Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
But then a scratching sound attracts my attention. Heavy, like claws on wood.
Something massive moves just beyond the open door.
A moment later, a huge gray muzzle pushes through the frame. Not a dog. Not even close. The creature is enormous. Muscular. Predatory. Its eyes gleam with intelligence, ice blue, sharp, and utterly unnatural.
I press myself deeper into the couch cushions, heart thudding. “That’s… a big dog.”
Reed glances at the hand still cupping himself and smirks. “No one’s ever called it that before. But I like it.”
My cheeks go up in flames.
Nixon mutters a curse. “Get dressed.”
I guess that Reed is Nixon’s brother. Now I’ve had a moment to look him over. The strong family resemblance is obvious. There's something about his hard jaw, cheekbones, and eyes. Wow. Even the dog matches his owners in that regard.
“And take…” Nixon pauses, looking at the beast who seems so out of place in this crafted, clean environment.
Reed pats the wolf-dog on the head with his free hand. “Come,” he says, heading off up the stairs, his perfect bare ass on display. I can’t help but watch him striding away as heat floods between my legs.
Wow.
Two gorgeous men under one lonely and isolated roof. If I weren’t desperate to return to civilization, a girl could find plenty to keep her occupied out here in the woods. Those reviews on TripAdvisor flash through my mind again. Maybe this cabin has seen its fair share of ‘local hospitality.’
Nixon closes the front door and sits at the table before lifting my foot. “Sorry about that. My brother…well, we don’t usually have visitors.”
“So he walks around naked in the woods?”
Nixon shrugs, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “It’s warm out. There’s usually no one around.”
“Isn’t he worried the dog’s gonna bite off his sausage?” I mutter, as the icepack touches my skin. The cold shocks through me, and Nixon lets out a deep, rumbling laugh that vibrates my bones. Not a great combo when my ankle’s throbbing like it’s going to explode.
“Sorry.” He places a warm hand on my knee, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. That was an interesting mental image.”
“Their whole entrance was a mental image,” I say, trying not to laugh.
The ice soothes, and I take a deep breath, trying to relax.
A door slams upstairs, and footsteps descend. Reed returns wearing gray sweats and a worn blue T-shirt, like a model in an ad trying to convey casual cool. Another man follows behind him. Tall and broad, he’s dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt. Classic lumberjack.
Three of them now. Brothers obviously. And no sign of a dog anywhere.
“So,” Reed drawls, resting his elbow on the banister. “What do we have here?”
“This is Scarlet,” Nixon replies. “I found her in the woods. She was running from some asshole.”
I don’t miss the intense look that passes between the men. It’s quick, silent, and packed with some kind of understanding I’m not privy to.
“Not like you to play knight in shining armor,” Reed snorts.
“You’re lucky he didn’t leave you there,” the third one says, stepping closer. “I’m Finn.” He holds out his hand, and I shake it. His grip is firm and dry; his palm callused from work. He holds on for a moment too long, his gaze lingering.
“Scarlet’s ankle is pretty swollen,” Nixon says, ignoring the jibes. “She needs to ice it and keep it elevated. One of you want to get the spare room ready?”
“I’m not staying,” I blurt. “I’d appreciate it if someone could drive me back to my motel.”
“It’s no trouble,” Nixon says firmly. The others exchange glances, obviously confused by Nixon’s refusal to take me back but not questioning him in front of me. “Better not to head out again until morning.”
Right on cue, a long, low howl splits the night air. The sound is distant, but eerie, and the way the men react, the sudden stillness in their bodies, the quiet way they listen, makes the hair on my arms rise.
They’re not scared. They’re alert.
I try to tamp down the panic rising in my throat. “I want to go back.” I sit straighter, shifting my painful ankle. “I don’t know you, and I don’t want to be rude, but I’m not comfortable staying here.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Finn says gently. “That’s not what we’re about.”
“You’ll get some rest tonight, and we’ll see how you are in the morning,” Nixon says. Without another word, he gestures at Reed, who sighs dramatically and heads back upstairs. Even if there’s a lock on that bedroom door, I already know I’m not going to sleep tonight. Not in a house with three strange men and a literal wolf.
“Can you grab some anti-inflammatories and water?” Nixon asks Finn. “And maybe something for her to eat.”