Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
“You can… you’ll protect her, right?”
His beautiful gray eyes stared back at hers, expression inscrutable. Shit. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked about pack business. But jeez. She hoped he would help that woman. He rubbed his face. “If she asks for my protection, it’s hers. You’ll notice she didn’t ask. She might be afraid she can’t trust me—that I’ll rat her out to her mate, whoever the abusive asshole might be, or she might not think I have enough power behind me to protect her.”
He started the truck and pulled away from the curb. “You shouldn’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a fucking hero. Because I’m not. And I like that look on you too damn much.”
Her breath hitched. Cody wasn’t looking at her, but the energy between them sparked.
He was a hero, though. He’d signed up to put his life before hers, without ever having seen her. And now he was ready to protect this other woman, who he didn’t even know.
Unable to think of anything to say, she kept her mouth shut, ignoring the buzzing traveling through her body just at the nearness of Cody.
8
Cody parked the Ducati Streetfighter in front of his mountain cabin. Considering he had Melissa with him, he should have driven to Woodland Park in the truck, but the day was too beautiful. The open air ride through the mountain pass of Highway 24 was glorious, especially because he could bypass the jam-up of cars on the bike.
Choosing to ride the Ducati had nothing to do with the pleasure of having a certain beautiful redhead’s thighs straddling his hips, arms around his waist. Nor had it been about shoving his hellion ways in her face again. Right.
It might have had something to do with not thinking himself capable of sharing the cab of the truck with her for the trip, inhaling her scent and suffering through small talk. He wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes without giving into the need to shove the seat back and tell her where he’d like her mouth to go. Especially with the moon full and his beast so close to the surface.
Melissa unclasped her hands from their hold around his waist. He immediately missed having her body notched against his back. He expected her to look annoyed about having her hair mussed or the trip being too frightening—she’d held him in a death grip the entire time—but she wore a smile when she pulled off the helmet. When she gave her auburn waves a toss, sending them cascading over her slender shoulders, he distinctly heard the chicka-bow-wow play in the background of his mind.
Her eyes weren’t on him, though. She walked toward the cabin with eagerness plastered all over her face. “Wow. When you said cabin, I wasn’t picturing a full-on mountain retreat.”
One corner of his lips kicked up at her girlish enthusiasm. He hadn’t been prepared for this reaction. She skipped up the steps while he unloaded the food from the saddlebags. “When was this built?”
“I finished it last year.”
She whirled, her mouth open, her full lips forming a little O. “You built this? Yourself?”
He tried to ignore the cascade of pride her awe provoked. “Yeah.” He reached past her and hit the code on the security pad to unlock the door, somehow managing not to shove her against it and press his ever-eager cock against her lush, jean-clad ass.
“Oh, my God,” she breathed, rushing in the moment he pushed open the door. “This is so beautiful.” Her gaze swept over the oversized living room as she charged forward, checking out all the rooms. “I love the vaulted ceilings and the blend of rustic with high-tech. It’s just like a CJ Steele home. This is incredible. What’s the square footage, three thousand?”
“Thirty-two hundred.” He didn’t mean to, but he dropped the saddlebags with their clothes and food and followed Melissa as she rushed through the cabin.
“Four bedroom, two bath?”
“That’s right.”
“And this? Where did you find these carved supports?”
“I carved them.” His throat tightened. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much what she thought of the place.
“Who made this sink? It’s incredible.”
The sink was a hand-thrown and fired clay pottery beauty in shades of ochre and rust. “A friend of mine makes those.”
“Does Mr. Steele use these in any of his houses?”
A shard of irritation jabbed him. Her hero worship of ‘Mr. Steele’ was so at odds with her condescension toward him. Some stubborn part of him needed her to respect him, the guy standing in front of her, not the real estate success she worshipped.
“Yeah, these sinks are in a few of his properties.”
“Cody.” She turned.
He fucking loved hearing his name on her lips, although he loved it more when she was screaming it at the height of a climax. He schooled his features, hoping to hide the dirty thoughts looping through his mind on a constant playback. “Yeah?”