Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 116760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“I don’t know what happened. I don’t have a problem with heights. And I don’t usually get motion sickness.”
“Maybe a drop in blood pressure,” the instructor said, oh so helpfully. He reached out to take her pulse, but Corbin reached out and snatched her hand away.
Both of them stared at him in shock. He grimaced but didn’t let her go.
“I’ve got her. I have medical training.”
Not exactly. But his first aid certificate was up-to-date. And he didn’t trust this guy to know what he was doing.
The instructor just nodded. “Possessive, huh? I get it.” He walked away.
She stared at Corbin with wide eyes. “What was that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Um, why did you just snatch my hand out of his hold like he was gonna hurt me or something?”
“I just think I know what I’m doing more than he does. Now, quiet.”
Her pulse was a bit fast but nothing dangerous. There was color coming back into her cheeks, which was good.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Like an idiot who got dizzy just because she jumped out of a plane.”
“There’s nothing idiotic about that,” he told her fiercely. “You need a drink with electrolytes, though. Something to help with your blood pressure, then you’re going home to rest.”
“You got it, boss.” She saluted him.
He hadn’t forgotten that she’d done that to Hayes earlier in the day when he was being bossy.
“You best watch that sassiness doesn’t get you into trouble.”
“Hey, I’m counting on it.” She grinned at him.
7
God, she was tired.
That skydive had been something else. She’d nearly pulled out, and only her sheer stubbornness had pushed her to go through with it.
In hindsight, maybe she should have listened to the voice in her head screaming at her to keep her feet firmly on the ground.
Yeah, that voice was smart.
Unlike Bebe.
And now she was feeling exhausted and vulnerable in front of two strangers. What was her dad thinking? Did he really believe she was in danger?
Bebe hated to think what two bodyguards for a month was costing him. But she was guessing with that money that she’d be able to renovate her kitchen and still have change.
When they reached her house, she forced herself to pretend everything was fine when she really wanted to crawl into bed and not come out for about a month.
Her right hand was trembling slightly. She knew that Corbin had noticed her wince earlier when he’d shaken it.
This was why having people live with her wasn’t smart.
Especially when they had more loyalty to her parents than her.
Urgh. Why did she agree to this?
Because if you hadn’t your dad would have canceled this tour.
And she wouldn’t have forgiven herself if he’d had to do that.
So now she had to have two strange men in her tiny house, which was in desperate need of a complete makeover.
Oh well, maybe they’d decide they couldn’t stay here and quit.
That would make her . . . a bit sad if she was honest.
Shoot. Was she so lonely she’d rather have two strangers in her house than be alone?
Bebe forced her tired butt up the stairs and unlocked her front door. She walked inside and they followed; each of them carrying a backpack and a large duffel bag.
She really didn’t think that looked like enough stuff for four weeks.
But, hey . . . what did she know?
“Welcome!” she said cheerfully as she turned to take in their faces. “Make yourselves at home. My house is your house. Do you want the grand tour?”
“Grand tour?” Hayes asked, stepping over the power saw she had in the hallway. She’d been cutting baseboards for the living room. And she probably should have cleaned up a bit better. “This place is . . . it’s . . .”
“A construction zone?” Corbin offered. “Are you sure it’s safe to live here while contractors work on your house? What about health and safety?”
“Ahh, well, I checked with the health and safety officer and they said it’s fine,” she said as she turned and walked into the kitchen.
She hadn’t attempted to tackle the kitchen yet. It was just too intimidating right now. And she thought she might need some help with it.
Actual, professional help.
Maybe.
“Who the heck is in charge of health and safety?” Hayes asked as he stepped into the kitchen.
It wasn’t original, thankfully, since the house had been built in 1922. But the kitchen had been updated sometime in the sixties . . . she thought.
The cabinets were this odd orange-red color and the countertop, which had once been white, was now turning a kind of brownish-creamish color. The oven had been updated in the sixties, too, and surprisingly, it still worked. Not that she could actually cook. There was no dishwasher, only a tiny space for a fridge, and the cold water didn’t work very well.
Hot worked great, though.