Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“I don’t want it to get less freaky.” My stomach roiled. “I think I’m going to go inside now.”
“Danny. Wait—” he called after me only to be cut off by the ring off his phone. “Damn it. It’s Duncan. No telling when I’ll get a signal again.”
“Take the call.” I swallowed hard, caustic taste filling my mouth. “I’ll be fine.”
I was lying, and he likely knew it, but he let me walk away as he answered the phone. I liked this trip so much more when I didn’t have to poke my head out of our bubble of make-believe. Maybe I was a decent actor after all.
Chapter Nineteen
Cash
I wanted to chase after Daniel, but Duncan was calling from Toronto, where it was late, and with an uncertain signal, I needed to listen. Damn it. I only really had half a brain for Duncan going over what he’d heard from the police in LA.
“I don’t like this detective they assigned the case to,” Duncan groused. There was a shuffling noise on his end like he was pacing.
“Me either, but as long as he does his job and catches the fucker, I don’t have to like his personality.” What I really needed was Duncan off the phone so I could go figure out why the gun had thrown Daniel for such a loop. There was only so much I could do from here on the investigation, a fact I tried not to dwell on because a part of me wanted to track this stalker with my own two hands.
“They keep focusing on Danny’s personal life.” Duncan continued his list of complaints about the case. A low hum sounded, likely the TV because Duncan was a total news addict. “They’re speculating it could be a vindictive ex or an old dealer. Really wish he’d run with a better crowd.”
“He’s trying now,” I said, not for the first time that conversation. Duncan seemed hell-bent on being all paternal and acting like Daniel was some fourteen-year-old troublemaker.
“He certainly seems to have you in his fan club.”
“We get along.” I was hedging, and I knew it. If I was smart, since there were several mountain ranges between us, I’d tell Duncan…what precisely? That his brother had offered me gay sex lessons, and I’d only too happily accepted? That was the technical truth and also nothing like the full truth, and until I sorted out for myself exactly what Daniel and I were doing, I wasn’t going to confess anything to Duncan.
“Getting along well enough to want to do more bodyguard work?” Duncan wheedled, tone far nicer now.
A sad version of Danny jumped in front of my brain, the way he could seem so lost at times, so far from his usual sunny self. Was I really just going to deposit him back in LA and walk away on some vague road trip quest? “Not sure.”
“Well, that’s a big improvement from hell no. Tell Danny thanks for softening you up.”
“Will do.” Soft was definitely not what Daniel made me. I glanced back toward the cabin.
“Damn it. I’ve got another call.” Duncan groaned. “I swear this job is making me want to stay home for a month after this gig. Let someone else take the jobs with travel. Someone like you with itchy feet.”
Did I have itchy feet? I had no fucking clue. In many ways, I had even less of an idea of what I wanted than I’d had before doing Duncan this favor. And yet, in other ways, my body seemed about ten steps ahead of my head, legs already carrying me back to the cabin. I was sure about where I needed to be right now, and with so much other uncertainty, I’d cling to that at least.
I safely stowed the gun and ammo before entering the cabin. Danny was sitting on the carpet in front of the TV. He’d swapped his jeans for a pair of shorts and was scrolling a list of yoga videos.
“Hey.” I waited for him to turn my direction, but he gave me the barest of nods, none of his usual sunniness. “You want company for bedtime yoga, or do you need some more alone time?”
“You really want to try more yoga?” He frowned, but his voice was more defeated than hostile. “I thought you kind of hated it.”
“It wasn’t terrible. I slept better than usual.” The orgasm so good it needed an explosive ordnance undoubtedly hadn’t hurt, but probably not the best to mention sex right then.
“That’s good.” He gestured in the direction of the sleeping nook. “You should probably put on some shorts. You don’t want to rip your jeans.”
I took that to mean I was invited to do yoga with him, so I followed orders and switched into shorts and ditched my shoes and socks while I was at it. I hurried back before he could change his mind.