Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
He stood and paced away slightly, resting his shoulder on one of the wooden posts holding up the porch. I was still in his line of sight. The weight of his gaze drew me in, and I found myself moving before I’d made a conscious decision. I stood from my chair and stepped toward him, closing the distance between us.
He remained where he was, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t fully read. He seemed skeptical, but like he desperately wanted what I dangled in front of him. I placed my hands on his shoulders, feeling the solid strength beneath his shirt. His skin radiated heat even through the fabric.
“Thank you,” I whispered, “for showing me the garden. For telling me about Sarah.”
His hands came up to rest on my hips, steadying me as I leaned into him, stood on my tiptoes, and pulled him gently to meet my lips with his.
This kiss felt different, almost languid but no less intense. It didn’t take me long to moan when he swept his tongue over the seam of my lips, asking entrance. I tasted rain on his lips, felt the scratch of his beard against my chin. My fingers tightened reflexively on his shoulders, drawing myself closer.
When we broke apart, his eyes remained closed for a heartbeat longer, as if savoring the moment. The storm had passed completely now, leaving behind that peculiar clarity that comes after heavy rain.
“I should go,” I said reluctantly. The last thing I wanted to do was leave, but it was best if I put some physical distance between us for a bit. I needed to make sure I thought about this whole situation clearly before I did anything to get myself hurt. Physically or emotionally.
He nodded, looking almost as reluctant as I felt to end the short interlude we’d shared. “I’ll walk you out.”
We moved through his apartment in comfortable silence. At the door, he paused, seeming indecisive. Then his expression relaxed and he put his hand on my shoulder. “Wait here. One minute.”
I watched as he disappeared back onto the porch, returning moments later with something in his hands. A small terracotta pot containing a leafy green plant with delicate purple flowers sat so small against his large hands.
“Sage,” he said, offering it to me. “Sarah’s favorite. Heals the soul, she said.”
I took the pot with careful hands, our fingers brushing in the exchange. The gesture felt impossibly intimate, him sharing not just a plant, but a piece of her. Of him.
“I’ve never kept anything alive before,” I admitted, studying the small leaves.
“Water twice a week.” His voice was soft. “Morning sun. It’ll do the rest.”
He walked me back through the kitchen to my truck. “Thanks for the shelter,” I said, standing beside my vehicle, the potted sage held carefully against my chest. “And the company.”
Rancor’s hand came up, hesitated, then gently tucked a damp strand of hair behind my ear. The touch sent electricity through me, different from the storm’s energy but no less powerful.
“Give me your phone,” he demanded. He got this stubborn look about him when he thought he wasn’t going to get something he wanted very much. I had to bite back a smile as I handed it to him. He punched in some numbers and there was a buzzing sound from his pants. Yeah. Wasn’t touching that one. “Sent my phone a text so you have my number.” He held my gaze. “Come back,” he said. Not a question. Not quite an order. Something in-between.
“I will.” I smiled up at him, meaning it more than I’d meant anything in a long time. “I don’t have anything scheduled, but I would love to spend some time with you.”
“Yes.” His simple reply made me smile.
I climbed into my vehicle, setting the sage on the passenger seat with care. I started the engine and put the vehicle in gear. As I pulled away, I caught sight of him in the rearview mirror. I wasn’t sure I was ready for the path I was going down but found myself wanting to skip along it all the same. And for the first time in my life, the road ahead felt like it might lead somewhere other than away.
Chapter Five
Cora
The rain had slowed to a drizzle by the time I left the compound, but the roads glistened like black ice under my headlights. I gripped the steering wheel with one hand while the other rested protectively over the small pot of sage Marcus had given me. I smiled despite the weather, despite everything. The truck’s wipers squeaked against the windshield, struggling against the mist that wasn’t quite rain anymore but refused to clear.
The headlights behind me caught my attention, reflecting in my rearview mirror and casting my cab in harsh white light. A car had pulled onto the road behind me from a side street. Nothing unusual about that. I flipped my mirror to dim the glare and focused on the road ahead.