Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
I’m stepping out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my body when a whisp of fur scurries between my legs, almost scaring me half to death. I almost think my imagination got the best of me until I keep feeling it and look down.
“Well, aren’t you the prettiest thing ever. You must be Jasmine.” I bend down. Her tiger-striped head tips up, giving me the sign to give her all the pets in the world. While I’m giving Jasmine scratches, I hear the tell-tale sign of Nala, her nails clicking on the hardwood floors, and I’m sure both of my hands will be full before I so much as think of getting any sleep.
CHAPTER 8
Clay
It didn’t take me long to get Clementine’s van secured, pulled up the long driveway, and stashed in the barn. There’s enough room for it and the tractor. The side-by-side will have to stay where it is, near the house. Might not be a bad idea anyway when I need to make rounds once I get a few hours of sleep. I veered toward the barn to check on the horses, chickens, and goats. They were good. Annoyed their sleep got interrupted. Afterward, I went to check the water troughs and to do a head count of the cows. They were all using the lean-to building for shelter. It’s clear I’ve spoilt them, and they’d probably be inside with the rest of my animals. The only reason they aren’t is because I haven’t been able to clean out the rest of the area to be safe and secure without causing themselves any harm. My other building doesn’t do much in the shelter area. It’s got a roof, walls, and a sliding door. That’s about it. A shit ton of boards are missing, and it’s got a whole lot of nails that are sharp as shit should you brush along them. Believe me, I’ve had my fair share of scuffles with them.
“Looks like Nala listened and stayed put,” I say to myself. I’m covered in snow from the top of my head to my boots. Amos, Trey, or Ryland didn’t warn me that the white fluffy shit falling from the sky creates more mud than you’ll ever be prepared for. I may have traveled the world, but not once have I lived in a place that had every season you can imagine. “Hopefully, Jazzy girl found her way inside, too.”
I head inside, landing in the mudroom with a laundry room built in. I take off my hat, toss it on top of the dryer, and step out of my boots while tackling my jacket. Everything I can hang up goes on a hook to dry, while the boots go on a drying rack, a gift from Mrs. Johnson as a housewarming present. My shirt is tossed in the hamper as well as my socks. The jeans will have to stay on until I’ve showered and find something appropriate to wear around the house that won’t have my dick at attention. Clementine has the damn thing permanently hard. Climbing inside her car, seeing her things and getting a feel for her, did nothing to calm down my need to have a hell of a lot more from the beauty that’s in my bed.
I turn the light off before opening the other door, which leads to the kitchen. When I left, I made sure the light above the stove would be lit to help guide my way to the bathroom downstairs. I’d put a plan in place to use that shower and sleep on the couch tonight. I sure as fuck didn’t think about the clothes I would need after my shower. My house may not be so clean you could eat off the floor, and it sure as hell isn’t put together in an orderly fashion either, but it’s not messy where piles of clothes are everywhere, dirt is caked on the floor, and dishes aren’t done. I’ve learned in my years to pick up after myself and clean one room a day.
“Shhhh.” Nala lets out a low growl I can hear from the kitchen. She’s not greeting me. Wherever she is, she’s staying there. I make my way closer to where Nala is staking her claim. Whatever is going on is out of the norm, and while she’s taking a liking to Clementine, you’d think she’d be upstairs with her instead of down here in the living room.
“Nala,” I say sternly when she starts edging closer to the couch. I swear to God if one of my animals brought something into this house only to let it lose, I’ll be the one growling. Finally, she calms down once she realizes it’s me. You’d think she’s protecting the heard with the way she’s acting.
“That makes more sense,” I mutter under my breath when I see the raven-haired woman snuggled into the couch with a stolen pillow from my bed and the blankets piled on top of her. Clementine’s chest rises and falls, lips slightly parted, a slight redness to her cheeks, probably from being out in the too-fucking-cold weather earlier tonight. The last place I wanted her is on the couch. It’s the most uncomfortable thing I have in this place. It came with the house, and between getting the land fixed up, shopping for a couch has been the last thing on my mind. The springs on this damn thing are enough to make you rethink so much as sitting on a cushion, let alone lying on it.