Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
I speak to him in what I hope is a cheerful tone. “In good news, the storm knocked down tons of fruit. I carried a bunch back to the shelter.”
He nods. “Good girl,” he says approvingly. My chest warms a little. I like it when he calls me that. I like the approval.
“Do you think after the storm is a good time to fish?”
“It’s an excellent time to fish.” He pushes himself to his feet. “Let’s get some food while we can and get some water. Tonight, when the sun begins to set, we’ll pull some fish in.”
He uses the term “we” like I’ll have anything to do with smelly fish. I’m all about making soup or getting the greens and fruit, but I would rather never eat another fish than actually have to catch the things.
He looks at me with concern. “I was just going to clean my arm then head straight back to you. But you found me first.” He looks me up and down as if he’s just seeing me, then levels me with his hard gaze. “Why did you change?”
“I got soaked.”
He frowns, giving me a stern, reproving look. “I told you to stay inside. Did you go out in the storm after I told you not to?”
His tone holds a corrective edge that makes my pulse quicken. I shake my head. But a part of me wonders if I should tell him I did. Give him a reason to go all alpha on me. Maybe it would restore some of his energy, and wipe away that forlorn look in his eyes, and maybe— aw, hell. Maybe I like when he does. Maybe I feel special and protected when he shows concern. And hell, maybe I need this.
“No. I just stood in the doorway and yelled for you.”
It sounds so silly now, like a little lost puppy pining away with her nose pressed to the windowpane.
“I’m sorry I took off so fast,” he says.
“Don’t be. It makes sense that you’d want to try to catch them.”
He stands and takes my hand, and we walk hand in hand to the beach. I’m glad to see after he’s washed the cut on his arm it isn’t as bad as it first appeared. Mostly superficial.
“Do you think that other guy survived that?”
He shrugs. “No idea. Hope not.”
We walk in silence back to the shelter. Earlier today, I wanted to swim. Now it’s the furthest thing from my mind.
It seemed at first that this was a sort of paradise. But between the uncertainty of what lies ahead, and the dangers we face, it feels so much more like a prison.
We head to the watering hole, but before we get there, I hear something. I pause and hold a finger up to my mouth.
His brow furrows and he looks ahead of us. But we see nothing.
“What was it?”
I shake my head. “I wondered if it was the other guy.”
“This would be a good place to stake him out,” he says. “Unless he’s already transported enough water to wherever he is.”
But he’s out there somewhere. We both know it. We hear nothing after a few minutes of silence.
“No damage to the shelter?” he asks, after we get some water. I shake my head.
“One time, we had a storm and it leveled the shelter. It was a bitch reconstructing. I suspected we wouldn’t have that issue this time, because the eye of the storm was further out to sea.” His jaw tightens. “I shouldn’t have left you.”
“Look, I appreciate the sentiment and all, but I’m glad you tried. I mean, we would’ve wondered if we made a mistake if you hadn’t, right?”
He looks at me silently, holding my gaze for long minutes. “And just when I think I’m in hell, you’re sent to me,” he says. He turns around and reaches for my hand, tugging me close to him before drawing his fingertip down my cheek to my chin. “I love that you have an attitude like that. You’re a good girl, Harper.”
“I’m a woman,” I protest in a whisper, because I don’t trust my voice. I swallow hard. I want to kiss him so badly I can taste it.
“You sure as hell are,” he says with a lascivious grin. “But when you’re with me, you’re my girl.”
And how could I not love that? Maybe I should protest, but I don’t know if I want to.
Then he’s bending down and brushing his lips to mine. So tender. So gently, it feels like the flutter of butterfly wings at first. With a sigh, he pulls me tighter to him, cups my jaw, and intensifies the kiss.
His rugged whiskers tickle my skin, his lips softer and gentler.
I’m so grateful to have him back, at first, I let him take this kiss. I surrender to this moment. I give it to him freely.