Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
“Close enough to keep you from complaining,” I tease, poking him in the nose.
He snaps his teeth at me with a mock-growl that seems more feral.
I think it’s because he’s grown his scruff out into a proper thick beard since winter, making him look more rugged and sinfully handsome than ever.
Or maybe I’m just swooning that hard for this man.
Everything he does makes me love him a little more.
Well.
Not everything.
If he leaves the toilet seat up one more time, I might scream loud enough to burst his eardrums.
But considering that’s one of the only things I’ve had to complain about over the past few months of normalcy in Redhaven...
Yeah. I’d say things have turned out pretty sweet after all.
Life has calmed down tremendously.
No creepy stalkers. No more dead bodies.
I rarely see the Jacobins in town ever since the big dustup, and neither does anyone else. The Arrendells either avoid me like the plague or talk to me with such strained courtesy you’d think I was royalty.
I’m good with that.
They can stay away. Far, far away.
Sure, they still sign my paychecks at the school.
But I look at that as the town paying me, not them. And this town has given me a mountain of goodness to be grateful for, now that I’m really settled in.
Wonderful classes full of bright, eager students.
An amazing friend in Nora. Not to mention Janelle, who knew nothing about Ulysses’ true intentions and was horrified for accidentally delivering me into his hands.
A happy life settling in with Lucas.
Oh, and Lucas himself.
Those spring-green eyes always look at me with such wild adoration. Like I’m something precious he would never dream of throwing away.
He’s looking at me that way now as we make our way to the camp—a common spot for hikers with a cleared fire pit, good flat areas to set up tents, and lots of old logs to sit on.
Together we wrangle up the kids and turn them loose so they can help us set up. Lucas handles the tents with a little help from me when I’m not chasing rug rats down.
He’s technically here in an official capacity as the police department chaperone, but it’s nice having him along to do the heavy lifting, too.
It’s also nice that every time I glance up from anchoring another tent post in the ground, he’s just watching me.
Always with this lopsided half smile like he’s still trying to figure out how exactly we happened.
The heat in his eyes speaks so much louder.
It says he doesn’t know, but he doesn’t mind one bit.
That goes double for me.
I keep catching myself smiling back shyly as long as I can before another little hand pulls me away.
It’s a total circus, getting these mini monsters settled and then prepping dinner.
It’s grilled cheese toasted over the fire tonight, and then roasted marshmallows for dessert.
There are oohs and ahhs and excited chatter when I break out the s’mores.
Good thing we remembered wet wipes to take care of all the chocolate-smeared fingers and faces.
When we settle in for story time, I’m not sure if we should be telling ghost stories, but the kids insist.
They wind up shrieking themselves silly when Lucas holds a flashlight up to his face and tells them the story of a monster in the lake. I struggle not to laugh.
Still Lake isn’t big enough for monsters. Not even the Loch Ness kind.
And now, neither is my life as long as I’m with him.
Even if a few of the kids look nervous, by the time Lucas finishes his story, half of them are nodding off. While I gather them up to usher them to their tents, Lucas bends to kiss my cheek.
“Just gonna go do a quick check for things that go bump in the night,” he says, gripping his flashlight. “Stomp around a bit. Scare off any cougars.”
“Cougars?” little Nickie Spelman mumbles as I lift him up into my arms.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “You’re too big for any cougar snack.”
Lucas chuckles and slips off into the woods while I get the kids settled. He’s still not back by the time I tuck the last munchkin in with a promise the scary lake monster won’t get her while she sleeps.
So I linger by the fire for a bit before I retreat to our shared tent, stretching and rolling my shoulders. I lean down to rub calves sore from hiking so many steep inclines.
A silhouette against the tent wall warns me just before Lucas ducks in. “Hey. Think you can leave the rug rats for five minutes? Something I wanna show you.”
I chew my lower lip, frowning. “Is it far?”
“All in earshot and still in view. If anything happens, we’ll be back in two steps. I promise.” He offers me a warm, inviting hand and the biggest grin.
God, it’s so nice to see this bear of a man smile.