Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 129681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
His stride was long and purposed, easy, but still, there was a hint of harshness in his stance. I knew in that confidence the man was no stranger to hazard and jeopardy. He would strike in the face of danger, and his opponent was unlikely to make it out unscathed on the other side.
He disappeared through the double doors.
My pulse thudded and beat while I stood there waiting like a fool. I glanced at my phone again, cringing when I saw I still hadn’t received a word.
They’d be worried.
Hell, I was worried.
But if my calls weren’t going through, neither would theirs.
A minute later, Jud came striding back out, though he’d ditched his boots, and his feet were bare. He carried a stack of clothes and a towel.
“Not much, but at least you can grab a shower and get into something dry until the storm blows over. We’ll get your clothes into the dryer.”
A soft smile hitched his mouth as he moved my way.
My spirit flailed.
Sweet and intense and intimidating.
That combo promised he might be the most dangerous man I’d ever met.
This flirty charm that radiated from his being, sure to wrap every unsuspecting female around his fingers. Salivating for a taste of what he had to offer.
That shock of pitch-black hair on his head was wet, longer on top, sticking to the stony angles of his face.
His thick beard was the same color as his hair. A beard I had to fight the sudden urge to run my fingers through when he offered me the pile of fresh clothes.
The man was nothing but a tease and a trap.
“There you go.” He tipped his head toward the row of three doors on the opposite side of the room. “Guest room is third door on the left. Get yourself a shower.”
Our fingers touched when he passed me the stack. Shivers raced, a flashfire across my flesh.
He angled in, his voice so low and rough, “You need to get warmed up, darlin’. You’re cold.”
A fingertip trailed my wrist where a rash of chills lifted.
He eased back, those obsidian eyes sparking with mirth.
Jerk.
He knew exactly what he was doing to me. Still, I mumbled, “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, gorgeous. Like I said, make yourself at home. I’m going to grab a shower, too.”
I leaned down and twisted the stupid heels off my feet so I didn’t leave a trail of pockmarks on his floors. I dangled them from my fingers and clutched the pile of clothes in the other hand. I padded as quickly as I could across the floor in the direction of the door he had pointed to, feeling the warmth of his gaze on me the whole time.
This was insane, but truth be told, I was freezing, the trembling starting from deep within.
It didn’t help when the AC came on and started to pump cold air into the space.
At the doorway, I paused to peer back. The man remained across the room.
His stare intent. His being profound.
There was something about him that was so big and overwhelming, and it didn’t have a thing to do with his size.
No doubt, I should fear it, so I figured it was a big, big problem that I suddenly felt comfort under his watch. Safety in his refuge. Damned stupid.
I knew better than to trust anyone, and here I was in this stranger’s house, and not a soul knew where I was.
I tore myself from the hook of who he was and rushed the rest of the way into the bedroom. It was dark inside, and I shut the door, quick to lock it. I turned and rested against the door, struggling for a breath. To get myself under control. To shake myself out of whatever fantasy I felt like I might be falling into.
But there was something about tonight that made it feel like none of this was real.
Outside reality.
Because I didn’t do things like this. Was never so reckless. The last four years had been lived in complete caution. One foot moving and one eye over my shoulder. No room for mistakes or missteps.
But my brother had convinced me it was safe to come to this small town where he’d brought our grandmother to live three months ago.
Years had passed.
Years of running.
Years of barely existing.
He’d insisted it was time, and we couldn’t keep on the way we had.
My chest clutched, and I rocked my head back against the wood of the door.
God, I had to believe him. Had to cling to the hope of that truth.
Laughing off the confusion of it, I pushed from the door and moved to the en suite bathroom.
I flipped on the light.
It was every bit as ostentatious as the rest of the loft.
Exposed white brick walls with reclaimed wood floating counters that had been stained black. The fixtures were roughened gold, and the floors and the entire back wall behind the shower were a matrix of white and black. The shower was clear glass, open on one side with a rain shower hanging from the ceiling.