Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 56624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
I ought to know. I deal with criminals who live by a whole different playbook than nearly anyone else.
I make quick work of splitting the logs and stacking them, since we only need a few for tonight, when I hear the deep timbre of a man’s voice in the distance.
I’m instantly alert, axe hanging by one hand, moving toward the cabin, when I see the footprints. They’re heavy, big, and man-sized—two pairs.
Then the high-pitched sound of a woman’s scream.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Emma
The words come easily at first, probably because I want to see that pleased look on his face and hear his praise when I hit that word count. And I really, really want that reward.
But beyond that, something’s clicked. Being with Owen really has made the words start coming again, and I’m easing back into who I am—I’m a writer, through and through, and I’m not really myself unless I’m crafting a new world.
I wasn’t joking when I said sex unblocks the creativity for me. And sex with Owen? I’m on fire.
I sip the hot tea he gave me when I come up for air after writing for another straight hour. I remember the way he kissed my temple like it meant something, pulling me onto his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. And I think I wanted to be there.
No, I definitely wanted to be there.
I type faster, the words slowly forming an entire book, one stroke of the keyboard after another.
Owen’s words echo in my head.
Same rules, young lady.
My fucking god, do I have it bad for stern Owen. Always have, if I’m honest.
I should hate how that makes me squirm on the couch. Should… but don’t. And to think, all these years… he wanted me too.
I miss him even though he’s only outside chopping wood. I like the reassurance of him sitting next to me, the slow tap of his fingers on his keyboard, the serious and definitely hot look of concentration he gets.
Swoon.
So when I hear his heavy boots just outside the door, I check my word count and realize with glee I’ve far surpassed them.
Ah well. I’ll have to figure out something else to earn that spanking.
I stand and yawn, stretching my back. I run my fingers through my hair so I don’t look half-wild when he comes in, unbutton a few of the buttons from my shirt, and tie the bottom in a knot to make it look like a little slutty crop top.
Perfect.
He’s stomping his feet outside, but doesn’t come in. What’s up with that?
“Is the door locked?” I say, heading to open it. “Just a minute.”
But when I swing the door open, it isn’t Owen on the other side but two men, covered from head to toe in snow, wearing thick winter gear, staring at me.
“Oh!” I say, startled. My heart’s beating a frantic rhythm in my chest as I quickly scan behind them for any sign of Owen. I don’t see him.
“Can I help you?”
“Yeah, you can help us,” one of the guys says, his face darkened in from his hood. “We’re freezing to death out here.” And without another word, both of them push past me.
“Hey! You can’t just come in here,” I say, when the second man, dressed in a rough gray jacket and thick winter boots, tracks snow into the house and eyes my cropped top.
“We’re freezing to death out there. Got lost hunting,” the taller one says. “We just need to come in by the fire and make a few calls.” Their voices are slurred, and the stench of stale alcohol makes my stomach flip over.
Then why do they give each other that look that makes my hair stand on end? I can’t speak. My throat’s gone dry. Owen’s going to flip when he sees these guys here.
“You alone, sweetheart?” the taller one asks, as he takes a step toward me.
My body locks. “No.” I shake my head and lie on instinct. “My husband went to get us some wood for the fire and will be back any second.”
The shorter one takes an assessing look around the cabin. I watch as his calculated gaze falls on my one pair of slippers, my one cup of tea, the folded blanket on the couch, and no car in the driveway.
“You’re lying.”
I draw myself up to my full height. “I’m not, and you have no business coming in here without being asked and then calling me a liar. You can leave now.”
“Like hell we will,” the taller one says. “Freeze to death when we could have the chance to save our lives in the company of a beautiful lady? C’mon now, only an idiot would do that.”
I stare, quickly trying to think of what I could use for a weapon. That fire poker is out of reach and probably wouldn’t do much good anyway.