Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Viggo grabbed my wrist and gently pushed me onto my pillow. He stripped my jeans off with perfunctory swiftness, pulled up the covers, and set a finger on my lips. “Rest.”
I snorted. “You’re turning down a blowjob?”
“For now…yes. We can think about food in an hour. And we need to rent a boat, but we have time. Close your eyes,” he cajoled, massaging my eyelids with the pads of his thumbs.
“I don’t nap. If I do, I’ll be awake all night, and the last thing I need is to be staring at this ugly ceiling at three a.m. with a head full of ‘what-ifs,’ so I’ll go to the store while you sleep and when you’re awake, we’ll get you a boat. How does that sound?”
Viggo curled a finger and patted the mattress. “Humor me. Thirty minutes. That’s all.”
“Thirty minutes? Are you joking? That’s torture.”
“Fifteen minutes, then. Please.”
I sighed heavily. “Fine.”
An hour later, I woke with a start, bolting upright with my heart pounding. Viggo was next to me, calmly scrolling through messages on his cell.
“Ah, you’re awake. Are you hungry?”
I furrowed my brow and shoved a hand through my hair. “What time is it? We have a lot to do. Food first. We have to figure out how to work the grill and if you want a boat, one of us will have to run it here. I’m familiar with the lake, so it should probably be me.”
Viggo dropped his phone on the nightstand and pushed me onto the mattress, straddling my thighs. He rocked his hips in invitation and whispered in my ear.
“I think I’ll take that blowjob now.”
I snorted and tried to wiggle out from under him, but it was a weak protest at best.
Forty-five minutes later, we were on a two-lane road thick with trees. The market was located one town over and, according to their website, had everything we needed for a couple of days on the lake.
I wasn’t as familiar with this area, but the low-key, friendly vibe was the same everywhere in the UP. This was wilderness country, known for its dramatic shorelines along three Great Lakes. You could ski and snowmobile in the winter months, hike and fish in summertime.
It made sense that I’d settled in Wood Hollow. In a way it reminded me of the UP, albeit on a smaller scale—and minus the skiing. I’d always loved the rugged beauty and the sense of being at the fringe of civilization. It was peaceful.
Less so with my family in the vicinity, but I’d decided to take Viggo’s lead and stay in the moment.
I inhaled a lungful of lake air as I stepped out of the rented Explorer. “Smell that? Isn’t it glorious?”
Viggo grunted. “My stomach is grumbling too hard for me to smell anything. Let’s buy every bag of chips and every pint of ice cream in the store. Ready?”
I smiled as I followed him into the modest roadside market, brightening at the ample displays of fresh fruits and veggies. We each took a basket and filled them with basics like coffee, eggs, steak and potatoes for dinner, and snacks Viggo claimed he couldn’t live without.
“Now who’s dramatic?” I scoffed. “We’re here for less than forty-eight hours. Are you really going to eat that much ice cream?”
He studied a pint of cookies and cream. “Maybe. I don’t know. I like choices. Which one do you want? Don’t say nothing, ’cause you’ll change your mind later and I’ll be cranky about sharing if we don’t buy enough. You like chocolate.”
“Yes, and peanut butter. Oh, wait. Get the rocky road.”
“That’s the spirit.” Viggo pointed at the sign above the next aisle. “They have the carbonated water you like, too. Let’s buy that and wine and…”
I stared after him for a beat, butterflies fluttering in my chest. The big Viking knew I liked chocolate and remembered what brand of water I preferred. He’d talked me through a panic spiral on the flight and hadn’t seem bothered by me drooling on his chest in a small bed in a cabin that hadn’t been anyone’s idea of luxurious in fifty years.
Viggo was a good man and a good friend. But these butterflies were the kind that came with big, fat crushes. If I wasn’t careful, I’d do something regrettable, like…catch feelings. That couldn’t happen. No way.
We squabbled over who’d pay for the groceries. I won that round and Viggo rented the boat. He insisted on piloting the boat and docking it at the cabin.
“No, I should do it.”
Viggo crossed his arms. “Why?”
“I invited you, and I take hosting responsibilities seriously. If we’d stayed at my place, there would have been food in the fridge, more coffee than we’d need…and a lot of alcohol. The boat would have been waiting at the dock, the electric grill would have been ready to go—no need for charcoal, and…I have a king-sized bed.”