Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Her speed slows as she approaches my driveway, and the moment I can make out her face through the windshield of her old Honda Civic, something eases in my chest. She pulls up to the curb and cuts the engine as I make my way down the driveway toward her car.
The rain is heavy against the windows, making it too hard to make out the more subtle features of her face, but I see her clearly enough to know her eyes are on me. I can feel it.
Striding up to the driver’s door, I open it for her, and the way her gaze lifts to meet mine through the darkness—those big green trusting eyes—is crippling. She’s looking at me as though I’m her fucking savior, and as much as I want to swoop in and save the day, I can’t be that for her.
It’s too dangerous. I can’t allow myself to get too close, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to leave her to fend for herself. As soon as I figure out who the fuck has been tormenting her at work and put a fucking stop to it, I’ll have no choice but to force distance between us again.
She’s off limits. My step-niece. I shouldn’t crave her like this.
Her gaze wavers, and when she lets out a shaky breath, I realize that whatever happened at work still has her rattled. “Come on, Morticia,” I say, offering her my hand. “Come inside and tell me what the fuck is going on.”
Harper visibly swallows before gently placing her small hand in mine and allowing me to help her out of the car. Her skin is blazing against mine, sending shock waves through my body, and for a fleeting second, I panic that she can sense the kind of effect she has over me, but she’s far too shaken to see what’s right in front of her face.
I do what I can not to hold her hand for too long, and after she clambers out of her car, I take her bag, close the door behind her, and then watch as she rushes through the rain.
“Fuck. It’s cold,” she mutters, darting through the puddles pooling on my driveway.
It’s a short dash to my front door, and by the time she reaches it, she looks like a cold drowned rat with her arms crossed over her chest, silently shivering. Goosebumps spread across her skin, and my selfish stare lingers way too long, knowing just how quickly I could warm her up.
Goddamn it. What I wouldn’t give to fuck the goosebumps out of her system.
Harper doesn’t barge into my house, just simply waits for me to open the door and welcome her in. I don’t know why I expected—hoped—for anything different. I want her to be comfortable enough to stride through the door like she owns the place, but in reality, she’s never been here before. She shouldn’t feel comfortable, and I shouldn’t want her to.
Off. Fucking. Limits.
After opening the door, I wave her through, and as she hurries past me, her perfume hits my senses. I breathe her in, immediately intoxicated by her scent.
My hands ball into fists at my sides, and I call on every ounce of self-control not to slam this door for the sole purpose of throwing her up against it and claiming every single fucking inch of her. Instead, I close the door like a normal fucking human being and follow her into my home.
“Take a seat. Make yourself comfortable,” I murmur, indicating toward my couch as I stride past her. “I’ll grab you a towel to dry off.”
“Thanks,” Harper says in a small voice as water drips off both of us.
I make my way down my hall to the linen closet and grab a towel before turning on my heel and heading straight back to her. Only she’s not sitting down. She’s hovering in the corner and carefully toeing off her shoes as though terrified of traipsing water through my home.
I resist the urge to smile as I hand her the towel, and she awkwardly thanks me again before drying her face and arms. I reach for my tactical belt and unclip it, and as I feel her stare on me, I glance up to see the way her eyes are locked on my movements, sailing over my body and lingering on the way my wet black shirt sticks to my skin.
I clear my throat, and Harper’s gaze snaps back to mine. “Take a seat, Morticia. Tell me what the fuck is going on.”
“Right.”
Harper blows out a shaky breath and makes her way over to my couch as I drop my tactical belt on the hallway table. She sits down, and as I cut through my living room to join her, those big green eyes track my every step.