Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Rat scaled the couch, and Greyson coughed, the sound wicked and dry, ripping through him like fire. The kitten padded over to him, concerned and wearing an expression of pure feline judgment.
He reached for the little puff ball, then hesitated. “Can cats catch human colds?”
Wren carried a steaming mug of tea out to the living room and set it on the table. “I don’t think so.”
His body ached everywhere but he forced himself to sit up. Rat climbed up his chest and nestled into his neck, using his shoulder as a balcony.
“You look terrible. Maybe we should call the clinic and see if you can get in to see the doctor.”
“I’m fine.” He winced, head throbbing and throat burning. He definitely felt anything but fine.
“Sure you are, tough guy.” She handed him the tea. “It’s a tincture, so it’s already steeped.”
He tried not to whimper as he reached for the mug.
“Smells good,” he croaked, breathing in the fresh scent of ginger as the mug warmed in his hands. Staying awake required great focus. He almost spilled the mug when he shivered. “I’m freezing.”
“Keep the blankets on.” She bundled him up like a Jedi master, brushing her cool fingers over his forehead again. God, he loved when she did that.
Such vulnerability felt foreign to him and he didn’t like being this dependent on someone else’s care. His father would say he was being weak.
Greyson spent most of his adult life being the one who took care of others, who solved problems and fixed things. Being on the receiving end of such gentle attention should have made him uncomfortable, but with Wren, it felt right.
“I think you have a fever. The soup should be done soon.”
His brows lifted. “Soup?”
“It’s Freya’s recipe.” Freya was the new chef at The Haven, but he’d yet to try any of her food.
Wren pulled a pillow onto her lap and watched him with concern. She took Rat from his shoulder so he could drink the tea. The fuzzy little bastard didn’t realize how lucky he was to have her hands on him, stroking and caressing. Greyson couldn’t help but envy the little rodent.
“You didn’t have to trouble yourself with soup—“
“I know I didn’t, but I wanted to. Your body needs medicine, and Mother Nature’s comes in the form of soup.”
His muscles ached as he reached for her hand. “You’ve been here all day?”
“I left to pick up some items at the market and then stopped back at The Haven to teach my yoga class, but that turned into a bust.”
“Wh-uh-uh—” His chest spasmed with a vicious cough, and he quickly set down his tea. Each breath a hard punch in the lungs.
As soon as he managed to draw a full breath, Wren handed him the mug. “Take a sip.”
He did as she instructed, and the hot honey soothed his burning throat. “Why was your class a bust?” Every word was gravel scraping over smashed glass.
“Only two people showed up. One of them included Drummond.”
So the CEO was still in town. “When’s the douchebag checking out?”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s booked for the week, but he’s not getting anything out of his stay. I never say this, but I wish he would cut his visit short.”
That made two of them.
Greyson didn’t like that guy from the moment he set his designer, leather-soled shoes on Wren’s property. He probably loved watching her bend around in her sexy yoga pants and those crisscross belly shirts she wore for class. His grip tightened on his mug. Maybe he could talk her into wearing one of those monk habits that covered the body from hood to ankle.
“I can’t imagine him doing yoga.”
She rolled her eyes. “He left his cell on and interrupted savasana to take a call. Then he proceeded to walk around the studio searching for the lost signal.”
Despite the pain, Greyson laughed. Once snow hit the towers, cell phones became useless in Hideaway Harbor.
“Hopefully, your other guest understands some things are outside of your control.”
“The other student was Noah, so he understands.”
Another stray he had to watch. It was an infestation.
She gestured toward his mug. “How’s the tea helping?”
“It’s good. Thanks for making it.” It wasn’t healing his throat, but it certainly soothed the burn. “You don’t have to stay here, you know.”
“Someone has to take care of you.” She stood and adjusted the pillows in a pretty way he never thought to set them up. How did women know to do shit like that?
“I don’t want you to catch whatever this is, Wren.”
She ignored his concern and continued rearranging his living room, straightening his books and arranging the clutter he had dumped from his pockets last night. God, he loved seeing her hands on his stuff.
“I’ll be careful. Besides, I don’t feel like being home right now.”
He frowned. “Because of the CEO?”