Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
“You okay?”
“I will be. Just need to get some protein in me.”
He dipped his head so she could see him. “I would love to make some statement—definitely inappropriate—about how I can help with that, but I’m worried. I can get food if you want to rest a minute.”
Bradford loved how she didn’t shy away from his stare, but held his with her own unflinchingly.
Her full lips twitched as she gave him another blinding smile. “Pretty sure I’ve heard that one and gotta tell you, I’d still be hungry and needing more protein, which means I’d be unfulfilled and that’s not how I prefer to be.” She pushed up and moved to where the dog had eaten, swiped that dish and went to the door. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Then she was gone, closing the door behind her.
Bradford hung his head and groaned even as he reached down to adjust his hard cock again in the sweats he wore. I promise you wouldn’t be unfulfilled, beautiful. Taking a moment to get himself back under control, he too, finally went to the door and stepped out into the cold house.
When he found her in the kitchen she was standing by a camp stove with a skillet on one burner and a pot of boiling water on the other.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you came prepared.” He walked up beside her and his stomach growled, the soup he’d eaten earlier a far cry from holding its own in his belly.
“I camp a lot. Picked up a few tricks over the years. This stove pretty much does anything I need it to. I have a griddle top and a grill one also.”
He gave a low whistle, definitely impressed. “What can I do?” Bradford was determined not to be a burden, or more of one, to this woman who had rescued him.
“Put the bag on the counter in the boiling water please, and place the lid on it.”
He followed her command and watched as she put some dough in the cast iron pan then covered it as well.
“Are you making biscuits?”
There went that smile that was dangerous to his well-being. She made his knees weak.
“Biscuits and chicken and dumplings. Not as good as homemade chicken and dumplings, but it’ll do in a pinch.”
“Fucking impressive, Iris. What got you into camping?” He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter.
“Grew up on a lot of acreage and spent my days away from the house. The first night I didn’t come home because I didn’t think they really wanted me. And I got lost.” She gave a small shrug. “I woke up in the middle of the night to thunder and found I’d had a shelter erected over me and my foster mother was beside me. She’d also covered me with blankets.”
“Was she mad?”
“Nope. All she said was I needed to be prepared if I was going to do this again. So the classes began. First aid, recognizing animal tracks, how to build a shelter if I didn’t have one and how to pack smart for when I was going out with the intent of staying overnight. I took courses and it kind of grew from there.”
“Sounds like your mom is a goddamn rockstar.”
Iris set a timer on her watch and gestured for him to follow. They went back to the warm room and took seats side by side on the bed they would be sharing tonight.
“She is. I’m not sure how she managed to do what she did with all of us, but no matter what we pursued, she was there. Supporting it, supporting us and encouraging.”
He took off the mittens and placed them by his leg, noticing how she’d removed her gloves, showing him her hands and the painted nails.
“That’s amazing.” Unable to help himself, he picked up one of her hands and brought it close. “Is this a winter scene on your nails?”
“It is,” she said, inching closer to him.
Something he had no problem with. Iris lifted her other hand and he took in the full display. From reindeer, to frosted trees, snowmen and even a Santa, each nail had some intricate work detailed on it.
“Do I want to know why on each of your middle fingers you have nothing but snowflakes?”
She chuckled. “So when I flip someone off, it’s cold and icy?”
Bradford laughed and made himself release her hand. “You are full of surprises.”
“Not really, I’m just me.” She sobered, and it was like a knife to the heart. “I’m going to check on the food, I’ll be right back.”
She vanished before he could say anything.
“Hate to break this to you, Iris Wentz. The you I see is a fucking incredible woman and I want to know you better. Far better than I do now.”
Chapter Four
Iris couldn’t sleep. She rolled her lower lip in her teeth and tried to think of sleepy things. Counting sheep didn’t work. Trying to meditate was out of the question.