Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
I wasn’t weak.
I had discipline.
I could do this. I could keep my eyes to myself. Above his nipples. I could ignore his maybe-eight-pack and pretend I didn’t see all that endless, dark-golden skin.
Keep it together. Keep it fucking together, Gracie. You can do it.
Compared to everything else I’d been through, that should be easy-peasy.
I’d almost convinced myself of it when I opened my mouth and croaked, “Do you need me to help you with the shirt?”
Yeah, I wasn’t fooling fucking anybody.
The Defender’s expression didn’t change at all, and I didn’t think I was imagining the ice in his voice when he answered. “Yes.”
Oh boy.
Stepping close, I picked up the shirt and shook it out, keeping my eyes glued to the floor because I couldn’t look at his chest, and I sure couldn’t focus on the design either. Then, in a move I’d practiced so many times with my grandma, I tugged the biggest opening over his head, and then I picked up one wrist and paused.
His hands were red. Really, really red, like they’d been sunburnt to hell, even worse than his cheeks had been. Those were now a dark pink as well. His hands definitely hadn’t been like that earlier.
Trying not to make a face or ask a fucking question, I lifted it carefully and put it through the armhole, then did the same for the other. He helped, but not much, and that said a hell of a lot.
There was something seriously wrong if he was struggling to lift his arms to get dressed and feed himself.
But that wasn’t supposed to be any of my business. None of this was. Not his strength and not his suddenly red hands.
Much less the circumstances that had led up to him being here.
On my bed, about to give me a million-dollar view of his body.
I swallowed.
Dropping into a crouch, I tugged his shirt from where it was bunched up around muscular pecs—getting a good view of two brown nipples—down the most impressive stomach in the history of the world, and finally let it sit where the band of the sweatpants rested.
That memory was going to be burned into my brain for the rest of my life. The tight, hard muscles of his abs, on his obliques, along his ribs… all that smooth, tan skin….
I snapped out of it.
Where the hell had his suit gone?
Glancing up, he looked so… normal in my clothes. His dark hair was a tangled mess that was mostly tucked behind his ears. And there was the rest of that face and those roundish-shaped eyes….
The pants fortunately fit him fine, and then there was the shirt. I was pretty sure he hadn’t noticed the white cat with a crooked pink bow on one pointed ear. It was one of my biggest shirts.
Lifting my gaze, I met those dark purple eyes, and a feeling of dread tickled me right between the shoulder blades. “If you’re done… checking me out… can I get a wet towel to wipe off… with?”
The sound that gurgled in my throat reminded me of my old cat, Ryu, when he’d hack up a hairball.
Because…
Because…
Was he being sarcastic? Wasn’t he supposed to be… I don’t know… above that kind of thing?
Oh, God. Were they all like this in person? Were they all undercover smart-asses?
To be fair, I had been checking him out. I wasn’t going to deny it, but he didn’t need to call me out on it. I was sure everybody gawked at him. I pondered that unthinkable thought about the Trinity as I left the room and ducked into the bathroom for a couple washcloths that I held under the sink to wet and wring out.
Back in the room, I held them out to him.
He didn’t take them.
Was he being for real?
Of course he was. Don’t check me out but give me a sponge bath. Biting my cheek, I kneeled beside his leg and set one of the cloths on the bed. Then I took the other one and started from the top, just like I used to do with my grandparents. This sense of longing hit me full-strength in the heart right then.
I missed them.
They had been crazy strict and overprotective, but I missed them so much. Living with them, then eventually caring for them, hadn’t been easy, but I had done it with love, and I would have kept doing it for years and years.
My eyes started to water as I swept the cloth over The Defender’s forehead, then gently over his eyebrows and eyelids when he closed them, over one cheek then the other. I took my time with his chin and neck, going back up to wipe behind his ears. Folding the small towel, I moved it over his hair, noticing that it wasn’t greasy at all considering he hadn’t taken a shower since he’d landed here.