Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Roque, at this point, was fully shaking with suppressed laughter.
“As soon as this storm’s over,” Dad continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “you’re going to call the asshole that convinced you that house was okay and—”
I sighed, tuning him out as Roque finally lost the battle with his amusement, yanking his hoodie over his face to muffle the snort that escaped.
“Do I make myself clear?” Dad demanded.
I cleared my throat, pretending I hadn’t just spaced out. “Um… if I can remember the name of the person who did it, I’ll get right on that.”
There was silence followed by a choking noise that made me wince.
“At least tell me you’re insured,” he asked, exasperation clear in his voice.
That I was pretty sure about. “I’m fairly certain that’s true,” I hedged.
There was a beat of silence, and then— “Fairly certain?” Dad and Roque echoed simultaneously, one in disbelief, the other in sheer amusement.
“I mean, I submitted all the forms for it. I… well, I don’t have the policy number right now. Does that still count?”
Roque let out a low chuckle, muttering under his breath, “And you better make sure it covers houses with no conveyancing reports…”
Of course, Dad heard him.
“Jesus Christ, Sayla,” he groaned, and I could picture him rubbing the spot between his eyes like he always did when he was tired or fed up. “As soon as this shit stops falling from the sky, I’m coming over to see what’s happened. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think?”
I wasn’t so sure about that.
“Do you want me to see if Cash can make it there through the snow?” he asked, clearly already planning for backup.
While not entirely insufferable, my brother was definitely not someone I wanted in the middle of this mess right now. Sure, he knew his way around home repairs, but did I really want him to add his opinion to this disaster?
I hesitated, weighing my options.
“No,” I said finally. “It’s too dangerous. I’ll meet you at the house as soon as the snow stops falling.”
Dad sighed, clearly not happy with my answer but accepting it nonetheless. “Fine, stay out of trouble, okay?”
I glanced down at my legs, still very much trapped in snow, and sighed.
Yeah, that ship had already sailed.
With a frustrated huff, I started digging myself out of the snow, cursing whoever had come up with the brilliant idea of mittens.
Useless. Completely, utterly useless.
Who the hell thought it was a good idea to trap fingers together like some hand prison? How was I supposed to do anything when I couldn’t separate them to get some leverage?
I groaned, shaking my head as I tried again, my mittens slipping uselessly against the snow. I couldn’t even get a proper grip.
Damn whoever invented these ridiculous things. And damn me for buying them.
Why had I thought they were a good idea? Oh, they’re warm, Sayla, you’ll love them, I had told myself. They’re cute and cozy.
Yeah, cozy didn’t mean functional, and right now, I needed functional.
Before I could get too far in my mitten-related rage, a shadow loomed over me, and a deep voice drawled, “You planning on making a snow angel, or do you need some help?”
I glared up at Roque, my breath coming out in a frosty puff. “Oh, I’m just peachy. Thought I’d take a little break while half my body is stuck in a frozen grave.”
His mouth twitched, amusement flashing in his eyes. “Right. That’s what it looked like.”
Before I could make another smartass remark, he crouched down and grabbed me by the arms, his hands firm and warm even through my thick jacket. With surprising ease, he freed one of my legs, then the other, his grip steady as he pulled me upright.
“See?” He smirked. “Nothing to it.”
I wobbled slightly, still getting my balance, when he reached out and started patting the snow off me. His hands brushed over my coat, knocking the clumps loose, moving lower until his palm landed on my ass. And lingered.
Heat shot through me, unexpected and sharp, my breath catching in my throat. His touch was firm and deliberate, and his fingers flexed slightly before—
The sound of paws scraping against wood caught both of our attention.
The screened porch door swung open, and in a blur of fur and energy, Roque’s dogs came barreling out, tongues lolling, eyes bright with excitement.
“Oh, shit,” Roque muttered.
That was all the warning I got before they were on me.
A solid, happy mass of muscle and fur collided with my legs, sending me stumbling backward. Roque barely had time to react before gravity took over, and suddenly, I was falling right back into the snow with Roque on top of me.
A heavy oof escaped me as I landed flat on my back, snow spraying around us. Roque’s weight pressed into me, his body flush against mine, his face so close I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin. For a moment, neither of us moved.