Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Until I awoke the next morning to the sound of something metal being thrown against the side of the house. I froze in place, suddenly demanding my sleep-fogged brain make sense of the noise. When I heard a muttered curse, I called out.
“B-bear?”
The rule was for me to stay in place or hide if I ever thought I was in danger. Bear or someone else on my team would come. Was that what this was?
“Zane? You awake?”
I moved to the edge of the bed and started to climb out. “Yeah? Did something happen?”
“You okay?” This time, his voice was close, just on the other side of my door. “Can I come in?”
I stood up and opened the door for him. He was dressed in workout clothes, his cheeks pink and his hair wind-blown like he’d just come back from a run. He didn’t look concerned, so I forced myself to chill. “What happened? It sounded like someone threw something at the house.”
The air was cold outside of my duvet cocoon, so I reached for a nearby sweatshirt to pull on over my pajama bottoms.
“No, shit. Sorry. That was me. I dropped a pan on the floor. I was…” He looked a little sheepish. “I was going to cook you that spinach breakfast casserole you like.”
I stared at him. “Gran’s breakfast casserole?”
He pressed his lips together and nodded before looking down at my bare feet. “I read an article last night that said spinach is good for your voice. It’s rich in nutrients like magnesium and potassium, which fosters healthy mucous membranes.”
That was what he’d been doing after he left me last night? My stomach filled with sassy little butterflies. “You worried about my voice, Bear?”
His eyes flicked up to mine and back down to the ground. “Sure. I mean, always. So, anyway, I got out the pan to brown the sausage, but then I remembered I… uh… don’t know how to cook.”
I swallowed the laughter that wanted to come barreling out.
This guy.
He was so freaking nice. He liked to act like a grumpy bear, but he wasn’t. Not at all.
I reached out and grabbed the hem of his shirt, yanking it so he had to stumble closer to me or risk ripping the shirt. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time.”
He stumbled toward me and put his hands on my hips to keep from knocking me over. I let out a breath of relief at having his hands on me again. “I didn’t actually do anything, though,” he admitted. “Maybe it’s the thought that counts?”
I nodded and stepped even closer until my chest brushed his. “Definitely. Besides, there’s still time for you to do it. I can show you how.”
His eyes came up to stare at my lips. “How’s your voice today? Sounds… okay?”
I grinned at him, borrowing confidence from the knowledge he would have never offered to make one of my favorite breakfasts if he didn’t still think well of me. “Dunno. Have a look and tell me if you see anything off.” I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out, leaning back to expose my throat to him as provocatively as I could.
Just as I noticed his eyes widening in surprise, the horrifying thought occurred to me that, despite a thorough toothbrushing job last night, I might have post-horseradish death mouth.
I snapped my teeth closed without remembering to pull my tongue back in first and then yelped and clapped my hands in front of my face. Tears sprang to my eyes as the pain registered. Poor Bear’s face fell as he realized what had happened.
“Zane!”
“I’m okay,” I tried to say. “Not that bad.”
He shuffled me into the bathroom and sat me down on the back of the toilet seat while he filled a cup with cold water from the tap. I couldn’t help but stare at the bulge in his running tights since it was right there at eye level.
“Here. Let the cold water sit on your tongue and see if it helps.”
It did. But so did the eye candy. When I finally recovered, I tried to act like the incident was no big deal. “You ready for your cooking lesson?”
Bear tried to hide a smile but failed. “Nice try. Show me your tongue.”
I glared at him. “Unnecessary. I’m fine.”
His eyes narrowed at the word. “Fine. You? Seems unusual. Tongue. Now.”
I ran my tongue along my teeth to check for tender spots. Thankfully, the damage was minimal, but I wasn’t about to open my mouth at him, just in case I’d also be unleashing morning-after Secret Sauce dragon breath. “Back away,” I said with one hand covering my mouth and the other making a “shoo” motion.
He put his hands up and backed away a few paces. I moved to the sink and brushed my teeth for a solid five minutes before wiping my mouth and presenting him with my tongue. “Fee? Fime,” I said around my tongue.