Damaged King Read Online Terri E. Laine

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Novella Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
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I stopped myself from saying anything else as my heart fluttered. I’d made that mistake before with a man and had read all the wrong signals. Grant was just a nice guy, doing something nice. It didn’t go further than that.

My breath clouded the air as my silence created awkwardness I didn’t welcome.

“I bet you come out here a lot,” I said.

“Sometimes. When I want to think.”

Then we watched the sun disappear in the horizon. The air cooled quickly and I shivered.

Once again, he took my hand and I let him. “Come on. Let’s get back inside.”

Our walk had felt like something akin to magical, the way we were walking in the woods hand in hand. So much so, I practically bolted away from him once we were nestled back in the cabin. I locked myself in the room, afraid I would turn and see that damn sexy smile of his waiting for me at my door.

As I made my way to the bathroom, not a really long walk, I almost wanted him to invite himself to shower with me. Especially as our eyes locked when I reached my destination. His room door next to where I stood was wide open, giving me a view of him pulling off his shirt.

Muscles bunched and stretched as I held still, frozen and mesmerized by his movements. I fumbled with the door handle and hastily stepped inside, closing the door behind me. Yet, I didn’t lock this one. My inner thoughts betrayed my good sense, hoping he’d follow me in.

After a few minutes of staying under the warm spray and he didn’t come, I got to work washing my hair and body. Because I didn’t want to use all the hot water, assuming he would take a solo shower after me, it was over far too soon.

Selfishly, I wrapped up in one towel and used the other to tie up my hair, hoping he had more than two. I had no idea if his solar panels could support me drying my hair, despite the fact a hair dryer sat on the counter. His hair wouldn’t take as long to dry as mine.

Instead, when I exited, Grant’s charming voice rang out. “You can dry your hair if you want.”

I shouldn’t have looked. I flushed, noticing him notice me in nothing but a towel.

“It’s okay. I thought I’d sit next to the fire a while,” I said, swiftly walking away.

Never having spent much time by a fire, I hadn’t a clue how my hair would take to the heat. When I heard the door to the bathroom close, I bypassed the guest room and went directly to the fire. I sat before it and unwound the towel from my hair, curious how it would feel after a few minutes. I’d planned to be back in my room before he came out, but my phone rang.

“Hello,” I said.

“Jo.”

“Mom.”

We hadn’t spoken outside of texts since I’d arrived back in the States.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“With a friend.”

I had no idea why I was being so cryptic.

“Where? In Florida?” she probed.

“No, in Maryland.”

“Are you safe?”

“Yes.” It was time to divert the conversation. “What about you? How are you holding up?”

“Fine. Though it looks like I’ll be working from home for a while. The governor’s talking about closing the state.”

Things were becoming more bizarre by the day.

“Really?”

“Yes. This virus, whatever they are calling it, is spreading like wildfire.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

My mother and I might not be all that close, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love her to death.

“I’m fine. Your father has offered to bring me anything I need. And you both know I’m prepared. I’ve done my monthly shopping. I’ll be fine for a few weeks.”

Mom was an introvert with social anxiety that may or not be brought on by a mild case of autism if her family was to be believed. She didn’t like shopping and had been ordering online for years. She tended to buy in bulk to reduce the need to interact with anyone, including delivery people.

That wasn’t what troubled me.

“You talked to Christian.”

The casual way she dropped his name was as if she talked to him more frequently than I’d expected. Sure, he would let her know about Gran because it affected me. But I was an adult. Their conversations should have been limited at best at this point.

“Yes, of course,” she said matter-of-factly, like it was an odd question for me to ask.

“Mom, is there something going on between you and him?”

“No. He’s married. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, I know,” I rushed to say because Mom wasn’t a rule breaker. “It’s just I don’t want you to get hurt.”

As far as I knew, she hadn’t dated anyone else ever. Though she might have been a social introvert, Dad had broken down her barriers.


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