Page 87 of Bookworm and the Beast
Bonnie
Early the next morning, I sat at the desk in the library, sipping hot coffee and enjoying the warmth of the fireplace while listening to the noises of the rest of the household waking—the faraway clanking of pots and pans in the kitchen, the sound of Harrison’s footsteps on the marble floor outside the library, the dim whine of lawn equipment as Calvin got started on his day.
They were the sounds of life in Jack’s home—a home I’d be sharing someday soon.
By choice.
Just the thought of it made me feel like I’d swallowed a hundred helium balloons, like I might drift up to the high coffered ceiling and bump my head on one of its dark beams.
Yesterday had been like a dream come true. First, the beach, then sex with Jack. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before, and I couldn’t wait until his book was done and we were free and clear to experience a whole lotmoreof it.
Then, the two of us had worked late, writing in the library together. It felt to me like there had never been a more perfect pairing.
And though I’d been tempted to simply sit and stare at his handsome profile as he typed, I did manage to get a lot done on my new book-in-progress.
We’d gone upstairs together, and I’d begged him to come to bed with me. But he said he needed to go up to his office and keep writing—at least for a few more hours—in order to meet his looming deadline.
I loved his work ethic. I loved how much he cared about his books and his readers. I lovedeverythingabout him.
I’d expected to sleep like a log after the eventful day, but as it happened, I’d been too excited to fall asleep. Anticipating our future together felt like all the Christmas Eves I’d ever had as a child rolled up into one.
So finally, at around four-thirty this morning, I’d gone ahead and gotten up, slipped out of the bedroom so I wouldn’t wake him, made a pot of coffee in the kitchen, and come back to the library.
First, I’d answered the emails I’d missed during my forced hiatus from the internet. Then I’d returned a few texts.
Now I was back at work on my laptop, cranking out a new chapter of my first draft. It was going surprisingly well. I’d never been an early bird, but this experience might change me.
There was something so quiet and peaceful about the early morning hours, and my mind was entirely focused on the task at hand. Well, maybe notentirely.
Any minute now, Jack will be up.
A big silly grin overtook my face as my belly filled with bubbles of anticipation.
It was hard to wait when all I wanted was to go slip back into bed with him and wake him up myself—the fun way. But he’d stayed up into the wee hours of morning—I wasn’t even sure what time he’d finally come to bed. I wouldn’t disturb his sleep by bounding into his room at this young hour.
And then someone came bounding into the library. “Charging” might have been a better word.
It was Jack. And he wasn’t happy.
I stood up, surprised by his sudden entrance and stormy expression. “Jack. Hi. What’s going on?”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t look at me. He went straight to the chair where my purse sat, picked it up and turned it over, shaking it to empty all its contents.
What on Earth?
I moved toward him as he sifted through the items now scattered across the chair’s leather seat. Had he lost something?
“Jack… what are you doing? What are you looking for?”
Finally, he looked up at me. The glower on his face made me fall back a step.
“Where is it?” he demanded.
My heart lurched forward, leaving nausea in its wake. “Where is what?”
“The flash drive or whatever you used. I’ve already been through your room. It must be here.”
“What are you talking about? What flash drive? Used for what?”
