Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Rayne glanced down at the toolbox, then back up to meet Mike’s dark eyes, seeing a warmth in them that he hadn’t noticed the night he’d sought refuge in Wood’s shop. He was big, strong, and imposing. Rayne could only imagine what a man like him must think of someone as spoiled and pampered as he was. “Thank you.”
“What were you doing just now?” Mike asked in a rough, assertive tone that made a flutter churn in Rayne’s stomach. “Praying?”
“Meditating… well, more like mindful breathing,” he answered, hoping he didn’t sound foolish. Being who he truly was hadn’t been easy to get used to. Sometimes, he’d slip into character, just as Mike had noticed, when he was nervous. He wore his mask like a shield so no one saw the shameful disaster that he was underneath it. “It helps to calm me when I’m…”
Mike braced his large, tattooed hand on the railing, his thick bicep bulging beneath his plain black T-shirt as he set his toolbox on the ground with a heavy clank. Rayne swallowed thickly and uncrossed his legs from his easy pose, then stretched them out in front of him. He inhaled, trying to reach the calm he’d just experienced ten minutes ago, but his heart battered in his ribs, and his usual swagger was fleeting. Rayne wasn’t close enough to touch Mike, but it didn’t matter. He could still feel him. He was having that same visceral reaction to Mike that he had when he’d first seen him at the tattoo shop and this morning when he saw him standing outside of the county jail, looking dangerous and vengeful. And right now, as Mike stood towering over him at six foot and some more inches in low-riding, dirty work jeans and grass-stained hiking boots, he was pure realness and strength… everything Rayne wasn’t but wanted to be. His body vibrated like he wanted to get closer to Mike, to linger in his shadow and absorb as much of his protective energy as he could that radiated all around him. He wondered if Mike even realized how strong his aura was.
“Calm is good,” Mike rumbled.
Rayne frowned. Umm, what was good? What had they been talking about? Did I say something out loud?
“So that kind of breathing helps you stay calm? No shit?” Mike appeared genuine and interested, not as if he was placating him.
Rayne smiled, feeling good about that. He loved to talk meditation with anyone. Mike’s eyebrows dipped dramatically as he stared at the lower half of Rayne’s face, at his mouth. Rayne unconsciously licked his lips and looked anywhere but at Mike, not wanting him to think he was getting fresh with him because he wasn’t. God, he hoped he wasn’t.
“That’s interesting.”
Mike’s gritty voice danced over Rayne’s skin like sharp nails. He had to clear his throat before he answered, “Sure. Well. It works for me anyway. I can’t imagine a man like you needing help staying calm.”
Mike’s sun-roughened face was back to that resting serious expression. “What would make you say that?”
What the hell would make him say that out loud? Good grief. Rayne wanted to restart this entire conversation because it was going into left field. He was usually smoother than this, but he wasn’t in character any longer, and Mike was a man in a league all of his own. And it intimidated the hell out of him. Not that he’d have a shot with someone like Mike, but if Rayne wanted to find a man on that level, then he needed to hurry up and get his shit together.
“I didn’t mean anything bad by it—”
“Bad or good… I still wanna know what made you say that?”
Rayne blinked. Damn, he loved Mike’s demanding tone. “I guess I said it because I imagine not too many people piss you off. Therefore, you probably don’t need many breathing techniques to stay calm. You don’t exactly radiate worry and anxiety.”
Rayne laughed a light chuckle, but Mike didn’t.
He was quiet for too long, just gazing at him with those bottomless dark eyes before he finally grumbled, “See? We all wear masks.”
What does he mean by that? There was a considerable stretch of silence between them, and Mike’s gaze stayed hard and indecipherable.
“You didn’t like what was for dinner?” Mike changed the subject.
“Oh. No, it was really good. I was just giving them some time alone.” Rayne tried to instill a little enthusiasm in his voice so Mike wouldn’t see how much it wrecked him. He tried to run his fingers through his hair but remembered he had it pulled into a small bun at the nape of his neck. He tugged at the elastic band and released his thick, wavy hair. He’d cut it down on the sides a few months ago, but the top had grown longer. He preferred it over the long styles. He thought his new haircut made him look older and a lot less pretty. “I don’t want to make them feel more awkward than they already do. Living with a sex addict isn’t easy.”