Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“That’s not what you meant by wounded.”
Now he was perceptive? She dragged a hand through her unruly hair. “You’re worried about me? Is that why you’ve gone into overprotective beast mode?”
His lips twitched again. “Beast mode? That’s a new one.”
She stared out at the trees, letting the quiet stretch.
Christian was just the type of guy to rescue wounded animals, and no doubt, he wanted to help her. Somehow sensed she needed it. Even if he admitted he had some kind of interest in her—and that would be an ego boost—what were they supposed to do about it?
He hadn’t said anything like that, anyway. Not really. Christian didn’t strike her as the type to flirt just to pass time. Maybe he had a compulsion to fix broken things. Maybe he thought she was one of them.
She wasn’t broken and didn’t need rescuing. Yet, sleeping in his arms had been the first decent rest she’d gotten in way too long. That wasn’t nothing.
“You’re in a mess,” he said finally. “I don’t understand it, but I want to help you out.” He looked out at the drenched woods.
Yeah. That’s what she figured. He’d help anybody he thought to be in danger. It wasn’t about her at all. She wasn’t the most worldly woman, but she knew enough to spot danger when it came wrapped in quiet comfort. Men like Christian didn’t stick. They didn’t belong in town life or behind tavern counters. And they sure didn’t fall for women who could balance the books, handle a bar brawl, and still patch a quilt at the end of a night.
She turned toward him, closing the lid of the Styrofoam container. If she needed to scare him off, she knew how. Probably too well. “Listen, Christian. If you want to make a go of it with me, you just say the word. But I’m telling you right now. I want home, hearth, and babies, and I want them now.”
He didn’t blink. Didn't even twitch. That surprised her.
She smiled, slow and deliberate. “I’m not lying to you.” And she wasn’t. Not technically. She did want home, hearth, and babies. Just not with Jarod. God, definitely not with Jarod. But she wasn’t about to say that out loud. This wasn’t about Jarod. This was about watching Christian take the hit and flinch.
Only he didn’t.
That irritated her a little. She sipped her chai again, finding it still nicely warm. “Christian,” she said, drawing his name out a little, “you’d be an interesting life. Chaotic. Loud. Probably plenty wild.”
He gave nothing back.
“But let’s be honest,” she went on, “you have zero intention of settling down. I’ve never pictured you that way.” She set the cup down on the porch deck. “And when I found out you took that AWT job? It tracked.”
The AWT flew into nowhere, found poachers, tracked down traffickers, shut it all down and vanished like ghosts. The few she’d met didn’t have homes. Or families. No PTA meetings or minivans. Just boots, planes, and the next mission.
“So here’s the deal,” she said. “Either make a plan with me and give me a bunch of babies, or butt out of my life.” She watched him now, waiting, keeping her expression calm and pleasant. Like she’d just offered him a sandwich. It was the only way to get him to back off, and he definitely would.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, and darn if her lips didn’t start tingling like he’d touched them. “What if I say yes?” he asked.
She snorted. Couldn’t help it. “Then I’d fall off this seat in a dead faint.”
That earned her the smallest hint of a smile, but it didn’t go anywhere. Yeah, a woman could get addicted to that almost smile. “You’re not looking to settle down, Christian. Don’t lie.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You playing games, baby?”
Baby? Seriously? He’d called her that at the fire, but she’d been focused on survival. Now she focused on him. That endearment should not make her go gooey inside. “No. Are you?”
His gaze lifted, locked with hers. Steady. “Don’t ever play games with me, Amka. I don’t lose, and I don’t take prisoners.”
What did that mean? Her mouth dried out immediately. She’d wanted to push him off balance, but now she wasn’t so sure who’d lost their footing. “I’m not playing.” She sipped her latte again to stall. “I need you to back off.”
“Too tempting?”
“Yeah.” The word left before she could soften it.
He felt so solid next to her. “So you really want the whole marriage, babies, family thing?”
“Of course I do.” Her spine straightened. “Don’t you? Someday?”
He leaned back slowly, jaw tight, eyes unreadable. “Never thought about it.”
Yeah. That’s what she figured. She took another long drink. The latte had cooled a bit but still held a punch of power with caffeine and sugar. “Well,” she said, keeping her voice light, “I’ve appreciated the overprotective caveman act. Really. But I’ve got to get to work.”