Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“Me, too,” I say with a laugh. I look out the door. From here, I can see the very top of the large windows in the living room. “But at least we’re safe now.”
“Yeah,” she says. “Did Liam get in touch with the police?”
“Yeah. He’ll fill us in later. There were no fire alarms or extinguishers like there were supposed to be in the hallway, and I bet we haven’t heard the end of this. They’re likely going to condemn the building. But we’ll see.”
“Oh, wow,” she says. “Where do people… go… and stuff? Will we be able to get our things?”
“I don’t know where people will go, but the city has many shelters, and most people will likely stay with friends or relatives for now. As for our things, yes, we’ll be able to fetch them sometime this weekend, I’m guessing.”
“I didn’t start that fire, Cora,” she says. It isn’t until she states it that I even realize she feared that.
“You didn’t. They’re still investigating, but it was very clearly faulty lines in the stove that caused that fire.” The reality of what could’ve happened hits me in the chest, and my eyes fill with tears. “I’m just so glad you guys are okay,” I tell her, brushing her hair off her forehead gently.
“Me, too,” she whispers. “But are you?”
Am I? God, I have no idea.
“I’m fine, honey,” I lie. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Hmm,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “You get to share a bed with Liam. In his penthouse. And he looks at you like he’s found buried treasure and he’s just opened up the chest.” Bailey laughs. “There are worse things in life.”
I huff out a laugh but don’t reply.
Does he?
“Get some sleep,” I tell her.
She gets a shit-eating grin and wiggles her eyebrows at me. “You too.” I groan and shut the door behind me. When I stand at the top of the stairs, Ben and Bailey safe behind me because of Liam, my emotions stir deep inside me. He’s a good man. God, he’s such a good man. And though I’ve only just begun to get to know him, every time I reveal another layer, I think I love him a little more.
“Cora,” he calls in a playful tone when he sees me at the top of the stairs. “Are you gonna get your ass down here, or what?”
Biting my lip, I nod my head and go to him. When I first met this man, I couldn’t imagine he had a playful side, but the way he calls to me it’s as if he’s beckoning me to come out and play.
I take a look at those huge windows, and for a moment, imagine what we could do in front of them. He sits on the couch, and hell if I don’t love that disheveled look of his.
When his eyes take me in, I don’t even try to hide the fact I’m staring at him, too. The way the fire flickers on his handsome features. His glass is empty, but he still holds it between his fingers, his eyes dancing with firelight. The knowing smirk he gives me tells me he’s mentally undressing me, and hell, I’m okay with that. I agreed to this. And after tonight, I’m eager. But when I reach him, he just puts his wine glass down and reaches for me.
“Come here,” says, his voice low and raspy in the quiet. “Want to get some sleep, sweetheart?”
“Well,” I tell him. “Yes. But not until I’ve thanked you.”
“Don’t be silly,” he says, dragging me onto his lap. “It was the least I could do.”
A few weeks ago, I’d have protested sitting on his lap, but the first time I told him I was too heavy, he put a decided end to that by putting me belly-down over his lap. And now, I’ve grown used to how nice it feels sitting like a little girl like this on his lap. I lay my head on his chest and play with the top button on his shirt.
“Well, I mean, I guess,” I tell him. “But you were under no obligation to take us all to your home. And I want to thank you.”
Leaning down, he lifts my chin with the tip of his finger, then brushes his lips against mine before he drags them to my cheek and kisses me there, then my temple and forehead, so reverently it’s like an act of worship.
“Do you?” he asks. “What exactly might that thank you entail?”
My body is already heating from being so close to the man who’s commanded my body through pleasure and pain these past weeks, grows molten. I love being close to him like this, getting lost to the intimacy of our nearness. The rapid beating of his pulse. His signature scent, earthy and masculine like the burning embers of a fire in winter. The rasp of his voice and brush of his lips. Every detail strips away what’s on my mind until I find the peace that comes in this closeness while my heart beats faster.