Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
He grabbed a bottle in one hand and her ponytail in his other hand, yanking her back so he could shut the fridge door. She batted him away, and he chuckled.
“I just prefer it.” He unscrewed the cap, leaned back against the island and drank the whole bottle as Jersey studied him.
“Anything else?” Shane poked his head into the kitchen.
“No. Thanks, buddy. Go enjoy your family for a few days. We’ll be wheels up again before you know it.”
“Where’s Chris?” Jersey asked.
“Tossed his bag on the floor upstairs and collapsed onto the bed. Said he needed a nap.” Shane shrugged. “Later.”
Jersey’s gaze slid up to Ian’s face. He gave her the look he usually wore just before kissing her. That look made her heart race and her skin burn. She hated … truly hated that any man had that effect on her.
A look.
His spiced wood, mildly scented cologne.
Minty breath.
Hands that played a guitar and her body like they were made to do those exact jobs.
“Tomorrow Max is taking you to a couple of appointments.” He turned, ripping away that I’m-going-to-kiss-you look while making his way to the windows overlooking a swimming pool.
Ridiculous. The look she hated was gone, yet it angered her that he let it die as just a look. No kiss. She really needed to stop liking his mouth on hers so much.
“Appointments?”
“A physical and the eye doctor.”
“You want to know that I don’t have STDs, and you want to know that I can see your dick from across the room. Correct?”
“You should want to know that you don’t have STDs, and we already know you can see my dick from across the room.”
“You’re right. As I stand here in this very spot, I can definitely see a dick across the room.”
Ian turned, slipping his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. “You seem a little more … edgy, aggravated … confrontational than most days. Have I done something to upset you?”
Her focus shifted over his shoulder to the pool, and she shook her head. “I … I don’t know yet.”
“You don’t know yet if I’ve done something to upset you?”
She shrugged.
“When will you know?”
“When I do.” Her gaze returned to him.
“And you’ll tell me?”
“Oh …” She blew a quick breath out of her nose. “When I know, you’ll definitely know.”
“Can’t wait.”
Biting her lips between her teeth, she lifted her eyebrows and nodded several times.
“Hungry?”
Jersey grinned, jabbing her thumb behind her. “I just saw your fridge, Coop. I’m pretty sure I’m only allowed to be thirsty at your house.”
“There are nonperishable items in the pantry.” He pointed to a large cabinet door and opened it. A light automatically came on in the room lined with shelves of food, wine behind glass cabinets, a second sink, and a counter with a toaster and a coffee pot. “Chips? Nuts? Crackers?”
Her wide eyes surveyed the hidden room. “Where are the non … whatever things?”
Ian chuckled. “Nonperishable items?”
Jersey nodded.
“That’s what most of this is considered—nonperishable. Things that won’t spoil quickly.”
“Then why not just say that? Why try to make me feel stupid?”
Ian shook his head, forehead slightly wrinkled. “That’s not what I was doing.”
“Never mind. I’m not hungry.” She turned, marching out of the pantry. Snatching her bag, she stomped up the stairs.
“Jersey!”
She ignored Ian closing in on her. At the top of the stairs, Jersey spotted Chris sleeping on a bed in the room to her right. Before Ian reached the top step, Jersey slipped into the bedroom, closed the door, and locked it.
Swallowing back a jagged lump of emotion, she slid down the door, hugged her knees, and wiped one single tear.
One. She told herself that was all she got. One weak moment. One tear that no one else saw.
Did slaying monsters make her one too? Could monsters have the heart of a child? Were they born of this earth or born from circumstance? Did monsters forgive? Were they worthy of forgiveness?
The worst thing in Jersey’s life didn’t happen to her. It happened to two other people. It wasn’t a touch. It was two words.
They’re dead.
It didn’t leave a mark. It left a void.
“Come here.”
Jersey lifted her head. Chris hadn’t moved, but it was his voice. She climbed to her feet and slipped off her shoes. He opened his eyes and his arms. She settled onto the bed next to him, her back to his chest. Closing her eyes, she let time pause while he enveloped her in the arms she trusted to comfort her unspoken fears.
“Want to talk about it?”
Several hours later, Jersey woke to Chris’s voice in her ear. She pushed herself to sitting, letting her legs dangle from the bed for a few moments. “No,” she whispered, sliding to her feet.
Leaving Chris behind, she tiptoed down the stairs, drifting toward the rattle of paper and cabinet doors tapping in the kitchen. As she leaned her shoulder against the threshold, Ian glanced up from the grocery bags cluttering the island.