Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I came to Montana to hide. Work is a necessary evil to keep myself afloat. My savings won’t last forever, and I don’t know how long I’ll be here. Drooling over mountain men with forearms that could probably snap a tree in half wasn’t part of the plan.
I am still living with them while my chimney is being cleaned by some local they assure me regularly deals with this kind of thing.
All of which means that for now, I am eating, sleeping, and working under their roof. It’s no big deal, except for the fact that it absolutely is. They are kind, funny, and so absurdly attractive that it’s borderline unfair. And the way they move together, like an unspoken rhythm runs between them, is hypnotic. Unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.
Boone lets out a low, frustrated grunt, and when I refocus on him, he is suddenly hammering away at his keyboard, his fingers flying a million miles a minute. Not wanting to interrupt, I find myself staring at his shoulders instead. They look carved from granite, so I roll my own to shake off the thought, pain zinging across my upper back at the movement.
“Are you okay?” Boone’s deep voice cuts through my spiral. “You made a face just now like you’re in pain.”
“I’m fine,” I lie smoothly, wondering how the heck he even caught my wince. I was looking right at him, and he definitely wasn’t staring back at me. Yet somehow, he sees it anyway. He isn’t buying my lie for a second.
“You winced, and if you keep moving your neck the way you just did, you’re going to strain something.”
“It’s an occupational hazard. My last boss didn’t provide ergonomic seating. He didn’t provide any seating at all, actually.”
He stands and I nearly swallow my tongue when he comes around my desk. Before I can even ask what he’s doing, his hands are on my shoulders, big, warm, and ridiculously steady. My entire body freezes at first contact, but moments later, I melt right into the chair.
“Jesus,” I mutter before I can stop myself. “That feels incredible.”
He doesn’t say anything at first, just working his thumbs along the tight muscles at the base of my neck, all quiet focus and patient strength. Finally, when I’m half-convinced I’ve turned into a puddle of goo, he asks, “Better?”
A gurgle that definitely doesn’t count as an answer escapes me, but Boone seems to understand. He chuckles, the sound a little rougher than normal. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Heat crawls up my neck and I curse the fact that I’m blushing like a teenager. Focus, Roxie. You’re supposed to be hiding, not flirting. But damn if this mountain isn’t full of temptation that smells good and looks better.
A knock on the doorframe makes me jump. Boone’s hands still for a beat, warm and heavy on my shoulders. Chance steps in, holding a mug of something with steam curling up from the surface.
“Cocoa,” he explains as he walks in. “I thought you might be able to use something sweet after spending a few hours with Boone.”
If I hadn’t already been melting, I sure would be now. All my life, no one has ever brought hot cocoa just because, and especially not one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen.
As I am beginning to realize is normal for him, he wears light gray sweats that barely cling to his hips. His feet are bare. A fitted black T-shirt covers a torso I haven’t seen but assume is as ripped as the rest of him.
Even with an actual job, the guy works out like he’s getting paid for it and it shows. His tall frame is hard and steeped in purpose, his dark blonde hair kept short enough not to get in his way, but still long enough on top for a girl to grab onto.
As if he hears the thought, those full, male-model-esque lips curve into a slight smirk, his hazel eyes lighting up. Everything about him screams military, from his posture to the way he moves to those eyes that always seem to be scanning. Assessing.
“What’s going on here?” he asks mildly, those eyes skipping past Boone’s hands on my shoulders and coming to rest on mine. That amused twinkle is still in them when he hands over the cocoa. “It looks like I’m missing a good time.”
“The best,” I murmur, taking it from him and nearly groaning out loud at the rich scent of chocolate I draw in on my next breath. “Thanks for this. It smells amazing.”
“Secret recipe.” He winks, watching as I bring the mug to my lips and take my first sip of heaven.
A smile that makes my stomach flip spreads across his face at whatever look I’m wearing. “That good, huh?”
“Unfairly amazing,” I say. “It’s like an orgasm in a cup.”