Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
But Indi was completely innocent, and that made me really fucking nervous. Besides Kennedy doing the security install, I’d get him working for intel, too.
“What are you doing in here?” Indi’s voice wavered, starting off bold but dropping a little when she saw what I was looking at. Yeah, she knew she was in fucking trouble. Poking around in shit she shouldn’t. She stood in nothing but a goddamn towel, which didn’t help with my unbrotherly feelings or my brain processing since my blood was moving south to my dick. Why was she always barely dressed and dripping wet?
I gritted my teeth.
“What the hell is this?” I pointed at the board.
“Nothing.” She stomped into the room, then faltered when she turned to the dresser and was reminded her clothing wouldn’t be easy to find.
If I were a gentleman, I’d leave, so she could get dressed.
I usually was a gentleman, but not in this case. Indi wasn’t a lady, she was… Indigo, the bright, familiar, gorgeous sister of my dead best friend. One who was smart enough to know that nothing about Buck’s death rang true. Because she had a fucking bulletin board about it.
It wasn’t safe for her to be looking into this. Not at all. Not when two people had already been killed, not that I was going to tell her that.
“What is this about?” I asked gruffly. I didn’t like it. She shouldn't be nosing around in it–whatever was going on was big. And dangerous.
She was a wilderness guide who’d barely left the state. She had zero clue. I wanted to spank her ass for endangering herself and protect her at the same time. The only place I knew she was truly safe was in my arms. Keeping her out of them was now impossible.
Someone had broken into her house. She was snooping into shit she had no idea how dangerous it really was. Hell, I didn’t either.
“It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing there. I made it because I needed to understand, but there’s nothing to figure out. It’s all a dead end.” She put her hands on her hips, which was a big mistake because the fucking towel flapped open.
I didn’t know why I rushed to help her with it. With a damned yellow towel. She didn’t need me closer. She needed me farther away. Out of her bedroom.
You touch Indigo, and I will cut your nuts off.
That had been Buck’s warning to me after he’d caught us in my room that night.
But here I was, one hand on each corner of the towel, pulling it open to make the terry cloth taut.
“Ford.” Indi’s startled gaze locked onto mine. Her full lips parted in surprise. I quickly wrapped the towel back around her and tucked the edges, my fingers brushing over her damp skin just above her breasts.
Not quickly enough, though.
I’d had the misfortune of seeing all of Indi’s glorious and fully naked form before I managed to get her covered again. Except, who was I kidding? There was no universe where seeing Indigo Buchanan naked could be considered a misfortune.
My throbbing dick was a testament to that fact.
I’d wanted her when she was eighteen. Lusted after her hot body. Even with a second’s glance, I’d just seen she was still perfect. Her hips had filled out. So had her tits. All woman.
“Sorry,” I said gruffly, not meaning a fucking syllable. But I didn’t let go. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I couldn’t seem to step back. Couldn’t seem to relinquish control of her towel. Or hide my heated gaze. Maybe it was the strawberry scent of her shampoo.
“Don’t—” She licked her lips and glanced at my shirt, at the floor. “Don’t pretend you find me attractive. We both know it’s not true.”
I stilled. Processed. What the actual fuck?
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” My eyes popped wide. “Is that what you think? Seriously?”
She tried to pull back, and I was an even bigger asshole because I kept my fingers curled into the top of her towel. The soft swells of her breasts were against my knuckles.
There was no way I was letting her go now. Not until she knew exactly how far from the truth that statement was.
“Indigo, are you nuts?”
Her nostrils flared like she was about to get pissed off again, but this time I didn’t encourage it. This time I saw the hurt behind her anger, and it seemed important that I correct her notion.
“You’ve been a goddamn torment to me,” I blurted.
She went still and finally lifted her chin, her blue eyes wide on mine.
I saw into them. All the hurt. All the sadness. All the desire.
“You’re… That night… Of course, I find you—” Fuck it. I was never great with words. I had to show her. Make her believe.