Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“Who said I’m going to watch you?” he snaps. “I can keep my eyes to myself.”
I sigh heavily. “I know you wouldn’t gawk or anything, but you could accidentally glance over.”
“I won’t.”
My hot bubble bath is standing by and it’s been so long since I bathed that I can smell myself, making his stubbornness an even sharper thorn in my side. “Would you want to get naked in front of someone you just met a week ago?”
He shrugs. “I’ll take my clothes off right now if it’ll make you feel better.”
“It wouldn’t.” Why is he so exasperating? “You’ve gotten naked in front of hundreds of people. Or maybe thousands? But I’m modest and I’ve only been naked in front of like...two people. Can you understand that?”
A grin tugs at his lips. “Thousands?”
“Come on, you know I’m not far off.”
“I mean, if you’re counting all the guys who have seen me naked in the locker room...it’s still not in the thousands. I’m not the manwhore you seem to think I am.”
“I just want to take a bath.” There’s a pleading note in my tone.
His expression turns serious. “I’ll sit on the bed with my back to you the entire time.”
I feel so awful and the bath looks so inviting that I give up. “Fine. But if I catch you looking at me, you’re sleeping in the outhouse tonight.”
He puts his palms up. “I’m not going to look, Trin.”
There’s something intimate about the way he shortens my name. We’ve gotten to know each other well in a short amount of time. Facing death with someone quickly shows you who they really are, and I’ve never had that experience with anyone else.
I’d never admit it out loud, but it would secretly thrill me to know Lincoln even considered checking me out while I was undressing. I guess being stranded in a cabin with a caveman has shown me that cavemen aren’t without their good points.
Like muscles. And tenacity. Lincoln is undeniably physically attractive, but his concern for me is also very appealing. I have no doubt that if I felt like staying in bed all the time, he’d bring me food, help me to the outhouse, keep the fire going and look for help with no complaints.
He’s a real man, and he’s kept his word on everything else, so I trust that he won’t peek at me while I’m undressing, either.
My gaze stays fixed on his broad back as I quickly slide out of my leggings and underwear. I unbutton the flannel, hesitating for a second before taking it off and then unfastening my bra and dropping it to the floor, too.
When I step into the water, my happy sigh has a twinge of a moan in it. Sitting down hurts my aching body, but once I’m settled in, it feels divine. The tub is deep and perfectly shaped, covering me with bubbles and hot water to my neck once I sink down and lay my head on the edge.
“I could live here,” I say, closing my eyes. “Thank you for this, Linc.”
“I’m glad you like it. Don’t drain it when you’re done; I’m going to get in there.”
Oh. My brows shoot up. We’re going to share the bath. Well, not exactly share it, but he’s going to use the same water. It’s a practical choice, but it feels...close, like something a couple would do.
“Will it stay hot?” I ask him.
“Wh—uh, what?”
“The water? Will it stay hot for you?”
“Oh. Don’t worry about that. I can heat it up again and all I want to do is wash off.”
I perch my feet on the end of the tub, bubbles covering more than half of my exposed skin. “You should really consider sitting in some bubbles for a while. It’s so relaxing.”
He shakes his head. “I just want to wash up.”
I’m a terrible person for teasing him, but I do. There’s a note of breathiness in my voice as I say, “It feels so good.”
Lincoln’s back goes rigid on the bed. He doesn’t respond.
The more I look at the lines of his broad shoulders and carved arm muscles, the more I want him to not sleep with his back to me tonight. I’d love to lie in the crook of his arm, feel his warmth and snuggle against him.
I crave the comfort of him. It’s lousy feeling so sick, and being in his arms would help. Unless...he’s taken.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I ask him.
“What? Why are you asking me that?”
He’s flustered. Mr. I’m In Charge Here is flustered by my question. It makes me smile.
“Just making conversation,” I say lightly. “What else is there to do around here?”
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“When’s the last time you did have one?”
He exhales heavily. “I don’t know, like a year and a half ago.”
“Wow, that’s a long time.”