Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
I’m huddled on the ground, feeling a little lost amid my thoughts, as Jake comes over and takes my arms, pulling me to my feet. “We haven’t eaten,” he says, taking us off track to issues that are far more trivial, yet much more appealing, despite my appetite having run for the hills.
I don’t tell him that, though. It’ll hint to the sick feeling I have rolling round in my tummy, and of which I’m trying my hardest to ignore. “Then let’s eat.” I force a smile and cherish the one I get in return.
“Sit.” He pulls me down to the blanket and starts rummaging through the basket, eventually pulling out a platter of cold meats and a basket of bread rolls.
“Where did all of this come from?” I ask.
“I have someone who stocks the cupboards for me. A local farmer based about thirty miles that way.” He nods past me, but I don’t look. I won’t see a farm thirty miles away even if I wasn’t surrounded by trees. “He has a little farmers’ shop.”
“And he delivers from thirty miles?”
“For me, yes.” Jake smiles, offering me the plate and a fork. “The beef has been hung for thirty days. It’s divine.”
I help myself to the beef. “Does he know you?”
He gives me a look as he loads his own plate. “He knows me but he doesn’t know me,” he says, making me laugh on the inside. That makes two of us.
We eat in relative silence. It doesn’t bother me, because it gives me the opportunity to discreetly watch him. This place isn’t the kind of house or location that I would have matched up to Jake. It doesn’t suit him, but then, it does, in a weird kind of way. It’s secluded. Just like he is. What’s certain, though, is his peace. He’s mellow. Calm. And the longer I watch him, the more relaxed and serene he appears.
I force myself to eat what I’ve put on my plate. There’s no signs of any green or salad, and I’m wondering if that was consciously chosen on his part. I shouldn’t care. I haven’t got another shoot until a week from Friday. Plenty of time to worry about avoiding carbs. I’ve gone without them for so long, that tiny roll has stuffed me. I feel fit to burst.
Moving my plate to the side, I fall to my back and stare up at the sky. “I love it here,” I declare to the clouds, hearing Jake’s light laugh as he clears my plate.
“So do I.” He appears above my naked body, towering high. With a gun in his hand.
My eyes stick to it, the black weapon resting easily in his grasp, pointing at the ground.
“Is it loaded?” I ask, pushing myself up onto my elbows.
“It’s always loaded.” A slight shift of his grip has a chamber falling out of the handle into his spare hand. “Want to try?”
My eyes bug. “Try firing a gun?”
“Yes.” He grins wickedly. “It’s a massive rush.”
“Okay!” I’m up like lightning, weirdly excited by the prospect. “What do I need to do?”
He’s delighting in my enthusiasm. “This here is the magazine.” He holds up the black rectangular thing.
I frown at him. “Magazine?”
“Not your kind of magazine.” He rolls his eyes on a mild chuckle. “It holds the bullets.” He slips it into the bottom of the handle and smacks it, locking it into place on a thrilling sound of metal on metal.
The sound isn’t the only thrilling thing. Jake looks hot as fuck handling it in only his jeans. I swallow, trying to moisten my suddenly dry mouth.
“Here.” He hands me the gun, handle first, and I reach forward tentatively, taking it from his grasp as I hold my breath, feeling all kinds of forbidden resting in my hand.
“It’s heavy,” I muse, flexing my grip.
“It’s one of the lightest handguns on the market.” He circles and comes in behind me, pushing his back close to mine. “You’re a true vision, bollock naked and with my gun in your hand.”
He pushes his groin into my lower back, making me jerk. The gun starts to shake lightly in my grasp, and my breasts are pushing forward as my back lengthens. “You shouldn’t do that when I’m holding a loaded weapon.”
“Easy now.” He laughs, reaching round me and steadying my wrist. “I want you to aim for that tree over there.”
“I can’t shoot a tree!” I object, horrified. “They’re living, breathing things!”
“In that case, they’ve just got the show of their lives.” He laughs again, the sound so lovely I can’t possibly scowl at his quick quip. “It’s already dead, angel.” Jake releases me and points to some branches above. I follow his pointing hand and spot the signs of hollows in the trunk. “Has been for years.”
“Oh.” I shrug my shoulders and lift the gun, pointing it at the center of the trunk, one eye closing as I try to aim. I feel my lips twist in concentration, determined to hit my target. “Do I just pull the trigger?”