Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 187754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 939(@200wpm)___ 751(@250wpm)___ 626(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 187754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 939(@200wpm)___ 751(@250wpm)___ 626(@300wpm)
Thorin’s chuckle is quiet, and then he kisses my nape before whispering in my ear, “Next time you need warming up, you know where to find me, wolf.”
Thorin leaves, and not a moment too soon. My nipples are already hard, aching points against the cotton of Seth’s T-shirt, and if Thorin had ordered me to my knees, I wouldn’t have refused him.
An hour later, a happy squeal leaves my lips when I lift the roasting pan and see the perfectly golden dome underneath. All of my other attempts had left me with an overcooked lump sunken in the middle, but I’d finally perfected the temperature.
Removing the bread from the trivets on the stovetop, I set the baking pan on a separate rack to cool while I carry the platters of eggs, bacon, and fried apples to the table, where my mountain men are already seated.
“I don’t get you three,” I say with a huff as I place their breakfast in front of them. “You have power. Why not make life easier and get modern appliances, too? Maybe a real stove? Or a TV?”
“We thought about it,” Khalil says from the head of the table. He snatches a strip of bacon from the platter as soon as it touches the table. “It’s the reason we went solar.”
“And?”
“We didn’t do it,” he says around a mouthful of bacon.
“Yes, I can see that. Care to share why?”
The three of them are quiet while they help themselves to the food that—even if I do say so myself—looks at least edible today. They still haven’t answered by the time I take my seat between Khalil and Thorin and across from Seth.
I’m wrestling between pressing the issue and shrugging it off when Seth says, “They were afraid of getting too comfortable.”
“And it’s a pain in the ass getting shit up the mountain,” Thorin grumbles.
“Oh, speaking of which, you’re out of eggs, flour, salt, and yeast.”
Thorin pauses, filling his plate with a lift of his brow. “You mean all the things you used to make that bread?”
“No.” I roll my eyes and pretend I don’t feel their scrutiny. All three of them are watching me closely right now. “You don’t need eggs for bread.”
“Hmm.”
“Guess you’re going to have to make a store run.”
“Guess so,” Seth answers tightly.
Before I can examine Seth’s souring mood, Khalil places the plate he’s filled with food in front of me. I watch a little dumbfounded as he wordlessly grabs the pitcher of water and pours me a glass.
“I—thank you.” Our gazes meet, and I look away like a coward. My attention shifts to my plate that’s piled with more food than I can eat.
“Thanks for making breakfast,” Khalil returns smoothly despite my need to make shit awkward for no reason. “It looks good.”
I scoff. “You don’t have to lie.”
See? There I go again. Awkward.
Khalil nudges my foot under the table, and my gaze flies up to meet his. “I wasn’t.”
I feel my cheeks warm, but this time, I don’t look away. I go for inappropriate humor instead. “I’m impressed, Poverly. We’re a long way from grunting and growling, and you woman, we men, make food.”
“I do not sound like that.”
“You all sound exactly like that.”
Thorin grunts in amusement or annoyance. It’s hard to tell, but it proves my point, and that’s all I care about. I keep my smug gaze on Khalil, who sucks his teeth and scowls at Thorin.
“My God. I could write a book,” I muse aloud. “Are bodice rippers still a thing?”
“You’re awfully chatty this morning,” Thorin retorts.
My head swings his way. “Are you telling me to shut up, Thayer?”
“And piss you off? No, my wolf. I know better.”
Just to really annoy them, I start testing out potential titles. “Winter’s Burn. This Twisted Eden. The Savages Surrender. Ooh, I like that one. The Captive Who Loved Them. What do you think, Seth?”
My eyes fall on him, expecting to see him still glowering at his empty plate for some unknown reason, but he’s staring at me now through wide eyes with his mouth open.
It’s not until I see Thorin and Khalil wearing similar expressions that I realize my blunder.
I said I fucking loved them. At the very least, I alluded to it. Is that how I feel? No, it can’t be. They’re savages, and I’m soulless. We’re a match made in hell, but woefully uncapable of love.
“A-a-actually, I think I will shut up now.”
“Why would you do that?” Khalil purrs as he sits back in his seat with an arrogant twist of his lips. “You were just getting to the part where you apparently love us?”
I stare down at my plate. “Can we just forget I said that?”
“No, I don’t think we can,” Seth answers smugly.
“And I don’t think our story classifies as romance, do you? Maybe a case study for Stockholm syndrome, but that’s the best I can do.”