Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
I walked down the stairs and made my way through a room I guessed would have been called the parlor back in the day. Running my hands over the back of a settee, I realized everything in this room was antique and elegant. Not a piece of furniture nor trinket was modern in appearance. The wooden floor, the fireplace, the rocking chair in the corner of the room, all screamed a rich family history. Delicate lace doilies covered the arms of the overstuffed armchairs to protect the upholstery beneath. It was obvious every detail to make this cabin feel like a home was executed flawlessly. As I couldn’t picture any of the three Barrett men caring much about all these homey touches, I thought it likely they were a reflection of the brothers’ mother or grandmother. I wondered what she’d think of her precious little boys’ life choices?
I continued my impromptu tour, crossing the hall, moving toward the back of the cabin to find the kitchen. Standing in the doorway, I glanced around. As I expected, the kitchen was far from modern; not even a toaster or coffeemaker cluttered the counter. At least there were some useful items. I noticed a refrigerator that appeared at least a decade older than the one in Granny G’s apartment. The stove was far older, a definite throwback to times gone by. Sturdy wooden shelves nearby held several cast-iron frying pans, roasters, cooking pots, and a large blue-enameled coffee pot. Cooking in this kitchen was definitely going to be a challenge. Speaking of coffee, I could sure use a cup.
“Good morning.”
The greeting had me jump as I saw Banks sitting at a large wooden farm table. His long legs were stretched out, and one arm was slung over the back of the wooden chair, a pile of papers in front of him. I instantly felt like I was trespassing on his morning routine and I didn’t belong. When he lifted his cup to take a sip, I took a moment to study his face, his eyes, his entire body. It was hard to believe this man sitting before me played a part in my kidnapping. He was not only relaxed, almost friendly and inviting, his very presence oozed morning sex and sunlight kisses all at the same time. I felt my guard relax by simply standing before him. This man may be soft right now, but when it came right down to it, he was also my ruthless jailer. No matter how my mind—and body—were playing tricks on me, this man was just one of three captors who held the skeleton key to my cage.
“Um, good morning,” I said, wondering how I could try to make my voice not sound so nervous and weak all the time. I glanced at the floor, at the ceiling, around the kitchen to try to avoid his piercing stare. “Where is everyone else? Kit?” When he didn’t answer, I lifted my gaze to him.
As if that was what he’d been waiting for, waiting for my respect, he nodded his approval.
“She’s out collecting eggs with her brothers so you can make breakfast.” He slowly scanned me from head to toe. “You look really pretty today.”
I bit my tongue before I could tell him to make his own damn breakfast. Starting the first day of my new life with an argument was probably not a good idea. I must remember that the deal had been made, and I needed to keep my end of the bargain. And it wasn’t the cooking comment that had truly thrown me… it was the compliment. “Um, thanks. I didn’t realize anyone was up yet.”
Banks shrugged. “We let you sleep in, though that is not to become a habit.”
“Give me my cell phone, and I’ll be glad to set my alarm.”
His lack of response told me how that request would go. I felt a bit foolish but blamed it on lack of caffeine. “I’m sure I’ll acclimate. How about I get you some more coffee?” I offered, looking toward the stove again.
He lifted his cup. “Not coffee, this was milk.”
Of course it was. He’d probably gotten it straight from a cow, too. He grinned at what I’m sure was the look of utter despair on my face.
“Don’t worry. There are beans in the pantry.”
“Thank God,” I said, about to move toward what I assumed was the pantry when he spoke again, tucking his papers back into their folder.
“I know it’s going to take some time to become accustomed to our new life, but you will. Everything has happened pretty fast. I want to take this time to get to know you.”
I shifted my weight and wiped my dampened palms on my skirt. “I’m not really sure what you want—”
“Favorite food?” Banks interrupted. The firmness in the question startled me.