Page 31 of Lost in You

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Trinity

Linc gives me an approving look as I finish eating the bowl of oatmeal he made me for breakfast.

“Feeling better?” he asks.

“Yes. I felt like I was about thirty percent myself for the past few days, and today, it’s more like sixty. My headache is almost gone.”

“Good.”

“The brown sugar and raisins in that oatmeal were really good.”

“The only thing that was missing was some really good butter. When we make it back home, I’ll make you a bowl with butter, too, and you’ll see.”

I smile, thinking about home and how much I miss it. “Home’s two different places for us, though.”

He cringes. “You must hate living in Chicago.”

“Not at all, I love it there.”

“It’s a fun city to visit, but it’s too much for me. Traffic’s crazy.”

“Yeah, I have a car but I don’t really drive it except for weekends.”

He leans back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his chest. I try not to look too thirsty as I check out his arms, the definition of his muscles showing through the gray thermal shirt he’s wearing.

“What’s your place like?” he asks me.

“My apartment?” I laugh lightly. “It’s tiny. I live downtown and apartments are stupid expensive there. It’s a one-bedroom and my bed is lofted to make room for my desk beneath it. My living room and kitchen are small and overflowing with plants. Karma has a cat hammock in the living room window where she lies all day and passes judgment on everyone who walks by.”

“What color is Karma?”

“She’s the most beautiful shade of gray.” I walk over to the sink with my breakfast bowl and spoon. “What about you? Do you live in a brothel?”

He grins. “Not even close, smart-ass. I have a house on the outskirts of Minneapolis.”

“Is it furnished, or are you one of those bed, big screen and recliner guys?”

“Fully furnished. I’ve even got two guest rooms.”

I arch my brows, impressed. “Look at you, hosting people. Do you leave clean towels stacked on the bed and a chocolate on their pillows?”

“Fuck no. My housekeeper makes the beds and all that.”

I use snow water to rinse my dishes in the sink. “Dalton refuses to stay the night with me when he’s in Chicago because I only have a love seat and one chair in my living room. My mom is so short she can fit on the love seat just fine.”

“Dalton’s a puss about that stuff.”

“Tell me about it.”

I grab a towel to dry the dishes, our eyes locking for a second. When I’m standing this close to him, our height difference seems more pronounced. I’ve never been with a man as tall as him or as in shape.

He looks away and clears his throat. “I’m gonna head out.”

I don’t let my disappointment show. He’s going in a different direction today in search of help. I’m feeling better and the swelling in my ankle has gone down, so the least I can do is stay here and pass the time while he hikes through two feet of snow trying to get us rescued.

“Do you want to take some food?” I ask.

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