Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Lucky Thomas, I think as I flip five thick pancakes off the griddle. I'm on breakfast duty this morning and pancakes are my specialty. A large stack of them rests on the counter, along with crispy bacon, blueberries, and maple syrup.
It smells just like home.
Bryce inhales deeply from his spot at the end of the counter, and I know he’s thinking the same. We love Australia and have no intention of leaving, but we miss our Mom and Dad, and wish they were closer so we can see them more frequently.
Dawn and Thomas walk with relaxed strides and shy smiles tug at their mouths. Thomas is wearing the same shirt as last night, but it’s way more crumpled. Dawn is in a denim skirt, black tank and cute hot pink sneakers. Her hair is wet, so at least one of them is showered.
I think if I fucked Dawn last night, I’d want to leave her scent on me for as long as I could. That girl is smokin’.
"G’day," Thomas says, glancing around at the assembled group. For once, all of us have made it out of bed in time, probably assisted by the sex noises that started just before eight am and went on for an hour.
"Morning." "G’day." Eight deep voices boom in welcome accompanied by a few interested grins and a couple of frowns. Lachlan is worried about the Dawn-effect that’s sweeping Cloud 9 right now. He thinks that all the fucking is going to lead to bad blood. Maybe he’s right, but there’s no jealousy being expressed by the four men who’ve already shared her bed.
Maybe it’s a sign that Lachlan shouldn’t get involved, if Dawn gives him the chance, that is. Of all of us, he’s the one who likes to be in control. I think Dawn and her free way of living might give Lachlan an aneurysm.
"Morning," Dawn says, with a surprisingly shy glance around the room. Mitchell grins with a proud expression on his face, and Joshua and Jared raise their heads in greeting. It’s all very friendly and accepting. Weirdly so.
Interesting.
"Morning, darlin’," I say as she approaches the counter. "Help yourself."
"It smells just like home." Dawn says wistfully, eyeing the crispy bacon. She grabs a plate and heaps on two pancakes, four strips of bacon, a spoonful of blueberries and enough maple syrup to make it all glossy and sweet.
"I was just thinking the same thing," I say. "It’s my momma’s recipe."
"I’ll have to see if it’s as good as mine." She turns before I have a chance to reply and sits at the long table to the right, facing Lachlan. He shifts in his seat like her proximity makes him restless.
He wouldn’t be the only one feeling like that.
I’m not sure what it is about a sexually confident woman that gets under the skin of men. It’s like a dream come true to meet someone without hang ups, but at the same time, it’s a challenge to the natural order of things.
The stereotype of women not wanting sex as much as men exists for a reason. I’d guess that most women who aren’t that into fucking have had terrible lovers and bad experiences. When the sex is good, women can be as horny as men, sometimes even hornier. At least that’s my take on it.
As Dawn leans forward to eat, her large YOLO tattoo peeks out between her top and low-riding skirt. I’ve never seen anything like it on a girl. Mitchell has FOMO on his bicep but only because he was drunk, and young, and stupid. Mitchell claims Dawn got that on purpose because it’s her motto. I don’t want to make assumptions, but in my experience, people who live like there isn’t a tomorrow do so because they’re afraid of what the future might bring.
What could Dawn be afraid of? Something back home?
She’s made a long journey to be here, and maybe it’s just for new experiences. I can understand that way of thinking because that’s part of what drove Bryce and me to leave home behind. Seeing new things and meeting new people is exhilarating, and maybe that’s all it is. We also left because things were going wrong, and it was easier to move on than face the music.
It’s our experience that leaves a nagging doubt in my mind.
Dawn cried last night at a song Thomas was playing. Jared told me about it this morning. If there’s one thing you can be sure of in this place, it’s that information travels fast. Crying over music is a sure sign of some kind of trauma, but what?
Maybe Thomas knows something. He went to her room to make sure she wasn’t still upset, and he didn’t leave until the sun had risen. That gave him enough time to dig for the truth.