Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 81(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 81(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
"Who is Nell?"
"Sister."
"Ah." Her lips twitch. "Now, I understand."
"Understand what?"
"Why that groove between your eyes seems permanent." She giggles, the sweetest fucking sound that goes straight to my cock. "This wasn't your idea at all, was it?"
"Nope."
"Why do you even need an assistant?"
"You'll see in about five minutes," I mutter.
Her lips part into a little O, her expression turning curious. She still doesn't look comfortable, but she doesn't look completely terrified now. It's progress. But I still want to know what she's hiding behind those pretty eyes. I have a feeling it's what really lead her to take this job. I don't think there's a chance in hell she'd be up here otherwise.
I take the next cutoff, plunging deep into the woods. Low-hanging, icy branches brush against the roof of the Jeep. Cordelia jumps, reaching for the Oh, shit handle.
"Almost there," I say.
"No more Moscato ever again," she mutters under her breath.
We ride in silence as the road to the house narrows, winding deeper into the heart of the Cascades. Shadows creep in, daylight fading early this far north, especially under centuries worth of tree cover.
Cordelia grows restless, shifting this way and that in her seat as if she can't get comfortable. She opens her mouth four different times to say something and then snaps it closed again.
As soon as we round the bend and the cabin comes into view, she sits forward in her seat, studying it intently. It's not glamorous. The single-story log cabin is 700 square feet, with a gabled roof and a small front porch. The two bedrooms in the back share a bathroom between them, with the rest of the cabin reserved for the living room and kitchen. I eat at the island in the kitchen. Like I said, not glamorous.
But it's mine. I built it myself during the worst of the PTSD. I worked until I was too tired to function every day, trying to exhaust my mind into silence so I could sleep at night. Didn't work most days but having something other than the memories to focus on helped get me through the hardest days.
"This is where you live?" Cordelia asks after a moment, glancing over at me.
"Yep." I pull up in front of the cabin and cut the engine.
"Did you build it?"
"I did. Six years ago."
"It's beautiful, Deacon," she says softly.
"Thanks," I grunt, pocketing the keys. "Come on. Let's get you inside before it gets dark. You aren't dressed for the weather up here in that little bitty dress." I shake my head. "Hope to hell you brought warmer clothes, Sunshine. This ain't Seattle."
"Really? I never would have guessed," she says, her voice saccharine.
I narrow my eyes at her, but she only bats her lashes at me, her expression full of mischievous innocence. I want to kiss the little smirk off her lips. No, that's not true. What I want to do is mess those curls up while I'm kissing that smirk off her lips. Preferably while she's got those thighs wrapped around my hips and I'm drilling into her.
A memory of her lacy pink panties stretched across her round ass pops into my mind. I tuck and roll from the Jeep like my life depends on it. How the hell am I supposed to keep my hands off this girl for the next two weeks? Fuck if I know. It's been an hour and I'm already in hell.
This is all Nell's fault.
I mutter a curse and then circle around the Jeep to help Cordelia out. She steps out like a chick emerging from an egg, one little piece of her at a time. It's somehow the cutest and most ridiculous shit I've ever seen at the same time.
"The wind isn't showing me anything I didn't already see, Sunshine," I growl. "So you might as well get your ass out of the Jeep and into the house."
"Don't rush me," she huffs. "I'm manifesting success."
"At what?"
"Not dying in the freaking woods. Obviously." She rolls her eyes. "Yeesh. Are you always this cranky, Mountain Man?"
"You aren't going to die in the woods."
"I might. It looks very nature-y out here."
"It's a goddamn forest, Sunshine. It's nothing but nature."
"Would you stop reminding me!" she cries, shooting me a death glare.
"All right, that's it," I growl, scooping her up into my arms.
"Paul Bunyan, save me!"
"What?" I say, laughing abruptly.
"I said put me down."
"You did not. You screamed for Paul Bunyan to save you." I nudge her door closed with my shoulder and start for the cabin.
"Just checking to see if his spirit really haunts the mountains," she mutters, a pretty blush climbing up her cheeks. "You never know."
Jesus Christ. She's been here five minutes and she's already fucking up my world. Only, I don't resent it nearly as much as I do when the women in town do it. In fact, I don't resent it at all. I like it far too much.