Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 18010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
He makes a noise deep in his chest. It’s a soft rumble that reminds me of a mountain cat purring. “You smell like me now.”
I grin, loving the way he’s holding me and the sticky feeling between my thighs. “Probably because you’ve been over every inch of me.”
“I’m gonna clean you up, get you some food, then fuck you again. How does that sound?” He presses a soft kiss to my head. This man says the filthiest things while being so tender. I love that about him. I think…I think I love Rogue.
“Sounds amazing,” I answer. I left extra cat food out for Lucky. I was afraid I’d end up home late thanks to the party. He’ll be fine on his own for the night.
Rogue carries me into his bathroom and starts the water. I think he’s going to leave after that, but he doesn’t. Instead, he gets in the shower, and we’re doing this. We’re showering together. It feels like something a couple would do. Is that what Rogue is thinking about?
After the shower, he helps me into an old flannel shirt and leads me into his kitchen. As we walk through the living room, a big yellow lab lifts her head from a fluffy dog bed in the corner. She eyes Rogue sleepily before letting out a yawn.
“Who is this?” I ask, approaching her slowly. I hold out my hand and let her sniff it. It’s crazy to me that people just reach for dogs to pet them. It’d be like hugging a stranger with no warning. Holding out your hand for a quick sniff is more like a handshake. It’s polite and gives the pet a chance to get to know you.
“That’s Daisy. Adopted her from a shelter before they could put her down,” he explains. “She’s having a little trouble getting around this week. Stepped on something outside. She’ll mend, but she’s supposed to be taking it easy.”
Daisy sniffs my hand then wags her tail enthusiastically. She looks up at me as if welcoming me to the cabin.
“Hey, Daisy. You’re a pretty girl, aren’t you?”
She licks my hand in reply.
I beam at Rogue. “I think we’re friends now.”
After hanging with Daisy for a few minutes, my stomach rumbles and Rogue takes me to the kitchen.
He pulls out a stool at his kitchen island and picks me up, setting me down gently. My body heats from his touch. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone show as much care and concern for me as he does.
“You don’t have a Christmas tree,” I point out. Sure, Rogue doesn’t strike me as the type of man to go all out for the holidays. But he seems to have enough festive spirit. I mean, he played Santa Claus for a bunch of sick kids.
He waves a hand. “Something I normally do with Mackenzie, but she’s not here this year.”
“So, you’ll do it when she gets back?” I ask, wondering what she’ll think about the fact that I slept with her dad. I really didn’t think about how this could turn out so badly. What if she hates me? She’s besties with Ginger who could easily take her side. I’ll be alone and friendless again.
“She’s probably not making it back in time for Christmas. She and Ace are stuck out in a blizzard.” He opens the door of his fridge before calling over his shoulder, “Seems I got left alone for the holiday.”
My stomach drops. Is that what I am? Am I the stand-in girl? Just someone keeping Rogue company until his friend and daughter return from their vacation?
7
SUSIE
“I’ve got a cheesy meatball casserole or shepherd’s pie casserole. Which do you want?”
My stomach is churning, but I force a bright smile when Rogue turns back from the fridge. He’s looking at me expectantly, so I manage to force out, “Meatballs, please.”
He grins and heats the food. When he’s done, he slides two heaping plates on the island and takes a seat next to me. He’s so close that our thighs are pressing together. I wish it could be like this every night. I wish I had someone to come home too. Since I don’t want to be thinking these thoughts, I say, “This is good. Does Mackenzie cook for you often?”
Rogue chokes over his water and has to thump his chest to swallow it. “I love Mackenzie. She’s the best part of my life, and if this is ever repeated, I’ll deny it to my grave. My daughter’s cooking is a human rights violation.”
I chuckle. “Then who made this?”
He gestures to his plate with his fork. “I did.”
I frown. “You don’t strike me as the type to like cooking.”
“Never did. My wife—my late wife—loved it, especially casseroles. This is her recipe. Guess I started doing it to feel like she was still with me. Turns out, I don’t mind cooking so much. Every week or two, I go over and stock Mackenzie’s fridge. Well, I did. Haven’t since she got married.”