Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Yes,” I said, getting a little chuckle out of Colter.
“Sounds good. I’ll order… look at your dog,” he said, nodding toward the doorway.
I moved toward him, glancing into his room to find that Sugar had claimed one of the queen beds in Colter’s room. She was sprawled out, legs in the air, jowls wiggling as she dreamed.
“Making up for all the time in the cramped truck,” I said. “Why didn’t you take the room with the king? You’re taller than me. We should switch. Especially since my dog is all over your bed.”
“Nah, we’re good,” he said, then silenced any further argument by choosing to actually call the Chinese food place. Like an old person. “Twenty minutes,” he said. “I’ll run down to the truck and get anything else we might need for the night or morning.”
He was gone before I could offer to help.
Though, let’s be real, I wasn’t really going to do that.
It was disorienting to go from someone who never asked for help, who adamantly refused it when it was offered, to someone who chose to sit on my ass while someone else dragged my stuff up to my hotel room for me.
I chose to let myself think it was simply because Colter would argue about it and I wasn’t in the mood for that.
But when there was a little kick to the door, prompting me to get up and unlock it, and I opened the door to see him there, yeah, I knew it was nothing to do with arguing.
It was him.
Some part of me seemed to want him to… do things for me.
I wouldn’t pretend to understand it.
But it was just… nice. I guess.
As was sharing a meal with someone, engaging in more small talk than eating, covering everything from shows and movies we loved to club stories. And it seemed like everything in between.
Colter, it seemed, wasn’t like other men I’d shared time with in my past. The kind who didn’t think to ask questions to keep a conversation going.
Colter was full of questions.
By the time we finished eating, my damn jaw hurt.
I wasn’t sure the last time I talked so much.
Once the food was cleaned up, I dragged a grumbly Sugar off the bed for one more quick potty break. Which Colter, of course, felt compelled to accompany us on.
I liked it more than I should have.
I didn’t even bring my damn gun.
But when we got back to our rooms, Sugar bounded through to Colter’s and got back on her bed.
“Girl, come on. We gotta go to bed. In here.”
“We can leave the door open just enough for her to slip in and out if she wants.”
It was something that would normally make me stiffen. A strange man with access to my bedroom while I was unconscious? Absolutely not.
But Colter had more than proved himself trustworthy. And I really did want to get some sleep.
So the door stayed open.
The problem was, I couldn’t sleep.
I didn’t know if it was the unfamiliar bed, the strange noises of strangers in rooms around me, or the anticipation of staking out my old clubhouse, but I tossed and turned, getting more frustrated by the moment.
Finally, I got up, staring at the opening connecting the two rooms, and deciding what I really needed was Sugar.
I always slept better when she was in the bed. It was like she calmed my nervous system. Or maybe it was something to do with how she trapped me with her body so I had no choice but to be still until, eventually, I just passed out.
Either way, I was going to see if I could get her to come to my room. Or maybe even curl up in the bed with her.
I couldn’t be going into a stakeout the next day without sleep.
I tiptoed through the room, finding Colter had left his TV on with the volume on low, likely to drown out the unfamiliar sounds. Though I wasn’t sure why it would matter to him, since he had to be used to sleeping through noisy things—both in the military and the clubhouse.
When I got to the extra bed, I found Sugar sprawled diagonally across it, all four legs stretched to the max, her back arched at an angle that would make me walk funny for a week.
“Sugar,” I whispered, petting her head. “Come to bed.” She didn’t even flinch. “Then scoot over.”
“Babe,” Colter’s voice called, soft but thick with sleep. “You okay?”
I glanced over.
And almost instantly regretted it.
Because the man was asleep with the blankets at his lap. And bare from the waist up.
It was like a kick to the gut.
It was one thing to know a guy was built like that. It was a complete other to actually see it. I could probably bury a finger between his ab muscles, for God’s sake.