Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
She gave him a pretty smile. “Thank you.”
“What time is the rest of your stuff being delivered?”
“Around six-thirty. There’s not a whole lot of it, so it won’t take long for me to unpack.” Quinley shoveled a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. “I’ll also have to let out my cat so she can leave her own mark on the place. She’s also set on territorially marking the yard.”
“She’s welcome to do both.” He took a swig of his coffee. “I want to meet your cat. Would she be up for that later?”
“Sure.” Quinley cast him an odd, sideways glance. “I take it you’d rather wait before introducing your cat to me or mine.”
Isaiah frowned. “There’s no need to wait. He has no negative feelings toward you.”
Her expression was soft but sober. “Don’t lie. If he looks at me and resents that I’m not—”
“He doesn’t,” Isaiah stated, firm. “I wouldn’t lie about that. I also wouldn’t suggest you meeting him so soon if I thought he’d give you the cold shoulder.”
Having been rejected by the one person who should never have overlooked or turned their back on her, she’d naturally be sensitive to any element of rejection. Isaiah knew he’d have to be mindful of that.
She eyed him for a moment. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
“I’m absolutely certain.”
“Then I’ll take your word for it.” She ate the last of her cereal, dropped the spoon into the bowl, and then chugged down what was left of her coffee. “Gonna have to head out.”
And … he found that he didn’t like that. Which took him off-guard, because he hadn’t for a second imagined he’d be fazed by her doing something so mundane as going to work.
Her head twitched to the side. “What’s wrong?”
Typical submissive, already so in tune with him. Being such a private person, he probably should have found it at least mildly irritating, but he didn’t. “Nothing’s wrong as such. I just unreasonably find that I prefer the idea of you spending the entire day here, where you’re safe.”
Her lips winged up. “You’re cute.”
“Cute?”
“Well … there’s no reality in which it would ever happen. I would never manage to spend the entire day indoors. And the beauty salon is not fraught with peril, so I’ll really be fine.”
Quinley could sense that, while he agreed with the latter, his instinct to keep her here wasn’t shifting. He didn’t intend to act on it, but he couldn’t shake it off.
She twisted so she fully faced him. “I’ll admit that you being Tate’s bodyguard makes me nervous. Being an enforcer carries enough danger. That you’re also the shield of the pride member who’s the biggest target … yeah, I don’t much like it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I want you to give up the position,” she hurried to add.
He laid a reassuring hand on her knee. “I understand. We’re in the same boat. I don’t want you to give up your job, but I’m protective enough that I’ll worry.” He gave her knee a squeeze. “Thank you for that piece of honesty. I know you only confessed it to make me feel better.”
Busted. “Did it work?”
“Yes. I like that there’s a balance.” He slanted his head. “What is your job at the salon?”
“It doesn’t really have a title. People sometimes call it, ‘the regular brush with near-death,’” she added with an amused smile, thinking he’d return it. He didn’t.
“That does not make me feel better about you leaving for work.”
“They’re being dramatic.”
“What is it you do that would make them give such a dramatic answer?”
Probably something he wouldn’t like, actually, now that she thought about it. “The salon offers what has become a very popular pamper day package. So, basically, someone will come to the salon, shift so their inner animal can be bathed and groomed, return to their human form to receive a massage, and then go have their hair, nails, and makeup done.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Please don’t tell me you bathe and groom their animals.”
Yeah, he definitely wasn’t pleased. “Would you prefer I gave massages?”
“Fuck, no.” He lowered his gaze to her hands. “They’re my hands now.” He set down his cup. “And I don’t want them getting bitten off.”
“It’s rare that I get bit or clawed.”
He pressed his lips together. “Again, this isn’t making me feel better about you leaving.”
He truly was super cute. “Really, it’s not dangerous. I use my healing energy to help relax and soothe them while I do my pampering part of the package. And shifters know that if their animals bite me they have to pay double, so they’re particularly careful of ensuring the beasts behave themselves.”
“Still not feeling better over here.”
Snorting, Quinley slipped off the stool. “I’ll be fine, I swear. And I really have to go, but I’ll be back around five-thirty.”