Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I pull out my cell, but there’s no text from Moira and no service.
Looks like the only way I’ll be finding out if my pilot has arrived is if I head into the terminal to ask.
Bracing for the onslaught, I jam my phone into the inner, waterproof pocket of my raincoat, grab my keys, and swing out into the storm. I run for the terminal, wincing as my clogs fill with rainwater, making my bare toes go slimy in my shoes.
So slimy, I lose a clog halfway across the parking lot and have to backtrack to fetch it…
I’m standing in the rain, doing my best to squirm my foot into my shoe and cursing myself for not wearing more practical footwear—even if this was supposed to be a night in with the girls—when lightning claps through the air. Only there’s no flash of light or accompanying rumble of thunder, just a sharp crack followed by a rushing sound that reminds me of sliding into a pile of fall leaves.
Leaves…
I hitch my chin up to see one of the parking lot’s large trees on a collision course with my face. Before I can decide which way to jump, a thick arm snatches at my ribs, jerking me back toward my car.
On instinct, I reach for the person holding me and encounter wide, strong shoulders I cling to as we sail through the air. It all happens so fast; I don’t have time to dread the impact with the pavement. But if I had, it would have been time wasted.
Somehow, the man spins us in the air as we fall, ensuring his back takes the brunt of the collision. I end up with a tree limb across my legs, leaves in my hair, and what feels like the start of a bruise where my knee crashed into the pavement, but it could have been so much worse.
Hopefully, the same can be said for my rescuer…
“Are you all right?” I ask, batting at the leaves covering my face “Sir? Are you…”
My words trail away as a big hand lifts the thin limb up and away, clearing the space between us. I stare down into kind brown eyes set in the most handsome face I’ve ever seen. My hero is all perfect angles, a strong jaw, and cheekbones a male model would kill for.
From what I can see (and feel) of his body, he’s built like a model, too. Like an underwear model, who spends hours in the gym ensuring each muscle is more perfectly sculpted than the last. Add in shaggy brown hair streaked with gray and a commanding presence that fills the air around him—even when he’s flat on his back—and the man should be intimidating as hell.
But those eyes…
They’re so kind, so warm and familiar.
It feels like I’ve met him before, and when he cups my face and asks—“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”—I don’t flinch or pull away the way I usually would with a stranger.
I don’t even think about it.
I don’t think anything except the fact that his fingers feel solid and safe against my cheek, and that I’d like him to keep touching me for a very long time.
I’ve never wanted that.
Not with anyone, not even when things with Adrian were new and a wink from him across a crowded lecture hall could make my skin flush all over.
I’m so stunned that I don’t speak for several long seconds, long enough for the man to repeat himself, “Are you okay?”
Swallowing hard, I nod, but before I can speak, we’re attacked.
No, not attacked. It’s more like we’re mobbed, but sweetly mobbed, by soaking wet, wriggling balls of furry enthusiasm. Three dogs—puppies, it looks like—tumble over us, between us, licking and whimpering as my savior does his best to keep the leaves out of our faces and grab for their collars at the same time.
“No! Down, Bacon,” he rumbles as one of the dogs leaps onto my back, flattening me onto his strong chest again. “Sorry,” he adds. “I have no idea how they got out of their kennels.”
“It’s fine,” I say, my words ending in a grunt as Bacon leaps off my spine. I take the opportunity to wrench myself into a seated position and reach for the tree limbs. “Here. Let me hold those while you get up.”
“Thanks,” the man says, cursing as two of the dogs hurl themselves across his thighs. He sighs, humor mixing with the frustration in his voice as he says, “No, Egg and Cheese. Get up. I told you; we’ll snuggle when we’re somewhere safe and this isn’t it.”
As if to underscore his words, another cracking sound splits the air as the trunk splinters more at the base.
The dogs on Sexy Stranger’s legs launch into startled motion, bolting across the parking lot toward the terminal entrance, where Bacon is wriggling in front of a man in a blue uniform. The man dangles something brown in the air above the dog, sending him into fresh paroxysms of excitement.