Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Mason holds up a hand and shakes his head. “It’s all right. You’re not in any trouble or anything.” His gaze rakes over my body, and his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath. “I would never scold you for looking like that.”
I’ve barely recovered from the full-body tingle of his approval before he heads for the kitchen. “You hungry?”
“Starved.”
“Since our pancake breakfast was cut short, let me make it up to you.”
It wasn’t his fault that the meal ended prematurely, but considering he’s pulling a griddle pan from beneath the granite counter, I’m not going to correct him. Not when it will be much more fun to watch him cook. Nothing is sexier than a man who knows his way around the kitchen. I will die on this hill.
First, though, he prepares a pot of coffee. “I hope you don’t mind plain caffeine. I enjoy espresso drinks, but it’s too fussy to make them every day.”
“I don’t mind.” Really, I just like being with him. I’m not brave enough to say that, though, so I settle for perching on a stool at the island and watching him get things together. “Can I help?”
“No, I’ve got it under control.” And he does. He moves around the sparkling kitchen with more grace and fluidity than I would’ve expected. He’s not fumbling around, muttering to himself, wondering where the ingredients are. He knows what he’s doing, and in no time, he’s mixed a batter, which he begins spooning onto a sizzling skillet.
“Can I ask you something?”
His shoulders hunch a little. I can’t see his face, but that alone tells me he’s on guard. “You’re pretty good at asking questions.”
“Okay. Let me rephrase. If I ask a question, will you answer?”
“Depends on the question.”
This guy. Always has to make things more difficult. “Well, I’ve been wondering ever since I first came here what this place is all about.”
He pauses in the act of flipping a pancake. “I know. And you’ve pestered me about it.”
Pestered? I’ll let that pass. “I’m curious, that’s all. Can you blame me? This is unlike any hotel I’ve ever seen.”
“You stay in a lot of hotels?”
“Stop avoiding the question, please. What’s it really about? I know this isn’t a normal place.”
His shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath before he looks at me over his shoulder. He doesn’t seem too irritated, so I’ll take it as a good sign. “What if you end up finding out something you can’t unlearn, and it gets you in trouble?”
“Gee. I have no idea what it’s like to be in trouble.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
Another deep breath. “The people who stay here aren’t typical guests.” That, I pretty much figured out by myself. “When they stay here, it’s because they need protection.”
“What kind of protection?”
He hesitates for a second, then raises an eyebrow. “Government protection.” He says it like it’s a challenge. “What do you think about that? Glad you asked?”
Goose bumps pebble my arms. I had a feeling it had to be something like that, but hearing it out loud is another story. “Like witness protection type stuff?”
“Sure. If it makes you feel better to put a label on it, be my guest.” He turns away from the stove with a small stack of pancakes on a plate, which he places in front of me. He then plates his own and sits down on the other side of the island. There’s not much space between us, but right now, it might as well be miles. He runs a hotel to protect people. This is next level.
“It’s more than that?”
“Teagan.” His voice is heavy with what sounds like disapproval. “You’re not a stupid girl. You have to know I can’t go into detail.”
“Why not?”
“Because knowing too much could put you in danger.”
And I believe him. That’s the thing. He’s not making it up to get me off his back. It feels like I should change the subject, so I point at the pancakes with my fork before swallowing a mouthful. “These are delicious. Better than Pancake Castle.”
“I don’t know. They were pretty good.” But he looks pleased. It’s funny, being able to please him with such a simple compliment. He’s a mystery I can’t help wanting to solve.
This is nice. Sitting together, eating breakfast, like two ordinary people. So domesticated. I can almost forget the strange circumstances surrounding us. And that we’re sitting in a hotel for people who need protection. I wonder why they do. I need to deal with my curiosity problem because I’m sure he won’t tell me. If I beg, he’ll only clam up tighter.
He scowls when his phone rings. “It’s always something.” Why do I get the feeling he likes it, though? I’m not that naive. He holds the phone to his ear and listens, and while I can’t hear what the other person says, I get the feeling when his jaw ticks that it’s not good news.