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)
“There’s nothing to worry about. You’re going to be just fine. I’ll take good care of you.”
“Holy fuck,” she gushed, the pain in her leg temporarily forgotten. “You are kneeling here and just quoted Misery to me.”
For the briefest of moments his mask fell and, holy elephant balls, the man went from hot and sexy to something out of her stratosphere. The crinkle at the corners of his eyes. The slight upward tug on his lush mouth. And the way his eyes sparkled.
Then it was gone. He pushed up and gazed down at her. Before she could figure out what was going on, he retreated to the bathroom, only to return with stuff for her head.
She inched back to the headboard, his unflinching gaze remaining on her. Always aware of being a larger woman, she wanted to cover up. Normally confident in herself, comfortable with her size, this man’s gaze did something to her that set her out of her comfort zone. Like she’d been when she’d come face-to-face with sea turtle poachers in Nicaragua. Yet not in the same mind-numbing fear way, more like the what-do-I-do-about-this-situation way.
Mitchell checked her head injury again and propped up her knee.
“Try not to move it tonight.” He drew the blankets up to her waist.
“You are sleeping beside me.” Hope didn’t make it a question. “Because if I can’t sleep in a chair, neither can you.”
“You were in an accident.” His words were low and fierce.
She crossed her arms, glaring back as the snow and wind buffeted the window. “And you deserve a good night’s sleep. Don’t worry. I’m aware I’m not your type. This is about sleeping.”
He narrowed his gaze. “And if I refuse?”
Years of being belittled by supposed boyfriends and hearing the whispers of people who wanted to remind her she didn’t fit society’s ideal of beautiful had hardened her shell to the hurtful comments. But she wasn’t coated in Teflon. Making sure her face betrayed zero pain, she flipped back the blankets he had covered her with.
“I’ll go downstairs.”
He frowned. “Don’t move.”
She wasn’t going to budge on this. “Look, you rescued me. You are taking care of me and I appreciate it but I won’t take a bed from you.”
He covered her back up. “Are you always so hardheaded?”
“Are you?” She watched his face, expecting pure frustration, but what she saw was amusement.
“Does it work?”
She shrugged. He ducked in the bathroom and walked out in another pair of workout pants. Mouth as dry as the Atacama Desert, she struggled to find moisture.
“Well, does it?” He ran his fingers through his hair as he approached the bed.
She’d not thought this through. Hard bodied. Tattooed. God, she longed to explore him. This time, she made sure to keep her fingers clenched on the bedspread. Last time she got lost in her thoughts, she’d touched him like she had a right.
“Not sure. Never threatened a man to share a bed with me before.”
His arm flexed as he drew back one of the blankets. When he sat on the mattress, she held her breath.
I shouldn’t have pushed this.
What if she snored or farted in her sleep?
“I’m your first.”
Yeah, he was her first in a lot of ways. “Something like that.” She pulled the blankets up to her chin. “Good night.”
“Night, Flykra.”
What the hell did he call her? And why was she thinking that it sounded so nice rolling from his lips?
The bed dipped as he got in and got comfortable. Not much later his low, deep breathing let her know he’d fallen asleep.
She dozed and as soon as five a.m. hit, her eyes flew open and she bolted. With a degree in psychology, she could figure out her own reasons, but she didn’t want to analyze herself. Not now.
Definitely not in regards to the man whose bed she had run from.
Chapter Two
Warmth surrounded him and Mitchell burrowed closer. It was winter and he was not relishing the idea of getting out of the heat. He’d spent his professional career playing in California where it was sunny and warm. Where he didn’t have to deal with weather like this except at away games and the few times he’d come home to Rock Falls. Which hadn’t been often. Usually, he’d met his friends elsewhere.
Or he’d purchased a ticket for his sister to come to him.
Cold winters were fine but damn it, it was hard to get out of bed in the mornings. At least for him.
He opened his eyes, immediately realizing he wasn’t at home. Turning his head to look across the bed, he didn’t see anyone.
Memories of yesterday streamed in and he scowled. Where was Hope and how hadn’t he heard a damn thing when she got up?
He thought about the name he’d called her and his lips twitched as he recalled her expression. She hadn’t been sure if she should be offended or not. Snowflake. She shouldn’t be offended and he would forever think of her as one—unique, special.