Page 54 of Dust Storm

I had just slipped out of the shower when the front door opened. Bree and Gracie’s voices filled the house. The dog joined in, raising the volume to an ear-piercing decibel.

I listened from the solitude of the simple guest room. Christian’s deep timbre calmed the chaos.

Muffled voices clouded together as they hung out for a few minutes before he sent them to bed and doled out goodnight kisses.

The bathroom door clicked and locked, and the shower squeaked on.

After failing to focus on a few chapters of a murder mystery I swiped from Christian’s bookshelf, I took a chance and tiptoed out of the bedroom, heading for the porch.

I missed the amenities of big-city living, but maybe Becks was onto something when she talked about taking a break from it all.

I used to be afraid of slowing down. If I slowed, I’d have to confront the things I was running from.

If I sat in peace and quiet, I couldn’t drown out my intuition with hustle and bustle.

Being kicked out of my beloved city and put on a strict social media blackout forced me to sit with myself.

I hated it.

Silently, I closed the guest room door behind me and rounded the corner as the bathroom door opened.

Christian stepped out with a towel wrapped low around his hips and tucked under his belly. Steam clouded around him as droplets of water clung to his arms and chest.

My heart rammed in my ribcage as I took in the bear of a man in front of me.

His hair hung in long, damp strands. His beard glimmered from the shower like it was covered in diamonds. I wasn’t usually attracted to chest hair.Or at least I didn’t think I was. Tripp always waxed his.

But Christian…

He was soft everywhere, but unmistakably strong. His bulk was sexy. Rugged, but still safe. I was drawn to him like a mothto a porch light. I ached to know what it was like to be in his arms. To feel the potent mix of comfort and attraction.

His eyes were soft as he looked at me with an uncanny warmth.

“Hey.” The single syllable was gruff, but tender.

“Hi,” I said on an exhale.

His solid frame shook as he shifted, holding the towel together with one heavy hand. Dark brown hair ran from his navel down to…

I wanted him to drop that towel.

The realization slammed into me, stealing the wind out of my sails.

What the hell was I doing?

“About today?—”

“It’s fine,” I blurted out.

Christian shook his head, then said the sexiest thing I had ever heard. “It’s not fine. I told you I’d be there, and I wasn’t. So, I’m sorry.”

I was so fucked.

12

CHRISTIAN

Cassandra looked at me, wide-eyed and blinking. She looked baffled.

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