Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 46587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
I wanted this job, wanted to be here, in this house, in this place; with him. In fact now that I was here it felt almost like it was the best thing ever.
His voice droned on and on as he explained where everything was and about the connecting door between my room and the nursery. His voice that seemed to have a strange affect on my senses.
I wondered as I looked at him if he realized that I could barely grasp the words as they fell from his lips? If he knew that my mind was no longer here in the room?
It felt like time stood still one minute and the next I was losing time and space. I’ve been off the medication for a few weeks now but maybe I should’ve checked with my doctor before coming here.
Though I don’t remember this being one of the things he’d warned me about after I came to. How could I possibly be reliving something that had never been?
But as Callan stood there talking it all seemed so familiar, like I’d heard it before, standing right here in this very room. Nausea hit me in the gut just as the room began to spin and I reached out a hand.
When I came to I was laying on the bed with him sitting next to me holding a wet cloth against my forehead.
“What happened?” I tried to sit up but he held me down with a hand on my shoulder. “No don’t get up. I think the heat has gotten to you.” I felt my head and breathed a sigh of relief at his easy explanation.
Yes, that must be it. The heat along with all the turbulent emotions of the past few weeks had finally caught up with me. I felt easy again once my mind settled on that.
“I’m sorry I’m being such a pain. I’m not usually this weak.” His smile was reassuring and so was the hand he kept on the cloth he held against my heated skin.
“Stop apologizing, no one here will judge you.” I’m gonna have to get used to his voice and the way it makes me feel. And his closeness too.
I can’t seem to gather my thoughts when I’m this close to him. I have a feeling though, that if I keep staring at him the way I am he might get the wrong idea.
I almost groaned in protest when he took his hand away before getting to his feet. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” He’d walked away as he spoke but my eyes were busy looking at his physique and I missed it all.
When he left the room and came back with a glass of water I figured that’s what he’d been saying. “Here sit up, let’s get some of this in you.”
He helped me sit up and held the glass to my lips and I had to remind myself to swallow. This is ridiculous. If I keep this up I won’t last one day on the job.
I’m sure there’s a rule against lusting after your boss. And really, I don’t mean to since it’s not my style, but everything about the man seems to be getting to me.
His scent seemed familiar. He smelt like the outdoors. Like sunshine and wind. His scent went with the locale and even though he was dressed in jeans and a tee shirt like every other man in the city, they didn’t seem to fit.
I keep imagining him dressed more formally, like maybe he should be wearing a cravat and a gentleman’s hat. And his voice with its familiar southern drawl, just sent my imagination soaring.
I grew embarrassed once again when I realized he’d caught me staring. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if we’d ever met before, but at the last minute I decided that I’d already been weird enough for one day.
We looked at each other wordlessly until a sound coming from downstairs broke us out of our reverie. That only left me thinking. I knew what my problem was, but what was his excuse?
That Trudy person or whoever she was is a knockout. Not that I’m not a beauty in my own right, but I know when I’m beat. Didn’t most men go for the blonde svelte type? My ex sure did.
I felt the old familiar feeling of self-doubt and inadequacy I’ve been plagued with since the truth of his betrayal came to light. But this time, the feel of Callan’s hand on my cheek was enough to make them disappear.
He looked at me as though he could read my thoughts. I hope not. The last thing I need is for one more human being to know what a screw up I am.
“It’s going to be okay; you’re here now.” There was so much meaning in those words and yet, I have no idea what any of them were. What did he mean?