Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
The door creaks open, and I turn, my heart skipping a beat as she steps inside. She’s got this softness about her, a way of bringing warmth into a room without even trying. Today, she’s wrapped in a light sweater, her floral scent mixing with the crisp mountain air. I’ve never met anyone like her—someone so sweet yet so strong. And as much as I try to keep my distance, it’s getting harder by the minute.
“Hey,” Perry says, her voice tentative, like she’s still unsure about this arrangement.
“Hey,” I reply, my voice rougher than intended. “How was town?”
“Quiet.” She gives a small smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I picked up a few things from the shop, and some pastries for dessert.”
“Good,” I grunt, stepping closer. She looks up at me, and the air between us seems to thicken. “You’re safe here, Perry. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
She takes a deep breath, her gaze flicking to the large stone fireplace before meeting mine again. “Are you sure this is okay?” she asks, her voice soft, with a hint of hesitation. “I don’t want to be in your way.”
“You’re not in my way,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “You’re safer here. That’s what matters.”
Her eyes linger on me for a moment longer, and I can see the internal struggle. She’s fiercely independent, that much is clear, but I also know she’s scared. And even if she won’t admit it, the tension in her shoulders tells me everything I need to know. She’s been looking over her shoulder for too long.
I want to tell her she doesn’t have to worry anymore, that I’ll handle everything. But the words get stuck in my throat, so I settle for a nod toward the stairs. “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
She follows me upstairs, and every step feels like a test of my control. The closer we get to the bedroom, the tighter my chest gets. I push open the door to the primary bedroom, gesturing toward the bed with one hand. “This is yours,” I say, my voice low. “I’ll be across the hall.”
Perry looks at the bed, then back at me. Her gaze lingers longer than usual, and for a second, I think she might say something. Instead, she just nods, brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. That small movement makes my heart hammer in my chest. I shouldn’t be thinking about her this way—not now, when she’s vulnerable, when she needs protection more than anything else. But I can’t help it.
I step back, clearing my throat. “I’ll get started on dinner,” I mutter, needing to put some distance between us before I lose my grip on the situation.
Perry’s soft footsteps follow me downstairs, and soon, we’re in the kitchen. The space is small, the counters cluttered with mismatched utensils and a few cast iron pans. It’s not fancy, but it works. Perry moves beside me, gathering ingredients from a bag she brought with her. Her hands are delicate, but I’ve already seen how strong they are. She knows her way around the kitchen, chopping vegetables with a precision that surprises me.
“So,” Perry starts, a teasing lilt in her voice. “You’re not half bad with a knife. But can you handle a full Greek dinner?”
I smirk, feeling the tension between us shift slightly. “I may not know my way around fancy meals, but I know how to eat. That’s gotta count for something.”
She laughs—a soft, melodic sound that fills the space. I glance at her from the corner of my eye, watching the way her face lights up. It’s dangerous, how easy it is to get lost in that smile.
“Good thing I like feeding people then,” she says, her tone light and playful. “Guess we’re a good match.”
The word hangs in the air between us, and my heart skips a beat. She’s not wrong. We are a good match, in ways that go beyond food. As much as I try to resist the pull toward her, it’s becoming a losing battle. Perry’s got this way of melting the defenses I’ve spent years building, and I’m not sure I know how to stop it.
Dinner comes together quickly, the two of us working in easy silence, interrupted only by the occasional quip or playful glance. It feels natural, as if we’ve been doing this for years instead of just a day. The thought of her here, in my space, fills me with a sense of contentment I haven’t felt in… hell, I don’t even know how long.
We eat together at the small wooden table in the corner of the kitchen. Perry chats about her flower shop, the customers she’s met, the quirky characters in Copper Mountain. I listen, nodding here and there, but mostly I just watch her. The way she talks with her hands, the way her eyes light up when she’s excited. She’s a breath of fresh air in a world that’s been nothing but iron and stone for too long.