Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
“I can’t believe you got him to do all this,” Alina says as we sit at the table. “We’re going to make a hell of a team.”
We each grab a triangle sandwich and cheers with it.
I’m wondering how Tucker is doing as Alina starts going on about Sebastian again. She talks about him a lot. I think she’s a little obsessed.
I’m happy for her, but it can be a bit much. Especially considering my love life is non-existent. I’ve had options, but… I don’t know. I just never felt that spark with anyone before. The kind of intense spark that Alina has for Sebastian.
We finish the lunch and then clean up the dishes.
“Let’s head back to the office for the rest of the day,” Alina says as she closes the dishwasher. “I want to start setting up some interviews for our crew.”
“Okay,” I say as I glance at the stairs. “I just want to…”
“What?”
“Say thank you. For the lunch.”
Her jaw drops. “You want to go up there? Are you crazy?”
“No,” I quickly say. “I just want to say thank you.”
Her face twists into a slow smile like something is dawning on her. “Oh, I see. You like him.”
“What?! No.”
“Sure,” she says with a laugh. “I’ll go wait in the car. Take your time.”
“It’s just a thank you. It’s proper manners.”
“Whatever you say,” Alina says with a giggle as she heads to the front door.
I shake my head, take a deep breath, and walk to the stairs.
Is this a bad idea?
Probably, but my feet start moving up the stairs like they have a mind of their own.
My heart is pounding as I reach the hallway, stop, and try to listen. I don’t hear anything.
“Tucker?” I call out. Still no answer.
I start to get worried. His injuries did look pretty serious. Maybe something happened. Maybe he needs my help.
I head down the hall and peek into the master bedroom. It’s more furnished than the rest of the rooms with a dresser, a fireplace, and a giant bed with messy gray sheets. Jeez, is everything gray with this guy? This house desperately needs a pop of color.
“Tucker?”
The light in his ensuite bathroom is on. I really shouldn’t be in here, but I have to see if he’s okay. What if he slipped into a coma or something? I would feel horrible if something happened and I just left without helping.
I push the door open and walk to the bathroom.
“Tucker?” I say as I look in. “Are you okay?”
He’s lying in the bath with headphones in his ears. My brain tells me to leave, but my body keeps me rooted to the spot. I can’t take my eyes off him.
He looks comically large in that tub. His big hairy legs and strong arms are hanging out of it. The back of his head is resting on the ceramic edge with his eyes closed. He looks so peaceful. So calm. I want to see more of this side of him.
The water is all murky from the soap so nothing is showing that shouldn’t be.
“Tucker?” I say a little louder as I knock on the doorframe.
His eyes slowly open and he turns to me. His right eye is completely swollen over now. I doubt he can see anything from it.
He watches me as he takes the headphones out of his ears. He doesn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry to… I shouldn’t be here. I know, but I just… wanted to say thank you for lunch. That was sweet.”
He swallows and then nods slightly. “I’m sorry I was rude.”
“It’s okay,” I say, feeling my cheeks turning red. “I can see that you’re having a rough morning. Is your face hurting?”
He shrugs those big shoulders. “I’ll live.”
“Have you cleaned the wounds?”
“No.”
“Can I do it for you?” I ask.
He looks genuinely confused. “Why?”
“When I scraped my knee as a kid, my mom always cleaned it for me. It’s always a little easier when someone helps you heal, don’t you think? I cut my hand last year when I was cooking and I really wished my mom was there to help.”
He runs a wet hand through his messy brown hair and I get a little shiver at the sight of his huge tricep. This man must be the strongest person I’ve ever met.
“Where’s your first aid kit?” I ask.
“Under the sink,” he says after a long moment. “At your knees.”
I bend down and pull it out. I grab some ointment and some bandages and head over.
“Maybe you can…” I say as I toss him a hand towel. He catches it and puts it over his private area just in case the water is not soapy enough to cover everything.
I dab a cloth in the water and touch it to his bloody eyebrow. He doesn’t so much as wince or make a noise as I wash away the dried flakes of blood.