Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 95898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“All right,” he says loudly, changing the subject with renewed determination to make light of a strained atmosphere, “how about a country style brunch? I’ve got bacon, eggs, and grits.” Another smile tugs at the corners of my lips. This is exactly like something Jake would do to put me in a better mood. Growing up, Jake would always distract me when I was having a bad day by making me something yummy in the kitchen.
“Ahhh, I can see I’m on to something here. Is that your morning poison?”
My lips twitch with a grin, and he raises his brow in question. “Cat got your tongue? Gotta tell me how you want this combo to go,” he cheerfully says as he lets go of me, grabbing the carton of eggs from the shelf. “Let me guess; a gluten-free, lactose intolerant southern girl like you takes eggs over easy with a slice of veggie cheese, and then mixes it all together in a bowl. Am I right?”
I will never know how he nailed that one. I’m simply amazed. “I’m impressed. You got it right.”
He stops to regard me with mock offense, his hands full of bacon and eggs. “Sweetheart, I’m never wrong. And as long as you can get that bit of trivia through your pretty little head, you might learn a thing or two.”
Unintentionally, a loud snigger bursts forth, and my hand flies to my mouth to cover the blunder. His eyes narrow on mine, but they're full of mirth, and his lips twitch in amusement.
“Dude, make me some too while you’re at it,” Stryker pipes in.
“Then get your lazy ass up here and help. This ain’t a bed and breakfast.”
After breakfast, I decided to stay busy and clean up the kitchen. The guys have made a serious mess in here, as dirty dishes are stacked high in the sink and the countertops are cluttered from last night’s dinner. I have nothing better to do anyway. As I load the dishwasher and wash the pots and pans, the guys continue to banter back and forth with each other while they finish cleaning their guns. It’s kind of funny to listen to them rib each other. I can tell just from this little bit of time I’ve spent with them that they have a camaraderie that’s unbreakable.
When I’m finished in the kitchen, I glance at the clock on the wall, and it reads almost noon. I look around, wondering what to do next to keep my mind busy. It’s bad enough all I can think about is Travis and how he left pissed off. My stomach twists into a knot thinking about it. I know with idle time on my hands I’ll just further confuse myself with my conflicted feelings. I turn around and notice Quinn is the only one left in the room with me. He most likely stayed behind on purpose to make sure I wouldn’t run. Probably a smart thing to do.
Travis still hasn’t returned to the house as far as I can tell. Quinn gestures for me to have a seat at the table across from him, and I hesitate. His look is serious, and I’m not sure I want to hear what he has to say.
“C’mon and have a seat,” he says as he pats the wooden table with the palm of his hand. “I want to talk to you for a bit.”
I slip into the chair across from Quinn and sit down with nervousness. Not knowing what to say or do, I drop my chin to my chest and twist my fingers nervously.
“Hey, look at me,” he softly requests, and when I do, I’m met with the most brilliant hue of blue. His lips have turned down in a frown, and my heart skips a beat. I don’t like the sudden shift of mood, and it puts me on edge.
“I’m not one to babble on with bullshit, so I’ll just cut to the chase here.” Dread fills me from head to toe as I hold my breath, preparing for the worse. He lets out a loud sigh, and the next thing he says stops my heartbeat in its tracks. “Do you want to know about Adam?” he asks me point blank.
What’s the catch? I glance to all four corners of the room, expecting…what, I don’t know. He’s acting covert, and it’s throwing me off. “Why?” I ask in a disbelieving whisper.
He leans forward in his chair as if he has some big secret to tell me. “I asked you a yes or no question,” he says bluntly, and lifts a brow as he waits for my response.
I swallow hard. The man knows how to play hardball, and hell yes I want to know about Adam. “You’ll let me call him?”
He shakes his head. “No, but I’ll show you.”