Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
I felt Danny’s eyes on me as I tossed a small pillow into a pillowcase and realized he was profiling me too.
He squatted down in front of his backpack and dug out his toiletry kit and a pair of flannel bottoms, and right then and there, I saw something. A flash of baby-blue stood out in his bundle of army green and black. He met my gaze in a fraction of a second before he hurriedly closed his backpack again.
I was mistaken, right? He didn’t have a small stuffed animal in there.
“I’m just gonna take a piss,” he muttered and walked out.
I frowned to myself and listened. A couple muted thumps across the porch’s floorboards, then down the porch steps. I had approximately ten seconds before he’d be near a window—five, if he went up the porch steps again. I didn’t think twice. I quickly opened his bag and lifted a couple tees or whatever they were, and there it was. A pastel-blue plush toy in the shape of a baby elephant. I knew those bloody toys. America had lost its fucking mind collecting Beanie Babies, and my sister was one of them.
She lied and said they were for the kids.
Why did Danny have one?
I buried the little elephant under the clothes and closed the backpack once more.
After fanning out the top sheet over the couch, I ran a hand through my hair and went into my room to make my own bed. Danny—elite soldier, a Green Beret—with a stuffed animal?
Connect the fucking dots for me without involving my core kink, please.
Was he selling them? I watched the damn news… I’d seen those crazy ladies making bank on toys. I’d seen the hordes of women barge into stores and rip the toys out of the hands of children.
My sister kept her collection in a glass cabinet, and no one was allowed to touch them. They had the heart-shaped red tags on and all.
I hadn’t seen a tag on Danny’s toy.
This was gonna frustrate the ever-loving fuck out of me.
“I’ve only met him once, and I’m already an admirer of that boy.”
“Danny is angry, and he is lost. That’s why I agreed to his terms, because I believe he’ll find what he’s looking for with you.”
“Fuck you, Arden,” I whispered.
CHAPTER 4
Iwhistled to myself and walked out of the outhouse. Apple trees in bloom, sky was blue, birds chirping. Might be a good day. If Danny would just get back here…
I’d heard him come back in last night after I’d gone to bed.
I’d also heard him rev the engine of his motorcycle at the crack of dawn this morning. My heart had jumped out of my body about a second before the rest of me had jumped out of bed. But his belongings were still in the cabin.
He’d be back. He would.
Back inside the cabin, I grabbed a towel and bar of soap from my duffel, and then I took off my clothes and headed outside again. The lake might be cold all year around, ranging between fifty-five and sixty degrees in the summer, but it was clean and a gorgeous blue-green color. Almost good enough to drink. I had my own little pebble beach too.
I left the towel on a bigger rock and waded into the water. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Oh, I loathed this part. I winced and ripped off the Band-Aid, diving under before I could chicken out. Bloody fucking hell! Always a shock to the system. I resurfaced in waist-deep water and got cracking.
“Jesus Christ.” I shuddered and scrubbed the soap over my arms.
Wait, did I hear an engine? It sure sounded like—yes. I heard it. Thank fuck. Definitely a motorcycle.
The twins should be back in forty-five minutes or so too.
I soaped up my armpits, my neck, and my chest, and I felt relieved when I finally spotted Danny coming in around the bend, his bike kicking up dust along the way.
Hopefully, there’d be no awkwardness. He must’ve seen me noticing that plush toy last night.
It was his. It simply had to be. If it’d belonged to someone else, he wouldn’t be embarrassed. If that’s what he was. Or had been. I didn’t fucking know.
The bike suited him perfectly. A vintage-looking Yamaha, all chrome and metallic black. Nothing monstrous, just clunky enough not to be called sporty. It made me miss my own bike. I’d stupidly sold it a few years ago.
Danny removed his helmet and squinted toward me. He had the sun in his eyes. “Will you put on a show every morning? I just wanna make sure to clear my schedule.”
I chuckled and made quick work of turning my hair white with suds. “Morning to you too. You should get in. It’s freezing.”
“Later.” He dismounted his bike and flipped open one of his saddlebags. “I bought breakfast. How do you like your eggs?”