“Sore.”
“Still feel sick?”
“No, but I don’t think I’ll ever eat steak again.” I cringe at the memory. I ask, “Still planning on keeping me here?”
“Yeah.”
I groan. “In that case, I do want to have fun.”
I swear he moves closer. What happened to not mixing business with pleasure?
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Got any board games around here?”
He laughs. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I’m a little sad when he throws back the covers and pads into the bathroom. Damn, it’s not a terrible sight, though. He’s muscular and there are tattoos covering his tan skin. The most noticeable is three bear claw marks with the word Behr under it on his left shoulder. Must be some kind of family logo or something.
The shower turns on and I fall against the mattress. Do I want to stay here while they go after Wolfe, or is it in my best interest to get the hell out of here while I can? I’m unsure, and that bothers me. I always have a plan, and I never depend on anyone.
The water turns off and Atticus pads into the room a moment later, towel around his waist. Good lord. Talk about panty dropping. He even has that v-thing by his hips that can drive a girl crazy.
“I was hoping you’d join me in there, angel.”
Can you orgasm just by hearing someone speak? Because I think I just did.
“Sorry, gramps.”
He laughs and says, “Oliver had some clothes ordered. They’re in the closet if you want to shower and clean up.”
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I pad past him into the closet. Sure enough, there are three bags. One is filled with lacy undergarments that either a man or stripper would pick out. The other two bags have a variety of jeans, shirts, sweaters, and a few dresses. Nice. The boots in a box might be the best thing ever. I can’t remember the last time I had new boots. Other than the undies, this is what I’d pick out for myself. I do grab a blue lacy thong, some jeans, and an oversized sweater. My shoulder hurts, and I don’t think I’ll be able to wear a bra just yet.
I didn’t get a good look at the shower situation when I was snooping yesterday. This shower…damn. It’s what dreams are made of. Pretty sure four people could fit comfortably inside. My mind goes immediately to the Behr brothers with me sandwiched between them. Good lord. That’s a nice visual, but one that’s going to get me in trouble.
Turning on the water, I step under the spray. Everything aches, but this feels nice. Too nice. Things like this are dangerous for people like me. If we’re not careful, we forget who we are and where we come from. A mistake I won’t make again. Hurrying, I finish and step out of the shower. There’s a towel that I hope is for me.
After I’m dried, I dress in my new clothes. My hair is getting long, so it takes a moment to comb it out. I really hope Atticus doesn’t mind that I’m using his stuff. When I’m finished, I pad back to the bedroom where I put my new boots on. There. I feel better already.
Opening the door, I find Finn standing in the hallway.
“Are you…waiting on me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Making sure you don’t try to run.” He eyes me. “Or steal anything.”
That’s fair, I suppose.
Pushing past him, I say, “Lucky for you I almost died last night, so the thought of running isn’t appealing today. Where can a girl get some non-poisoned food around here?”
“We don’t know if it was poisoned,” he says as he falls in step with me.
Where Atticus is tall, dark, and broody, Finn is light and carefree upon first glance. Of course, I know that he really has a stick up his butt. I think back to his clinically clean room. This guy needs to live a little. Then I wonder if he’s taken a shower yet. I bite back a grin. I’m guessing not, because I really think he will lose his shit when he sees my message.
Going down the stairs hurts my body, to the point that I’m sweating when we reach the landing.