Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
With nothing else to mark, certify, or upload, I’m restless, and Boone notices.
“Come here, Hollis.” He’s in the kitchen, wiping the counter.
“Why?”
“Because you’re pacing holes in my floor, and I require assistance.”
Boone’s made dinner an event this week, like he’s using food to wage a war against dread, even though the men don’t all sit down to eat at the same time.
One night, he made venison stew with red wine and mushrooms, and the cabin smelled incredible. Another night, we had trout with lemon butter and perfectly crisp potatoes. He made biscuits that were so buttery and flaky that Cade ate five, and he might have eaten more if Rhett hadn’t told him, dryly, to save some for the rest of us.
I step into the kitchen, where Boone’s laid out various vegetables, herbs, and enough garlic to repel an army of vampires.
“Need help with dinner? What are we making?”
“Something elaborate enough to keep your brain busy and simple enough that I can still kiss you while we cook.”
Rhett, who’s writing notes at the table, pauses and looks over.
Boone’s grin widens. “Problem, brother?”
Rhett makes eye contact with Boone and some sort of silent triplet communication passes between them before Rhett says, “Don’t burn dinner,” and returns to his notepad.
Boone leans in, his voice dropping into a wicked tone as he speaks close to my ear. “You heard him. We’ll start with carrots.” He sets the bunch of them in front of me, along with a peeler, then gives me a quick kiss before he goes to the sink to wash potatoes.
Rather than wash the whole pile of potatoes at once, he brings them over to the island one or two at a time, kissing me with each delivery. On his third trip, he comes up behind me, wraps his arms around me, and nuzzles my neck.
When I squirm and say his name, he licks my ear, and I squeal.
“Boone!”
He hugs me from behind. “Sorry, Wren. I’m trying to be good.”
Rhett clears his throat. “Seems like it’s difficult for you.”
“Excruciating,” Boone says with a straight face.
I laugh, and think how wonderful it is that in the middle of all the fear and maps and armed men in the woods, the Wilder brothers still make room for lightness.
Boone watches me laugh, and the teasing look on his face changes into something more raw and naked.
Rhett loudly caps his pen and rustles his papers into a stack. “Going out for a perimeter check,” he tells us as he stands. “Back in twenty.” Then he pulls on a jacket and heads out the front door.
“Do you think we annoyed him?” I ask.
Boone slides his arms around me again, his hands dipping lower than before. “I think he was being generous.”
CHAPTER 37
WREN
It’s not until Boone’s hips press closer that I catch his meaning, then my brows lift in surprise. “He’s giving us privacy?”
He murmurs an affirmative response that’s more like a vibration on my skin as he brushes my hair aside and kisses my neck. Heat spreads from there, straight past my chest and down into my belly.
I set the carrot and peeler down, close my eyes, and let my head loll back as Boone’s mouth triggers all sorts of pleasant sensations.
He turns me in his arms, and then he cups my ass and squeezes as he kisses me with an intensity that makes me lose my breath.
“I take it … dinner’s on hold,” I manage to say.
“Most definitely.” He nips gently at my lower lip. “Unless you’d rather keep cooking?”
I shake my head so quickly, he laughs.
“Dinner can wait, but I am hungry.” Then Boone gives me a look that can only be described as devastatingly sexy. His devilish expression makes me wetter than I already am, and I get wetter still when he lifts me onto the island, spreads my legs and steps between them, barely taking his mouth off of mine through it all.
Boone kisses me like he does everything, generously and thoroughly, with the perfect blend of passion and playfulness. I could carry on kissing him all day, but he has other ideas. His lips make their way back to my neck, across my collarbone and to the neck of my shirt. When he mouths at my breasts through my shirt, I peel it off for him and unhook my bra, and am rewarded with a worshipful expression.
“Oh, Wren.” He’s seen me naked several times now, but his eyes light up like it’s the first time. He lays kisses all over my newly exposed skin, then focuses on the parts that get the most response from me. He kisses and licks and tugs at my nipples until I’m wriggling around, making needy little sounds that I couldn’t control if I wanted to.
As he lavishes my breasts with attention, he starts to stroke between my legs with one of his thumbs. I spread my legs wider and scoot closer to him, and he notices.