Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
She stretched out on the mattress, making sure to burrow under the blankets. “This storm will be over soon and we can go our separate ways. I was only asking because I was curious, but I get it. I’ll keep my thoughts and questions to myself. Good night.”
With that, she turned and gave him her back. The wall slammed up between them and he hated it. Wanted to tear it down and bring her joy and warmth into his life again.
“Hope.” He reached out and hesitated just shy of touching her.
She didn’t even move. Neither did he, not until she began to snore lightly. Only then did he get up from the bed, shut off the light, and sit at the table he’d been working at, using the firelight to help him make it there without injuring himself.
Putting in his earbuds once he saw there was a signal, weak but there, he pressed a number on his phone and waited.
“What’s going on, man? Everything okay?” Tully’s voice held no trace of sleep.
“No.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “It’s not.”
“Give me a second. Get Linc on the line.”
He added his friend and within two minutes, they were all on the call.
“Mitchell?” Linc’s tone was concerned.
“Do you two think I’m shallow?” He made sure to keep his voice pitched low to avoid waking the woman sleeping in the bed he wanted to be in with her.
They were silent before they both answered as one. “Yes.”
“Fuck you both. What are you talking about?”
“Your mother is one of the shallowest people in the world. She did a number on you, so yes, you are.”
“Your mother raised me more than Vera did, Tully. And Linc’s father. How the hell am I shallow?”
“Women shouldn’t be more than a size two—on rare occasions a four could be pulled off, but she would need to be on a diet. Never have one in double digits.” Linc’s recounting of words his mother had drilled into him since he could remember soured his gut.
“This woman, Hope,” Tully began. “She’s nothing like what your mother deems to be a proper woman for you, is she?”
He looked over to the huddled woman sleeping. “No, she’s not. But I can tell you what she is.”
They waited.
“She’s fucking perfect.”
…
Hope woke tangled in Mitchell’s arms. And his legs. Where the pillow wall had vanished to, she couldn’t begin to say.
And damn her for enjoying how the hard wall of muscle was pressed against her. Even if all it did was remind her how out of her league this man was. Right now, it didn’t fucking matter. Her hands were up under his shirt, palms pressed to his back. They eagerly soaked up the man’s warmth and he was a goddamn heater. One of her legs sat wedged between his and he had his up and draped over her hip, locking her to him. The most intimate part of his body pressed hard into her. His palms were on her back and ass, like he couldn’t bear to keep distance between them.
If only that were the truth.
As comfortable as it was, and however nice, her bladder wasn’t anything to ignore. Even so, she didn’t rush to untangle their bodies.
I don’t want him to wake.
Whatever the excuse she wanted to go with, the end result remained the same. Her moving at a slow pace. Almost free, Mitchell shifted and brought her right up to his chest. The hand that had been on her back slipped up to cup the nape of her neck as the one on her ass brought her tighter to him, allowing her to feel his substantial erection.
“Flykra,” he moaned into her hair.
She longed to know what that meant, but she also refused to be a sympathy fuck. Or a notch on his bedpost.
It’s probably a pet name he calls all the women he meets so he doesn’t have to remember their names.
Marshaling some fortitude, she began again to untangle their bodies. This time, she got away, went to the bathroom, and then snuck downstairs.
In the kitchen, helping Naomi with breakfast again, she thought about his question last night. That surely someone would be missing her. Maybe at one time there would have been but seeing as she’d stood over his grave as they’d buried him, she could confidently say there wasn’t anymore. And the only other person who would, João, didn’t even know she was up here because he was out on his own assignment and she’d not spoken to him in months. Not that they didn’t communicate, he was basically her best friend, but when he was out on assignment, he went radio silent, so she didn’t expect to hear from him until after he was supposed to be home. She had her editor but wasn’t expecting to speak with her for a while yet. Her job was a solitary one and all her speaking engagements weren’t for months yet. There was no reason for a single person in her life to be concerned with her wellbeing.