Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
“Come on, we haven’t got all day.”
“You want me to get on your back?” Why is this so hard to believe? I clearly remember Nathan carrying me around when I was pregnant, not on his back but in his arms. Usually when I fell asleep downstairs.
“Yes.”
“But I’m heavy.”
“Gwen…” His tone is warning. I sigh and place my hands on his shoulders.
I squeal and almost pull away when he slides his hands up my thighs, lifting my dress out of the way before picking me up with ease. My arms automatically wrap around his strong neck.
Swooping down, he grabs the bag and hands it to me. I grip it tight in front of his chest as my thighs grip tight to his hips.
“I was hoping the first time I’d get your legs around me, it’d be in a different position,” Nathan comments crudely, his lips tipping up in a smirk.
What the hell do I say to that?
Nothing. I grab his nipple with my free hand and twist.
“Carrying you through demon grass here. If you hurt me, we’re both going down.”
Good point.
“Are you sure you can carry me all the way across there?” The distance looks daunting, like in a scary movie where the hallway just seems to get longer and longer. That’s how I feel right now.
“Too late to go back now.” He bunks me up a little and gives my legs a squeeze.
I am so glad I shaved my legs.
It takes a while and I can tell Nathan is getting tired by the time we pass the burned barn, which makes me feel sick and want to kill something.
“You burned the barn down didn’t you?” I ask.
He blows out a breath and squeezes my legs tighter to me. “Yes.”
I lean forward and press my lips to the shell of his ear for a long moment. My voice is a whisper when I tell him, “I would have done the same.”
“Stop talking.” He says it softly, kindly, almost pleadingly.
I kiss him again and press my forehead against the back of his head. “Okay.”
When we reach the edge of the grass I immediately drop to my feet and rub his back as he stretches. He grins, remaining silent as he takes the bag from me and pulls me forward.
“So, what’s going on with your jewellery?” I ask, stepping over a fallen log.
He shrugs. “I just haven’t put much thought into it as of late.”
“That’s a shame. I was planning on raiding your store when it opened.” I give him an honest smile and touch my bare neck. I miss my necklace.
“They aren’t that good.”
“The fact that I know you believe that to be true just goes to show what an idiot you can be some times.” I roll my eyes with my words and he smiles.
“You’re too sweet, Gwen.”
“I’m not saying it to be sweet, Nathan. I’m saying it because it’s true. You have serious talent and you’re wasting it every moment you’re not showing it off.”
“Hmm,” he murmurs, still walking.
Now I’m out of things to say.
“Are we nearly there yet?” I ask, although it’s not because I’m not enjoying myself. I am. This place is beautiful in the spring, what with all of the blossoms scattered across the hard dirt ground after floating in a flurry from the trees around us. It’s almost surreal.
“Nearly,” he says absently.
I go quiet again. I see that he needs to concentrate.
“Finally, I forgot which side it was on for a moment,” he says, scratching his head for a moment. Reaching forward, he pulls on something hidden by thick moss. “Look up.”
I do and what I see makes me gasp. “A tree house?”
A boyish grin comes over his face. “I found it when I was small. It’s well built. I’m assuming it belonged to my grandfather when he was a child; this land belonged to his father before him. My family apparently owned the entire village at one point, but back then it was nothing but trees and rocks. It should be safe. I came out here a few weeks back to check it out.”
Should be?
There’s a rattling noise when whatever he’s pulled on releases a sturdy looking wooden ladder that drops to the ground. It’s when he moves away that I notice the rope leading from the platform above to some strange wooden lever that is nailed into the thick tree.
“You go first,” he says and guides me to the ladder. “Don’t worry, it’s clean.”
“I thought I could smell bleach,” I mumble but I don’t think he hears me. Using my hands at head level, I test the strength of the ladder before taking that first step.
When I go up onto the third, Nathan follows directly behind, his head level with my shoulders and his hands either side of my ribs. I feel his chest against my back. It distracts me but I manage to not fall.