Page 48 of His Claim

I was about to show her just how sweet I could be.

Chapter Twenty

Tatum

“The fire is dying.”

Murphy’s light snoring was the only answer I got.

We were laid out on the living room floor in front of the fireplace with the credits rolling on Aquaman. Jason Mamoa had always given me a bit of a thrill, but Murphy was lying next to me to give me butterflies all night.

Even though he was sleeping right now, I would choose Murphy over anyone in the world, Jason Mamoa included.

Firewood needed to be brought in, and I didn’t want to wake him up to do it. He needed his sleep as much as I did, and right now, I wasn’t tired at all.

“I’ll be right back,” I whispered.

I slipped out from under the blanket and slipped my feet into a pair of Meg’s sandals.

The rain had finally tapered off, but it was still sprinkling. Lightning streaked across the sky when I opened the door, and the roll of thunder sounded in the distance. Maybe the bad weather hadn’t passed yet.

I left the front door open and made the fifty-yard dash to the woodpile by the shed on the side of the cabin.

“Whoa,” I laughed when I hit a puddle and my foot slipped. I managed to catch myself on the woodpile and loaded up my arms. Murphy had been the one to bring in the firewood and really anything around the cabin.

We had taken walks around, exploring the land around the cabin, but never at night.

“Tatum!”

I whirled around, surprised to see Murphy running toward me. “Hey,” I called. The wind picked up and whipped my hair around me.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

I reared back and juggled the wood in my arms. He sounded mad. Mad at me. “Uh, we ran out of firewood, and I came to get some. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

He grabbed the wood from me. “It’s not safe out here for you,” he growled.

“Because of the rain?” I asked. Another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, and the thunder rolled closer. “It’s just sprinkling.”

Murphy shook his head. “Get in the house!”

I didn’t know why he was so mad. “I was just trying to h–”

“Get in the house!” he roared.

I skirted around him, the rain pelting me with every step. I rounded the garage and ducked into the house.

Murphy was hot on my heels and slammed the front door.

“What are you so mad about?” I demanded.

He stalked to the fireplace and tossed the pile of wood at the log holder. “I know you think we’re in Lala land here, Tatum, but in case you forgot, there is a madman out there trying to kill me.”

I reared back and scowled. “When have I said we’re in Lala land?”

Murphy threw his arm at the door. “Well, you just strolled out of the house without a care in the world.”

“I was getting firewood.” I raised my voice and stepped toward him. “You were sleeping, and I didn’t think I needed to wake you up to get a few logs.”

---