Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Eve is sleeping peacefully in my bed, and my body aches to lie with her. I’m desperate to feel her warmth against my body, but instead I grab the chair nearby and move it beside the bed. I sit down and lean back as I watch her sleep and every muscle in my body finally relaxes. It feels right being close to her, and I don’t realize how much I need it until I’m away from her for so long.
I memorize the curve of her lips and the flare of her lashes on her cheeks. After doing all of this I know that it won’t be enough. I have to touch her. I lean forward and brush a dark strand of hair off of her cheek, and to my shock she leans in to the touch. Her skin is so warm and soft, and I let my fingers linger there.
“Dasher,” she says softly, but her eyes don’t flutter as she continues to sleep.
My heart swells in my chest, and I feel myself smiling as I sit there until the sun comes up, just being with her. Maybe this is wrong, but everything inside me is telling me to protect Eve and to keep her safe.
Chapter 9
Eve
I should get up. Even as I think those words I snuggle further into the bed. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well in my life, and I decide I want my next vacation to be in this bed.
A soft tap on the door has me sitting up, but before I can say come in, one of the double doors swings open and Dasher enters with a tray in his hands. How does he look so handsome this early in the morning? It really isn't fair to us mere mortals.
“I thought you might want some coffee.” He comes in and sets the tray down on the bed, and I look down his body.
He has on a pair of slacks and a button-up shirt that’s rolled up at the sleeves, making him look more relaxed. His short dark hair is tousled, and I itch to reach out and touch it.
“You didn't have to do all that,” I say, reaching up to try to tame my own hair. I’m sure I look like a hot mess right now.
“You have a busy day. It should start off with breakfast.” He lifts a silver lid to reveal pancakes and bacon.
“Oh wow,” I laugh. “You do know I work for you, right?”
He shrugs, and although I expect him to leave and say he’ll see me downstairs, I’m pleasantly surprised when he sits down in a chair next to the bed. I must have been really tired because I don’t remember it being that close last night.
“What time is it? Did we get snow?” I ask, looking over to where the windows are. Big thick curtains hang over them, not revealing anything.
“We got about six inches, but it’s stopped for now.”
“Oh, I guess that’s good. It gives them time to clear the roads.” Dasher nods in agreement.
“Eat,” he orders, and I give him a look before I pick up a piece of bacon. He really has two moods: sweet and stern. When I take a bite of the pancake, I let out a small moan, acknowledging that it beats out my normal breakfast of cereal by a mile.
“You better be careful or I’m never going to leave here. A girl could get comfortable,” I laugh, but Dasher only stares at me with that unreadable look on his face so I take another bite of my food. “Time?” I ask again.
“There’s no hurry. You’re here until the afternoon.”
“Yes, but I have work to do.” I turn, throwing my legs over the side of the bed. “I should get ready.”
“Eat.”
“You’re bossy.”
“I’ve been told.” He smirks, and I don’t know if I want to smack him or kiss him, so I go back to eating my breakfast.
“Happy?” I ask when I take my last bite.
“Getting there.” He pulls out his phone. “It’s almost ten-thirty.”
“What!” I jump from the bed. “How is that possible? I’m a morning person. I can’t remember the last time I slept past eight.” I rush over to my bag to find something to wear. I go with comfort since I’ll be working and can change here before I go to the Mills’.
Dasher leans back in the chair and watches me scurry around the room getting all my crap together before heading into the bathroom to get ready. When I come back out fifteen minutes later, he’s still sitting in the same spot.
“Don’t you have things you should be doing?” I accuse, but he just stands from the chair and walks over to me.
“How do you make these odd Christmas sweaters so attractive?” Wait, what did he say? “Here.” He holds out my glasses, and I take them from his hand.