Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
If it keeps coming down like this, the road leading back to town will flood and I’ll have no way of getting back to Keanu and Kyle until the creek goes down. Keanu will probably be okay—he’s pretty chill once he’s been fed, and I made sure to give them both dinner before I left—but Kyle gets anxious if I’m not there to tuck him in at night. Turkeys are social creatures and Kyle is such a snuggle bug, he can’t settle until he’s had a cuddle and a bedtime story.
As I punch in the code and hurry inside after Christian, I’m mentally berating myself for letting my inner sex nymph out to cause trouble at the worst possible moment. Wren and Barrett are out of town, and I don’t have anyone to call for help with the fur and feather babies except Nora, who has an animal phobia and is still pretty spooked by critters unless there’s another human around for moral support.
I should have been focused on being a responsible pet parent, not indulging my lustful curiosity, especially my lustful curiosity about an employee. I’m a horrible person, a fact I prove by scaring Christian half to death in the hallway leading back to the kennels.
“Fuck,” he mutters as his breath rushes out. “I told you to stay in the car.”
“Sorry. I didn’t feel right about it.” I hold up the small canister in my hand. “I brought my pepper spray in case you needed backup.”
He grunts. “I don’t think we’ll need it. It just looks like the power is out.” He flicks the switch on the wall up and down with no effect. “Though it could be a blown fuse. Let’s find a flashlight, and I’ll check.”
“There’s one in the office, in my bottom desk drawer.” I shift around him in the dark, doing my best to ignore the fresh tingles rippling across my skin as he rests a hand on my waist and guides me toward the breakroom and the offices beyond. “You can wait here if you want.”
“No, I’m coming with you,” he says, sticking close as I shuffle through the near pitch black of the windowless breakroom. “I’m not sure you can be trusted on your own tonight.”
“What?” I huff, my heart beating faster for reasons I can’t fully explain. Maybe it’s the darkness, maybe it’s the heat from Christian’s body warm against my damp back, maybe it’s the stress of the cell phone message debacle. Whatever it is, my voice is breathy as I add, “Why’s that?”
“Well, I have a feeling you might have been drinking,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rumble that makes my pulse race even faster.
“I had a couple shots earlier, to celebrate Wren and Barrett tying the knot,” I say, managing to pull off an indignant tone. “But I’m sober now and fine to drive. I would never get behind the wheel if I weren’t.” I chew my lip before adding, “Why would you think that anyway? I don’t smell like tequila, do I?”
“No, you smell like Starling,” he says as we reach the entrance to the office we share with Kane and Sheila, the woman who runs the day-to-day operations at the shelter. Sheila, who’s out of town on a camping trip this weekend. If she weren’t, she would have fielded the call from Kane and I wouldn’t be standing in the shadows with Christian McGuire, trying not to launch myself at his lips as he adds, “Like honeysuckle and sunshine.”
I turn, studying his face in the dim gray light coming through the windows. I can’t make out his expression very well, but he didn’t sound like he was kidding.
“You really think I smell like that?” I whisper as he moves closer, so close his abundant body heat warms my front this time.
“I do. And something else, something sweet I can’t place, but I think is just…you.”
I tip my head back, my heart throbbing in my throat. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I hope that wasn’t oversharing. But I figured, since you filled me in on the state of your panties and all, it was probably okay to tell you how good I think you smell.”
My stomach goes into free fall and the previous incarnations of my soul begin to wail inside me, my mortification so complete even my past lives get involved.
“You listened to the voicemail,” I croak.
“I did.” His hand comes to rest on my hip before sliding slowly around to the small of my back, making the room spin. “And, for what it’s worth, I think it’s a bad idea.”
“So bad,” I agree, breathless and not entirely sure this isn’t a dream. I’ve had this dream before, the one where Christian and I are at the shelter after hours and he finally crosses that line I’ve been so desperate for him to cross. “You’re my employee. At least until you leave for your new job.”