Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
He leaned back in, getting Judah free, then carefully pressing him to his shoulder before wrapping his free arm around me, hauling me into his side as we moved around the SUV to look at the safe house.
I couldn’t say what I was expecting.
I guess in movies, safe houses were not actual houses, but crummy apartments in bad neighborhoods, somewhere cheap to rent and easy to blend in.
But this? This was an actual house.
Nothing like Aurelio’s gorgeous gothic farmhouse, of course.
It was more like a starter house. A squat little ranch with a brick face and cute yellow shutters.
There was no landscaping out front, but the yard was well-kept.
It was too dark to see past the house itself, so I had no idea how close the neighbors were. If there were any at all. Though I could see a tall stockade fence protecting the backyard from view, and my heart swelled a little at the idea of maybe being able to take Judah outside once in a while when we were getting cabin fever.
Aurelio’s hand slid from me to fish for the key to the front door, then we moved inside to a familiar beeping sound of the security system.
He plugged in the code before flicking on the light to reveal the cozy, somewhat sparse interior.
We walked right into an L-shaped room, one side serving as the living room with a couch and loveseat, two end tables, and a TV on the wall, and the other side was the dining space with a small rectangular table with four chairs.
Stepping in a few feet, there was a hallway right off the side of the dining room, leading to what seemed like a central bathroom and three bedrooms.
Off the other side of the dining room was a long kitchen with white cabinets, green countertops, and a warm yellow color on the walls.
“It’s cute. At least we won’t have to worry about stairs,” I said as Aurelio opened two of the doors in the kitchen. One went to the garage. The other went to a basement.
“I’m gonna have to run out first thing in the morning to stock up. Looks like the only things in here are some old canned goods for emergencies,” Aurelio said.
We’d packed things we thought we might need immediately—a cooler stocked with milk, eggs, some yogurt, and a bunch of dry goods—but we definitely would need more stores. Especially if we were going to be here for any length of time.
“How long do you think we will be here?” I asked as Aurelio led me down the hallway toward the bedrooms, opening each until he found the one that had a folding playard leaned against the wall.
“I’m hoping not longer than a week,” Aurelio said, carefully passing Judah into my arms, so he could open the playard.
In the closet, he found bedding in vacuum-sealed bags, and set the temporary crib up for Judah, then slipped him inside.
There was no adult bed in this room, just a toddler bed pushed against the wall.
I fought back a surge of panic, reminding myself that there were some nights when I slept in my own room instead of Judah’s. He never even knew if I was there or not.
And the next room shared a wall. I would probably hear him babble in his sleep.
We both tiptoed out of the room, and I closed the door quietly behind me.
“I’ll help you start bringing the stuff in,” I said.
“Not yet,” he said, reaching down for my hand, and pulling me with him toward the couch in the living room, where he sat, then reached for me, pulling me down so my legs were draped over his, and my head was against his chest.
His arms wrapped me up tight, then squeezed even harder.
“Never been that scared in my life,” he admitted.
“Me either,” I agreed, snuggling in because it felt too damn good not to, to deny myself the comfort a part of me was crying out for.
“How’s your jaw and cheek feeling?” he asked.
“Sore,” I admitted. “But tolerable. This hurts more,” I added, pulling away to pull down my lower lip to show him where my teeth had scraped it.
Aurelio’s hand moved out, gently tracing my lower lip.
And despite the stress, the fear, the uncertainty, the pain, and the exhaustion tugging at my eyelids, heat washed through me, desire starting to ping off each nerve ending.
“You hurt your lip,” Aurelio said, reading the need in my eyes.
“I don’t care,” I said, shifting to straddle him, my arms wrapping around his neck, and my lips lowering to his.
His lips were gentle on mine for a long time, until my own lips grew harder, hungrier.
His hands slid down my back, fingers sinking into my hips, then my ass, pulling me down so that my need pressed against his own.