Lost in You (Minnesota Mammoths #1) Read Online Brenda Rothert

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Minnesota Mammoths Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
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She’s soft and warm, her curves molding against me. I can feel her crying into the crook of my neck so I tighten my hold on her.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” I quip.

I can hear the exhaustion in her laugh. She pulls back and cups my cheeks in her hands. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

Her expression relaxes. “Okay, let’s get you warmed up and I’ll get you some food.”

She takes my arm and walks me over to the fireplace, where a fire is blazing. I sit down on the floor in front of it, the warmth like a soothing balm on my skin.

“How long was I gone?”

“Twenty-three hours.” She puts the quilt from the bed around my shoulders. “I’ve been a mess. Don’t go out there again, Linc. Please.”

“I won’t. I thought I was done for.”

“What happened?” She looks back at me over her shoulder as she walks to the kitchen.

“I got lost. My tracks got covered by snow drifts. I came back from a totally different direction than the one I left in.”

She shakes her head. “I’d rather just live here forever than risk you dying.”

I consider her words as she pours me a cup of coffee. “Live here forever, huh? With a grouchy old hockey player?”

A smile plays on her lips as she brings the mug over to me. “Maybe not. How old are you?”

“I’m 35.”

“Oh, is that all? I thought you were at least forty-five.” She gives me a playful look.

I scoot closer to the fire. “I saw a bear.”

Her brows hit her hairline. “Are you serious? Was it aggressive?”

“No, it was way off in the distance. I don’t think it even saw me. But I don’t want to get any closer to one.”

She nods. “I’m glad you’re not going out again. I made food if you’re hungry.”

“I’m starving. What’d you make?”

“Taco soup and an apple crisp.”

Now I’m the one giving her an incredulous look. “Apple crisp?”

“With dried apples. It turned out pretty well, but I don’t have any ice cream to put on top of it.”

My stomach growls painfully as I stand up. “I don’t care. I’ll take it and whatever taco soup is left.”

She opens the cabinet to take out a bowl. I reach for the pot on the hotplate, taking it by the handle.

“No bowl?” she asks, puzzled.

I shake my head. “I’m eating it all, no reason to dirty another dish.”

Amused, she passes me a spoon. I dig in immediately, closing my eyes as the first spicy bite touches my tastebuds.

“This is great.”

She smiles and sits down across from me. “How much would you pay right now for an actual taco?”

“Hardshell or softshell?

She considers. “Hardshell. Warm, crunchy shell loaded with seasoned beef, queso, onions and tomatoes.”

“Ten grand.”

She bursts out laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Yep. I’d pay fifty grand for five of those. How much would you pay?”

“Well, I’m not a millionaire, but I’d do a few hundred.” She passes me a big glass of water.

“Thanks.” I drink half of it and set the glass back down. “How much for a huge banana split?”

“Oh.” The word comes out of her mouth as a sensual moan. “A lot. Especially if it had caramel and strawberries and whipped cream.”

“I’d go fifteen large for a banana split. And honestly, I wouldn’t blink at twenty for a big, perfectly cooked filet mignon.”

She hums her agreement. “See, that would be a major downside to staying here forever.”

I’m looking at her longer than I should, and I notice the dark circles under her eyes. “Have you slept at all?”

“A couple of hours.”

“We both need some sleep. I think we should pile on the covers and say fuck the fire until the cold wakes one of us up.”

Amusement dances in her eyes. “Okay, fuck the fire.”

I finish the pot of soup and then down the rest of the apple crisp, which turns out to be delicious.

“Keep your back to me while I change,” Trinity says.

Two minutes later, she’s wearing her long underwear. She puts the quilt back on the bed and then adds the afghan from the back of the couch. Every muscle from my waist down aches as I walk over to the bed, taking off my boots and socks.

“Is it okay if I take my jeans off? I promise--”

“Of course.” She waves a hand dismissively.

“You don’t even know what I was about to promise.” Even dead on my feet, I couldn’t resist a chance to make her blush.

Her laugh is nervous as she locks eyes with me. I wink at her and her smile widens, but she looks away.

I slide out of the jeans, leaving me in boxers and a Henley. When I lie down on the firm flannel-sheet-topped mattress and pull the covers over myself, I groan with satisfaction.

Trinity turns off the lamp, stokes the fire one more time, and climbs into bed beside me.



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