Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 155037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 775(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 775(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
“Did you?” was all he said.
Grr.
If she asked anything more, it would be like she was fishing for compliments.
When, really, all she wanted was . . . okay, it was compliments.
Was there anything wrong with that? Everyone liked to hear nice things about themselves, right? She liked giving people compliments and making them smile.
“Just want to stay and make sure you’re all right. Scout’s honor.”
“You weren’t a scout.”
“Wasn’t I?” He lay back on the sofa.
Guilt filled her. He was going to be so uncomfortable on that sofa. It was far too short for him. But she couldn’t offer him Loki’s bed. He had a thing about people in his room.
“You could sleep in my bed,” she blurted out. Wait. What? No. “I could change the sheets. I’m shorter and smaller, so the sofa will be more comfortable for me.”
He eyed her for a long moment. “Just like I thought.”
“What?”
“Not happening, baby. Now, unless you want me to come tuck you in, get your butt into bed and get some sleep. Got me?”
All right. She got him.
Although . . . she kind of wanted him to tuck her in.
And maybe tell her a bedtime story?
Was that really too much to ask?
Remy lay on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
How long had she been out here in the middle of fucking nowhere alone? How often did Loki leave her here?
What was he thinking?
Loki had his own demons. Remy knew what it was like to be eaten by the past, by things that no one else could see.
He got it.
He even felt some empathy for the other man.
But that didn’t mean he liked that Loki had left Isa here on her own. This place was too isolated. Anyone could get to her here. He’d spotted a camera outside, but other than that and the broken security light, he hadn’t seen any other security measures. Then again, it could be completely secure and he still wouldn’t like her staying here alone.
Face it, you just want her with you.
And was there anything wrong with that?
He’d know she was safe.
Right, because you’d wrap her up in so many rules and protection, she wouldn’t be able to take a step outside the house without you knowing.
But he knew that he also couldn’t smother her, he didn’t want to scare her. But it was hard. Isa was so small and fragile.
She could have died tonight.
Fear filled him. Sharper than he’d have expected considering she wasn’t his.
Yet.
It really felt inevitable. With the life he’d lived, he believed in fate. That he was meant to be in the right place at the right time.
To meet the right girl.
And her best friend.
With a sigh, he shuffled onto his side. He needed to stop thinking about shit like this and sleep. He wasn’t in his twenties anymore. Years of little sleep and a hard life on the road had started to take its toll. Now he needed a solid eight hours or he got crabby.
His gaze moved to her bedroom door. Well, what he could see of it from where he was lying.
There shouldn’t be a closed door between him and her.
But he stayed where he was.
She’s all right.
While she was in the shower, he’d checked the house over. All the windows were shut and locked. So were the doors.
It was a nice house. Four bedrooms. Two bathrooms. Two of the bedrooms were empty. Not even a piece of furniture or a cardboard box.
One of the other bedrooms was clearly Loki’s. It was surprisingly sterile. Clean and tidy. The bed was made perfectly, and the only personality in the room was the photo he had in a frame on his side table.
A photo of him and Isa from when they were kids. Isa had a big toothy grin, blonde pigtails, and messy clothes. Loki was staring intently into the camera as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Isa’s bedroom, in contrast, was a whirlwind. A cacophony of color. Pale pink walls. A white rug with pink around the edge. A comfortable looking pink armchair. White furniture. And stuff strewn everywhere. He’d barely been able to navigate his way through everything on the floor. Clothes and blankets.
And stuffed toys everywhere.
Stuffies on the bed, on the window seat, in a hammock in a corner of the room.
He’d suspected, of course. Most of her friends were Littles. Of course, the stuffies weren’t total proof.
But then he’d seen the pacifier sitting in an open drawer.
Yeah . . . that had surprised him.
He’d dated a couple of Littles before. And he had a suspicion that his own mom might have been one.
If Isa was a Little, he definitely wouldn’t be unhappy. In fact, he rather liked the idea of her sitting on his lap, hugging one of those soft toys, with a pacifier in her mouth.