Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
He swears under his breath and rubs his hand over his mouth, and I wad up an old jacket that I wore in high school and prop it against the window.
“I’m going to nap. I haven’t slept well”—in years—“and I think everything is just catching up to me.”
I close my eyes, and he doesn’t reply. I hear him sigh, but he doesn’t say anything more.
I wonder what his wife’s like. What kind of woman did he marry? I bet she’s gorgeous. Tall and thin and looks perfect by his side. Maybe she’s a redhead. Maybe they have little ginger kids.
Am I jealous?
Of course I am. But I’m not here to crush over my former bodyguard. I’m here because someone is out to hurt me, and Gideon is the only one who can keep me safe. And it does hurt my feelings that he doesn’t want me around, but I’ll be damned if I let him know that.
Because that’s pretty much par for the course in my life. I’m typically in the way.
The whirl of the engines and movement of the plane make me extra sleepy, and finally, I feel myself drift off.
Chapter Four
Gideon
She slept the entire flight.
She even drooled, which I found to be kind of adorable, not that I’d ever admit that to anyone. Now that I’ve had the opportunity to really take her in, I can see the fatigue, the purple bruises under her stunning eyes, and the way her shoulders are almost up around her ears, even with sleep.
She’s scared, which she absolutely should be. It pisses me the fuck off that Richie walked away from her, even for a second, leaving her vulnerable. My body hums with rage at the thought of anyone holding a weapon on her, threatening her.
That any piece of shit would even think about hurting her.
There are more questions than answers regarding what happened that night, and I don’t like it.
I can’t stop looking at her. She’s fucking beautiful. She was always a pretty girl, but now she’s stunning, and that is not something that I should be noticing. I shouldn’t see the curves of her breasts under the blouse, or the way her thighs look, one crossed over the other, and imagine them wrapped around my waist. She’s slender but has curves in all the right damn places. I don’t know if she still likes to run for exercise.
I used to run with her every morning at seven sharp.
I don’t know if she still prefers nachos over tacos, or if she likes that little restaurant near the White House that had sub sandwiches.
The truth is, a lot can happen in four years, and I don’t really know her at all.
Lena murmurs in her sleep, and scowls as she shifts as if agitated. A tear rolls down one cheek, alerting me that something isn’t right. She starts to shake her head back and forth, and then she cries out and sits up straight, breathing hard, her eyes glassy, and I shift over to her, take one hand in mine, and wrap the other around her shoulders, trying to soothe her. I brush the tear away with my thumb, not oblivious to her soft-as-fuck skin.
“Shh. You’re okay. Hey, you’re okay, Lena.”
She sucks in a breath and pulls away from me, shifting so she’s not pressed against me, and I take the hint and move back to my own seat, feeling the distance between us.
You’re not supposed to touch her, you idiot.
“Sorry,” she whispers.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
She bites her lower lip and closes her eyes. Her hands aren’t steady. I want to ask her what the nightmare was about, but the pilot comes over the intercom to tell us we’re about to land in Missoula.
“You live in Missoula?” she asks me, visibly trying to steady herself.
“No, it’s just the closest airport. We have an hour’s drive ahead of us.”
She blows out a breath. “Can we pick up something to eat on the way? I’m starving.”
“Sure.”
Two hours later, after hitting a drive-through for burgers and fries and then making the long drive out to the ranch, I drive past the farmhouse that Ryker and Willow live in, and over to my own house by the lake. It’s dark, so Lena can’t see the mountains, but she’ll see them in the morning.
I can feel Lena’s lavender gaze staring at me.
“What?”
“Who else lives out here?”
“My brother and his wife are in the house that we just passed. There are ranch hands out at the bunkhouse, about a quarter mile away.”
“Lots of people,” she murmurs as I pull into my garage. Summer’s over and we’re well into fall, but all the hands are staying on full-time through the winter this year because Ryker has expanded operations, and it’s not just a summer job anymore.
Lena and I get out of my SUV, and I carry her bag inside with her following behind me. I don’t stop in the kitchen. I lead her through and up the stairs to the bedrooms, then open the door of her suite and set her bag on the bed.