Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
“Cheeks?” I shout, shoulders hunching closer to my ears as I go still.
A beat later, the chipmunk slides down my arm, jumps off my wrist, and scampers to stop on the quilts between us.
There, he pauses, glancing back and forth between a very naked Holly and a very naked me as he gives us a very intense, very animated lecture on the importance of safe sex.
Nineteen
Holly
I scramble toward the top of the covers, my rampaging pulse slowing as I realize we haven’t been attacked by the spirits of the town fathers, angry at us for getting frisky on the floor beneath their portraits.
It’s just Cheeks, up and at ‘em.
And clearly not enjoying the fact that I didn’t wake him to tell him that Luke was okay.
“Oh my God,” I pant, pressing a hand to my chest. “Oh my God, sorry. Yes, Cheeks, Luke’s fine. And Luke, I’m so sorry, I should have told you, I found Cheeks! He was hiding in a birdhouse just up the hill. I tucked him into my coat in the nick of time, seconds before the wind blew it down.”
Luke shakes his head, muttering beneath his breath as he draws part of a quilt over his lap. “I’m so glad he’s all right.”
Cheeks, still parked between us on the rumpled bedding, snorts in response. He widens his stance on his tiny paws, his tail twitching with indignation as he delivers the most judgmental chipmunk lecture in history.
“What’s wrong, buddy?” I demand, crossing my arms over my breasts. “It’s not like we haven’t seen you naked. You’re naked all the time.”
Luke curses, his face going pale as he says, “He was watching us, wasn’t he? The whole time. He was—” His gaze locks with mine, horror dawning in his eyes as he mutters, “Willow’s psychic chipmunk watched us have sex.”
The sheer absurdity of the statement, combined with the scandalized look on his face and Cheeks’s continued scolding, is the final straw.
I start to laugh.
Not a girlish giggle or a chuckle, but breathless, can’t-relax-my-diaphragm laughter that makes my entire body shake. I try to cover myself with the quilt, but I’m laughing too hard, and the blanket ends up twisted around my waist instead.
“Sorry, Cheeks,” I gasp, shoulders shaking as I bring my hands to cover my breasts again. “Yes, I’ll get dressed! Relax! Just turn your little tail around and give us some privacy, okay?”
“It’s not funny,” Luke says, but I can hear the smile creeping into his voice as he adds, “And I don’t think he’s mad that we’re naked. I think he’s pissed that we didn’t use a condom.”
“Chick-chick-chick-chit!” Cheeks interjects, as if agreeing with Luke that this is, indeed, the source of his outrage.
I laugh harder, tears streaming down my face.
Luke heaves a put-upon sigh in my direction.
Cheeks growls beneath his breath.
“I’m sorry,” I gasp between giggles. “I’m sorry, it’s just—your face— And he’s so p-pissed… I just… I can’t.”
Luke’s lips twitch. “Safe sex is important. He’s right.”
“He is,” I wheeze as I desperately try to catch my breath. “Oh my God, Cheeks, take a chill pill, buddy. I have an IUD, and we discussed safety beforehand. We were grownups about it, I promise.”
Cheeks chirps again, this time with what sounds like grudging acceptance, before settling onto his haunches with a huff. Then, with a dignified sniff, he turns, treating us to his back as he begins grooming his tail with exaggerated nonchalance, as if to say he’s ready to give us our privacy now.
Finally getting my giggles under control, I reach for my bra atop the pile of clothing beside the bed. I’m in my bra and sweater and stepping into my panties when I notice Luke by the fireplace, glancing awkwardly around, the quilt still clutched to his groin, and I start to laugh again.
He shoots a warning glare my way. “Don’t even think about it.”
I press my lips together, willing a serious expression to my face. “Of course. Sorry. You are clearly a very serious man who wants his clothes back.” I nod toward the room where I grabbed the quilts. “I hung them on the display racks to dry.” He heads that way, and I call after him, “But fair warning, they’ve only been on there a few hours. Your pants and socks might not be dry yet. They were soaked. Your sweater and underthings weren’t too bad, though.”
He returns a few minutes later, just as I’m finishing dressing, wearing boxers and his undershirt, looking so good half-naked, I can’t help but bob my brows up and down. “Yummy. Nice fit, Mr. Ratcliffe. I approve of this choice, but aren’t you cold?”
He shakes his head, a sexy smile hooking his lips. “No, I’m rather warm for some reason. I think it might have to do with the sexy woman who—”