Series: The Weavers Circle Series by Jocelynn Drake
Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“Wiley told me about the soul mates. Surely this time you have more going for you.”
“True. According to the aunts, we didn’t have that before.”
“So, this time is different.”
“Yeah, it is.” Grey stared in his general direction, his gray eyes sparkling in the sunlight. Cort felt like the man was looking right through him and could maybe see the feelings he was starting to have for him. He was so drawn to Grey, he just wanted to touch him all the time and already, his heart was getting involved.
It was too fast, so he couldn’t help but worry that it was going to get broken.
Chapter 13
Cort smiled at Grey as he watched him stretch his arms over his head. He was sporting a pair of sweat pants and a sleeveless T-shirt. The December morning air was hovering in the low fifties, but the sun was supposed to warm the area into the upper sixties by midday. And chilly or not, Cort was enjoying the view. Grey was all lean muscles and dark hair dusting his forearms.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss jogging. I hate jogging,” Grey announced. He stretched out a hand and placed it on the edge of the counter to steady himself. Reaching behind him, he grabbed an ankle, stretching leg muscles.
“Well, we need to work up to jogging. I’m thinking a brisk walk for a mile or two is plenty,” Cort said.
Grey nodded. “I need to get out there before I put on any more weight. My jeans are already feeling tight.”
Cort bit his tongue to hold in any comments about how Grey looked damn perfect to him. Or that he would have preferred to walk over to Grey and run his hands over every inch of the man, kneading muscles while sucking on his tongue, but he was still trying to figure out what was happening between them. It wasn’t enough that he’d been introduced to this new world, but he’d crossed a personal line by kissing Grey.
Well, Grey had kissed him, but that certainly hadn’t stopped Cort from kissing him right back.
No, kissing and touching and all of that fun stuff was off the table for now. It had been just over twenty-four hours since those stolen kisses, and right now they were sticking to hand-holding and maybe a few light touches. That was enough. At least until Cort got his head screwed on straight again.
The soft shuffle of feet across the hardwood floor drew Cort out of his inappropriate thoughts, and he smiled when Calder appeared in the kitchen. The man’s hair was standing up in every direction, and he was rubbing bleary eyes. He paused, his gaze darting from Grey to Cort as if taking in their exercise clothes.
“I don’t understand you happy morning people,” Calder muttered as he made his way to the coffeemaker. He gasped to see the carafe was actually empty. “And you’re this cheerful without coffee? There is something seriously wrong with you both. This isn’t some brotherhood. It’s an evil cult. I’ve been kidnapped by a cult.”
Grey snorted. “I remember you jumping into the SUV without much coercion.”
Calder grumbled to himself for a second before looking over at Grey. “I was temporarily brainwashed.”
Cort reached out and squeezed Calder’s shoulder as he moved around the island to stand beside Grey. “Make some coffee. We’re going for a walk.”
Calder’s head popped up from where he’d been watching the water from the faucet pour into the carafe. “Is that safe?”
“We’ll stick close to the property boundaries,” Cort replied. Clay and Dane had been very clear about the protection spell that ran the perimeter. It would keep the pestilents at bay, but not humans under the control of the pestilents. Cort planned to stick close to the property. He didn’t have any kind of defensive training, and he was determined to keep Grey safe. But he refused to be trapped there. “If you and the others haven’t eaten yet, I’ll make some oatmeal for breakfast.”
Grey wrinkled his nose. “Oatmeal? I was thinking bacon and sausage with a side of pancakes.”
“I thought you were just complaining about the fit of your pants. And what about your cholesterol?”
A snort left Grey, and the man grinned. “The walking makes room for the pancakes, and I don’t think I can die of clogged arteries and high cholesterol now.”
“Freaking cult,” Calder muttered under his breath as he poured water into the coffeemaker.
Grey opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. His entire body became incredibly rigid, every muscle seemingly frozen. His head was cocked just slightly, as if he were straining to hear something in the distance.
“Shit,” he swore softly. “Someone’s coming.”
“What?”
“That…that feeling I got at the beach and the attack at dinner. Like an evil whisper in my brain. It’s here. Something is—”