Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
And this time, I doubted anything would bring them down again.
SOFIA
I woke up to the scent of something delicious. I smiled into my pillow, knowing Egan was in my kitchen and making us a meal to eat. I glanced at the clock, surprised to see I had slept longer than usual. I got up and had a quick shower, then headed to the kitchen.
I watched Egan for a moment, caught up in the image. He had a tea towel slung over his shoulder and another tucked into his waistband for a makeshift apron. He was busy chopping, his brow furrowed in concentration. I could smell garlic, spices, and tomato sauce. My mouth watered at the aroma and the vision of the sexy man preparing the food.
He didn’t look up, but he spoke.
“I know you are there, Sofia. I feel your eyes on me.”
I sauntered forward, standing beside him. I slipped my arm around his waist and leaned against his shoulder. “You look so sexy in my kitchen. Any kitchen, really.”
He chuckled and pressed a kiss to my head. “I am making you cutlets and pasta.”
“My favorite.”
He smiled. “I know.”
He finished his task and moved to the sink, washing his hands. “You slept well, iubirea mea?”
“I did. For too long, though.”
He shook his head. “You are tired. You are always tired by the last night. I am driving you tonight and picking you up.”
“Egan,” I began, but he shook his head, stopping my words.
“It is what is happening,” he said. “Now, sit down, and I will bring you dinner.”
I sat down with a frown. Something was off with him. He was tense, his accent thicker. That was always a clue to his frame of mind.
He brought over dinner and sat down with his own plate. “I assumed no wine.”
“No, not when I have a shift.”
“Tomorrow, then,” he said, picking up his cutlery and beginning to eat.
He was quiet most of dinner, which wasn’t unusual. Egan wasn’t much for small talk, although he usually had some questions about our time apart. How my shift was the night before? Had there been any interesting cases? Any amusing incidents? Did I eat the snack he packed me? But today, he was withdrawn, and I noticed that although he ate, it wasn’t with his usual gusto. He pushed the food around on the plate, barely finishing his meal.
I studied him, seeing the worry in his expression. The tension in his shoulders. More than once, I felt his gaze on me, and when I would meet his eyes, I caught a glimpse of such sadness, my heart ached. Something was up. Something big.
And I was determined to know what it was.
I finished my meal and complimented him. I insisted on helping him clean the kitchen, although there wasn’t much. Egan always cleaned as he cooked. But we put the food away, stacked the dishwasher, and took a cup of coffee and sat on the sofa. I was shocked when Egan sat across from me, not beside me. I had also noticed the lack of physical contact from him. Aside from a quick kiss and squeezing my hand once, he hadn’t touched me. That was highly unusual. He normally couldn’t keep his hands to himself.
My stomach felt like it was tied in knots.
Outside, the sky was a dull gray, a slight drizzle hitting the glass.
“I hate this sort of weather,” I murmured.
He met my gaze. “Oh?”
“It’s just enough rain for the roads and sidewalks to be slick. People don’t pay attention. The ER will be full of accidents.”
He nodded silently, sipping his coffee. I put down my mug, the sound of the ceramic hitting the wooden table loud in the room.
“Whatever you have to tell me, Egan, just say it.”
He began to shake his head, but I stopped him. “No. Something is wrong. The way you’re acting, I can see it. Feel it. Talk to me.” I took in a deep breath. “Are you regretting this? Regretting us? Was the idea better than the reality?”
He looked shocked. “No, Sofia. Nothing like that. I love you. That has not—will not—change, no matter what. I am sorry, my love, if I gave you that impression.”
“But something is wrong.”
He paused then nodded. “Yes. I have something to tell you, and your reaction worries me.”
“Why?”
“I am afraid you will decide to stop this. Stop us. And I cannot face that moment.”
I frowned. “Egan, I won’t—”
He held up his hand, cutting me off. “Do not say words you may take back.”
Something in his tone scared me, and I pulled my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my knees. “Tell me,” I pleaded.
He told me about the strange visits he’d had. First, Alex, then the men today. Realizing that the two drop-ins were related. The feeling of being threatened.
He sat down, running a hand through his hair. “Damien is using his resources to see if he can find information.”