Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Should have been odd hearing the word baby spoken with such easy affection by the man I’d fantasized about for half my life.
I was more stunned by how normal it felt. How right.
I yanked off Trace’s fleece, taking one last greedy inhale before tossing it behind me into the driver’s seat. Maybe he’d conveniently forget to take it back if it was out of view.
When I slipped beneath the covers, I decided to be brave and moved close enough to snuggle into his side. Blood thrummed in my veins, a mix of nerves and sexual attraction.
I wasn’t clear on why he’d agreed to come with me so readily. Was it to get his dick sucked? If so, I was fine with that. But if it was more than that, I wanted to know.
Trace’s fingers moved into my hair as soon as I settled my head against his shoulder. After a moment, he spoke softly. “Do you want to tell me why you were so upset tonight?”
The question surprised me. I shifted up onto an elbow to peer down at him. “Upset? At you?”
He studied me for a beat. “Well, no… I didn’t think so. Were you upset at me?”
I shook my head quickly. “No.”
He smiled and reached out to smooth his thumb along my cheek. “You kept looking around. Rubbing your fingers together. You seemed… nervous.”
I shifted up until I was sitting sideways, leaning against a partial wall that kept my pillows from sliding off the bed at night.
I hadn’t wanted to tell him about my journal earlier because I’d worried he’d think I was overreacting. But Trace was a tracker. If anyone had ideas on how to find a lost item, it would be him. And now that I’d already tried everything to find it, I was desperate.
“I lost something.” I hesitated, suddenly unwilling to admit how much the journal meant to me. “Uh, my… notebook. I’ve looked everywhere, and I’m beginning to think… maybe someone took it.”
“Hey,” he said gently, reaching over to cover my hands where they’d been clasped too tightly together in my lap. “We’ll find it, okay?”
I pulled my hands away and snapped. “You don’t need to talk to me like I’m five.”
Which was probably a great way to behave if I wanted to be treated like I was five.
“Wolfe, I wanted to comfort you because I know you’re upset. I don’t think of you like you’re five. I would hope that was clear when I had sex with you earlier today.”
I blew out a breath and glanced up at the roof of the van to keep from looking at his eyes. I didn’t want to see concern or frustration. Or worse, patient kindness.
“I just… it’s important. The… notebook. I was writing… song lyrics in it, and I don’t have a digital backup or anything.”
It was hard to admit my suspicions. I didn’t want to think any of my friends would do such a thing. I didn’t want to overreact.
But to my surprise, Trace took my concern seriously. Very seriously.
“Walk me through the last time you saw the notebook.” Though he kept his voice calm, his shoulders straightened.
I took him through my afternoon—the visit from Jake and Shay, how Brennan had stopped by, where I’d looked afterward.
“Did you ask Jake tonight if he remembered seeing it earlier?” Trace asked.
I shook my head and hesitated before explaining why. “I think I was afraid of saying it out loud and making it real. Also… I don’t want anyone to know how important it is to me. Which is ridiculous because all someone would have to do is read it to know.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from saying anything else, but Trace wasn’t stupid.
“Were you writing something important, Wolfe?”
“What, like… like a diary?” I wasn’t a great liar, so this was torture. I flicked my eyes up at him and down to the hands in my lap. “You think I wrote about… what, you?”
Trace’s face turned from focused concern to heated curiosity. “Did you write about me?”
I felt the blood rush to my face. “Of course. I gave our hookup today a chili pepper rating. One and a half chili peppers.”
His mouth opened in an O shape before I let out a laugh and clapped a hand over my mouth. “Your face!”
Trace’s eyes were wide in shock. “That was only one and a half chili peppers? What the fuck have you been doing with other people?” He sucked in a breath. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t want to hear about you with other men. Christ.”
My chest expanded. Was Trace… jealous? That was unexpected.
And exciting.
I took a chance and crawled over to straddle his lap, putting my hands on his bare chest before moving them up to cup his neck. His late-day stubble turned me the fuck on, and so did the scent of him. Dried sweat. Campfire smoke. Clean mountain air.