’d just feel better at home.”
Matthieu was silent for a long moment, then nodded.
Betsy sighed, glad he’d let it go.
She should have known better.
8
“Betsy.”
She let out a scream, her hot cocoa flying into the air and landing all over her hand and lap.
Holy crap.
When she’d gotten home, she’d tried to send Matthieu away, telling him that she would be fine.
But he’d simply stared at her before going into the kitchen to make her a hot cocoa.
That’s what she was sipping on now as she sat on the sofa under her reindeer blanket. She had a Christmas movie playing on the TV and had been doing some online shopping on her phone.
“Ouch,” she cried as the hot chocolate burned her hand.
“Fuck! Fuck, sorry, Brown eyes.” Ink leaped toward her, grabbing her wrist so he could hold her hand still. “Shit. It’s red.”
“It’s fine. The hot chocolate wasn’t even that hot.” Well, it was a bit hot. And it did kind of burn. But it really wasn’t that big of a deal . . .
Only, she couldn’t seem to convince Ink of that as he scooped her up and ran with her into the kitchen.
“What happened?” Matthieu demanded as Ink set her down in front of the sink and turned on the tap.
Then he held her hand gently under the cold water.
“Oh no! Not the cold water. I hate the cold water. My hand is fine.”
“Has she burned her hand?” Matthieu asked worriedly. “How?”
“I surprised her and she spilled her hot cocoa,” Ink explained.
“I told you that she was jumpy,” Matthieu scolded.
It took her a moment to realize that he was scolding Ink and not her.
“Yeah, I realize that now,” Ink replied in a low, grumbly voice.
“Why would you scare her?” Matthieu added.
“Guys!”
“I thought you were exaggerating,” Ink told him. “She hasn’t seemed jumpy before now.”
“Guys!” she said again, trying to get their attention.
“Well, she was when we were out shopping and that seems to have continued on even once we got back here,” Matthieu said.
“Guys!” Were they going to just keep ignoring her when she was standing right here?
“Fuck. What is going on?” Ink muttered.
“Will you guys stop talking about me like I’m not here?” she commanded, stomping her foot.
Both of them fell silent and stared down at her. She drew her hand from the water.
“Put your hand back,” they barked together.
Okay, then.
“Did you just stomp your foot?” Ink drawled, coming around to stand on her right side while Matthieu stood on her left.
She stared over at him nervously. “You were talking about me like I’m not even here.”
He sighed and glanced over her head at Matthieu. “I guess we were. Sorry about that, Button.”
“Sorry, Betsy,” Matthieu said sheepishly.
“All right, then. Can I take my hand out? It’s starting to feel numb from the cold.”
Ink drew it out and inspected it. “Leave it under the water a bit longer. Matthieu, you can head off now.”
“You’re staying?” Matthieu asked.
“Yep, I’m home for the day.”
What? But it was only lunchtime.
“I’ll get Zippy from school later,” Ink told him.
Matthieu nodded and lightly patted Betsy’s back. “Everything will be okay, Betsy.”
Of course it would be.
She wasn’t worried.
Well. She was somewhat worried. But it wasn’t like it was keeping her up at night as she lay in bed with her eyes closed, pretending to sleep while thinking of everything that could go wrong.
All the ways that asshole could get to Zippy and she wouldn’t be able to protect her.
Her breathing grew choppy.
Okay.
Perhaps she was somewhat stressed.
“Baby, just breathe for me,” Ink told her in a low voice. “It’s all right. Deep breath in. Let it out slowly. Good girl. And again for Daddy. Take a breath in. One. Two. Now, let it out again. Three. Four.”
She glanced down at her hand as he removed it from under the water.
“No. Eyes on me,” he said firmly. “I want you to take another breath. In. One. Two. Out. Three. Four. That’s my good girl. You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”