Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
“Thank you for the help with my little drama queen.” She turns and gives the dog a fond look, and I can’t help but notice the ease in her demeanor and the way she seems to wear her confidence like a cozy sweater. “Sorry again for the chaos.”
“No worries. Meeting you and Oreo has made my long, frustrating day better.” I grin, feeling the last remnants of my grumpiness fall away as she opens her hotel room door. I glance around, making sure the room is empty before turning back to my mate.
She laughs, a clear, melodic sound that resonates through the corridor. “Well, you must’ve had a really bad day if dealing with us was an improvement.”
She has no fucking idea.
My inner polar bear is ready to bite her elegant neck and make her mine for all eternity, but I fight the urge, knowing my human mate is going to need a little convincing first. Knowing I need to handle this delicately, I wrestle my bear into submission and tell her, “If you need help with any more stroller emergencies, you know where to find me.” I point at my door a little further down the hallway.
“Thanks,” she says, her eyes lingering on mine as electricity flows between us. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
She turns to guide the stroller into the hotel room, and I watch her go with a smile tugging at my lips. I feel oddly energized, and my room suddenly seems less inviting now that the hallway has emptied of her presence.
I head back inside, closing the door quietly. Sleep is the furthest thing from my mind as I call and wake up my cousin. “Why the fuck are you calling me at this ungodly hour?”
“I need your help.”
“Motherfucker,” he grumbles, and I can hear rustling on the other end of the line. “I just got to sleep an hour ago,” he complains. “Let me go out to the living room so I don’t wake up Bethany.” Fuck. I forgot his pregnant mate has been struggling to find any comfort as her due date approaches.
“I’m sorry to call so late, but I really need your help. Fast.”
“What’s going on?” Clay is all business. He owns an IT Company and has the ability to investigate just about anything.
“First, I need to swear you to secrecy.” I don’t want him telling my family about this before I have a chance to.
“Fine,” he grumbles. “I promise not to rat you out to your parents.”
“I met my mate tonight.” The dead silence on the other end of the line tells me I managed to shock the fucker. “And I need you to find out everything there is to know about her.”
“Fucking hell.” He goes straight into work mode. “Give me everything you know and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter 3
Lennon
The moonlight spills through the slats in my blinds, painting stripes across the foot of my bed. I lie there staring at the ceiling, listening to Oreo’s rhythmic snoring. My little stinker has somehow managed to commandeer most of the blankets and ninety percent of the queen-sized bed. Typical. He’s cocooned in the covers, leaving me with a chilly sliver of sheet that does a poor job of keeping the night air at bay.
My icy toes aren't the only reason I'm wide awake. I can't shake thoughts of the stranger down the hall. "Handsome" seems too simple a word, yet nothing else quite captures him. I remember everything about him as the memory of our brief meeting runs through my mind on a constant loop. My girly bits wake up as I recall how he towered over me, commanding and imposing. His rich black hair perfectly framed his rugged face, while his dark, intense eyes stared into my soul. His strong jaw, accentuated by a neatly trimmed beard, added a touch of refinement to his raw masculinity.
I nearly fan myself remembering the sight of his broad chest, sculpted with the precision of an artist's chisel, speaking of strength and discipline. Elaborate tattoos adorn his skin, weaving a tapestry of color and design across his chest and cascading down his arm. The intricate ink tells tales of its own, adding layers of mystery to him.
There was something magnetic about him, a warmth in his smile that still lingers in my mind. We crossed paths in the hallway for just a few minutes, but it was enough to etch an impression I can’t seem to erase.
I turn over for the hundredth time, trying to find a comfortable spot, but warmth eludes me. Oreo lets out a little snort, oblivious to my insomnia, and I envy his ability to just switch off. If only I could slip into dreams as easily. Instead, I’m wide awake, replaying every detail of the stranger down the hall—the quiet confidence in his voice, the way his eyes caught the light. It’s ridiculous how a brief encounter can unravel a night’s rest like this.