Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
I reach out and take her hand in mine. “Let’s go get you cleaned up first.”
“Where? Let me guess – you live in a beachside cave catching fish for a living,” she teases. “No, it’s okay. They have running water at the resort…”
I grin widely, delighted with this snarky, unexpected woman.
“My home is a bit nicer than a cave,” I assure her as I scoop her up without warning into my arms. “Maybe it’s not a lot nicer, but it’s nicer.”
“Does it have running water?” she asks, giggling as she slings her arms around my neck.
“It does,” I affirm in a deep rumble. “And a stove too. Even refrigeration.”
She widens her eyes in mock-surprise.
“Oh wow, then I’ll have to check it out. But only men whose names I know have the right to carry me across picturesque beaches.”
I raise an eyebrow but don’t put her down. “I’m Braxton, although most people call me Brax.” I incline my head toward her in a dramatic swish.
“Brax,” the beautiful brunette repeats quietly. “I’m Morgan.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Morgan,” I say with over-the-top politeness.
Morgan giggles. “I think we did more than just meet, if you get my drift.”
I chuckle. “Whatever it was, I think we might need to repeat it at my place.”
Morgan’s deep blush is bewitching to behold, and my arms tighten around her curvy form because now, I know without a doubt that I need to give this woman every single inch of me … knot included.
5
Morgan
I can’t help but gasp as I stand in the living room of Braxton’s apartment. I try to take it all in without looking too overwhelmed but I’m failing.
The place is the complete opposite of a beachside cave, and I’m almost too dumbstruck to remember my manners. What was I thinking, asking if it has running water?
After all, the massive apartment is a luxury abode. It’s decorated in an eclectic combination of beach style and country comfort. The furniture is tasteful but opulent: a brown leather couch in the center of the living area appears to be hand-stitched and custom-made. A raw-edge wooden coffee table runs the length of the couch and rests on dark metal legs. Floor-to-ceiling shelves house an impressive collection of books and intricate knickknacks, ranging from multi-colored shells to carefully arranged feathers to a fancy telescope.
I run my fingers along the edge of one of the shelves, my eyes resting first on what appears to be a first edition Moby Dick and shifting to a delicate pile of birds’ eggs.
“Who are you?” I ask with an uneasy laugh.
But Brax’s warm smile sets my nerves at ease. “I’m just me,” he says simply enough, crossing the room to join me as he pulls on a well-worn t-shirt. “I see you’ve found my collection of wayfaring treasures.”
I smile up at him although my mind is in a complete swirl over everything that’s happened over the last few hours.
“The birds’ eggs…” I murmur, pointing at the delicate nest.
Brax grins once more. “I found the nest on the beach, untended. It happens from time to time. Even bird parents can forget the location of their chicks sometimes. So I brought the eggs back and incubated them. A couple actually hatched, and I handed the baby birds over to a rehab facility to be reintegrated into the wild. But the intact eggs, I kept. They won’t ever hatch, so it’s okay.”
He shrugs, as if such a story were the most normal tale in the world.
I shake my head, growing more baffled by the moment. “I know we just met, but I feel like I may have judged you a bit too quickly.”
Brax shrugs those broad shoulders and shoots me a grin. “Don’t worry about it. There’s not much to know about me anyways,” he drawls but I hear something in his tone that draws out my curiosity.
“Can I look around some more?” I ask, eager to learn more about this sexy, complicated man.
“I don’t mind,” Brax agrees easily. “But then you’d better get cleaned up.”
I nod and plod toward the kitchen. Here, the appliances are ultra-modern but understated. Each piece—the stove, fridge, coffee maker— have the kind of quiet luxury that doesn’t need a name stamped on it just to prove their worth. Overhead, skylights reveal a pink-orange sky fading into blue.
Brax follows me around, his fingers hooked casually into the loops on his shorts. He watches me but stays quiet, letting me explore as if he were a scientist trying to understand my every move.
I glance quickly at a few other rooms: a dining room that boasts the same kind of raw edge table as the living room; a large balcony covered against the elements and filled with soft chairs and dozens of plants. Another room stacked high with more books, a desk, and what appears to be lab equipment.