There Should Have Been Eight Read Online Nalini Singh

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 120230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
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Light footsteps on the stairs before Aaron and Grace walked into the kitchen hand in hand. “Lu, what—” Aaron hissed out a breath. “You spotted the others?”

I took one look at Grace’s flushed skin and the languid look in Aaron’s eyes and knew exactly what they’d been up to. “Yes. They’re visible in the distance.”

“I’ll heat up the food.” Aaron was already moving to turn on the stovetop. “Gracie, why don’t you put on the coffee and start a pot of tea?”

“I’ll get out the honey, too.” Grace began to fill the kettle. “Sweet and hot, that’s the ticket after being cold and wet. Oh, shall I add logs to the living room fire? It should still be going but is probably low.”

“I’ll do that,” I volunteered.

With the distance the others had to cover, we had the lounge fire blazing and the kitchen warm with the scent of coffee by the time I got my first real glimpse of the returning group, the rain a sleet-gray curtain.

I frowned. “Kaea’s not walking on his own.” He was being supported by Ash and Phoenix, one on either side of him.

“Is he hurt?” Aaron’s shoulder brushed mine in the doorway, his lanky body taut. “Should we go out?”

“No, we’ll do better helping them once they get closer.” There wasn’t any point in us getting drenched and needing to dry off before we could assist them once they were inside. “Kaea looks okay except for his leg. Have you seen a first-aid kit around here?”

Aaron shook his head, but Grace piped up with, “I have an emergency one that I take when traveling. It’s only small, though.”

“Grab it anyway. If I know Kaea, he’ll have one in his luggage, too—I’ll get that.” Given the situation, I didn’t have any hesitation in racing up the stairs in the direction of his room.

I knew where he usually kept the kit, which meant I wouldn’t have to rifle through his bag. Always in the side pocket of his pack—he’d drummed that piece of knowledge into all of us when we began to hike and camp together. Just in case something ever happened to him and he was unable to tell us where to find it.

The dark green backpack in his room looked identical to the one he’d had at uni, if a bit more battered, with more badges sewn into it from the places he’d hiked. The one from Glacier National Park, a trip he’d taken during our winter season, was pristine, the white threads that edged the badge clean of any accumulated dust.

Sewn on only recently.

As for the emergency first-aid kit, it was exactly where I’d expected it to be: in the square side pocket just big enough to fit the red metal tin he’d inherited from his pops.

I pulled it out—and accidentally pulled out something else that must’ve been at the bottom. A scarf, the gauzy fabric a faded purple with white flowers. My forehead wrinkled. Funny, but I could’ve sworn I’d seen that before. Shoving it back into the pocket with a shrug, I then got myself downstairs.

Kaea’s group still hadn’t made it to the door, and I saw that despite our earlier conversation, Aaron had gone out to help. He’d always had the softest heart of all of us, so it wasn’t exactly a shock that he hadn’t been able to stand watching them struggle.

Grace hovered in the doorway, twisting her hands together. “I feel like we should go out there,” she said. “But I don’t know what we could do. Aaron said he could at least take a couple of the daypacks off their hands.”

“I know it’s instinct to rush out. But they’ll need us when they make it here.”

And at last they reached us and it was all hands on deck. I ended up with Kaea, helping him strip off his top half while he sat on a chair. Vansi and Phoenix rubbed themselves off with rapid motions, then headed to their room, but Ash and Darcie decided to remove their outer layers in the kitchen.

“I don’t mind if you want to get naked here,” I said to Kaea. “I’ve seen you in your birthday suit before and lived to tell the tale.” Such glimpses were hard to avoid when you lived together and certain people had a way of turning exhibitionist when drunk.

He grinned, but there was a wince to it. “I think I’ll have to. Fucked up my leg.”

Placing one hand on the table and one on the back of the chair, he pushed himself up slightly, the veins on his arms standing out and his biceps taut.

His breath was short, shallow.

Working as fast as possible, I tugged his pants off over his butt and down. I did, in the end, leave him with his black boxer briefs. But only long enough to throw the pants on the pile of discarded towels. At which point, I grabbed a fresh towel he could wrap around his waist so he could push down the briefs while maintaining his modesty.



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