Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
The scene. There was that word again, underscoring my lack of choice to face the day and the reality of the house fire. Luckily, I wouldn’t have to go in my ruined clothes from the day before because I had the pair of jeans I’d purchased last night. Still no clean shirt. Resigned to asking Eric for something to borrow, I opened the door after pulling on the jeans and my shoes, only to find a T-shirt on the handle. A subtle sign to not parade around shirtless again?
Probably, but I gratefully shrugged into the faded shirt advertising the annual firefighter pancake breakfast. And if I was more temptation than Eric wanted to deal with, at least the feeling was mutual. Further, now that I was dressed, I could deal with the dogs and possibly leave a note for Eric to avoid any awkward residue from falling asleep on the guy last night.
However, before I could so much as whistle for Ben and Jerry, Eric greeted me from his seat at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee in front of him. The dogs were asleep near his feet, full bowls of water and chow nearby.
“You fed and watered them? Thanks.” The leftover kibble told me Eric had been extra generous, but I wasn’t about to quibble over minor details.
“Told you they liked me.” Eric offered a tentative smile. “And I figured you’d be in a rush to get to your house this morning.”
My gut tugged at the way Eric’s voice softened on house, an unwelcome reminder of what I’d lost. Maybe the impersonal labels everyone else kept using were better.
“Yeah, I need to get to the scene. If the boys have been out, I’ll just head there now.” I gestured at the backdoor that led to the small deck.
“I’ll go with you.” Eric placed his empty cup in the dishwasher and joined me at the door in a series of efficient movements that left me more frustrated than impressed. As much as I was attracted to the guy and his confident way of carrying himself, the last thing I wanted was to be some sort of rescue project for him.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“The fire inspector and insurance people will have all sorts of questions for you. That alone is a reason to bring a friend, but you also don’t know yet how bad the scene is. You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’m not sure I like your martyr complex.” I stamped down the little giddyup in my pulse at him calling us friends. Under other circumstances, that could be seen as an improvement, but my back stiffened from his reasonable tone and too-kind eyes.
“Perhaps, at a certain point, you’ll simply have to accept that I like you, Magnus.” Now Eric sounded maddeningly like I had the other week, and I groaned at his use of my own logic. “And if there’s one thing I’m good at in this world, it’s being a friend.”
I know. I bit back the retort. Eric had a strong friend group, and he was well-liked by pretty much the entire town from what I could tell from my time in Mount Hope. The problem wasn’t that I didn’t want to be friends with him, but rather that I wanted to be the kind who stuck our tongues down each other’s throats.
Since I wasn’t about to remind either of us how close we’d come to kissing the night before, I sighed instead. “Fine. You can come.”
“Good. I made you coffee for the road.” Eric produced a travel mug out of seemingly thin air. He must have grabbed it when he put his cup in the dishwasher, but I’d been distracted by my own frustrations, his lean muscles, and his rather perfect ass yet again.
“Thanks.” It was likely for the best that we didn’t discuss last night. Especially since a lot of my ire and confusion was at myself. If I hadn’t stopped things, we likely would have hooked up, which was the outcome I’d sought for months. But I’d had to open my mouth, and not in a fun way. After the night I’d experienced, I would have thought I’d jump at the chance for stress relief via Eric, but apparently, my body had another agenda I couldn’t quite figure out yet.
And that made me cranky. We ended up leaving the dogs snoozing in Eric’s kitchen and taking his far-better-smelling SUV. Rather than subject either of us to small talk, I flipped on the radio for the short drive.
True local boy, Eric had it tuned to one of the Gorge’s own stations rather than a streaming service or a Portland-area station. Of course, this meant suffering through Mount Hope’s ode to the oldies before getting a chipper DJ warning about an incoming July heat wave.
Cranky. Hot. It was barely eight a.m., and I was already in a terrible mood by the time the fire inspector, a younger brunette with a stoic demeanor, started in on her lengthy list of questions.