Bloodrunner Dragon (Harper's Mountains Book 1) by T. S. Joyce

Author:T. S. Joyce [Joyce, T. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wicked Willow Press
Published: 2016-04-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Clack…

Clack…

Clack…

Harper squinted her eyes open then moved the pillow she was hugging over her face to shield it from the sunlight streaming through the window. What were the boys doing this early? It didn’t sound like chopping wood, but it had the same kind of echo.

Clack.

With a low rumble in her throat, she clicked her fire-starter once in agitation, then threw the covers off and rocked out of bed. One look in the mirror, and she yelped. She’d showered late last night after she and Wyatt had returned from their woodland boinking, and now she looked like she’d stuck a fork in a socket.

The noise continued as she brushed her teeth, straitened her hair, put on her make-up, and dressed. Curious, she kicked Weston’s blankets out of the way of the door, then made her way out into the living room.

Aaron and Weston were sitting on the couch, just two grown men watching cartoons and eating straight out of the cereal boxes. Aaron tilted his head back and drank from the milk jug. Gross.

“Wyatt made you oatmeal an hour ago,” Weston said without turning around. The cartoon was a trio of bouncing bears, dancing to a ridiculously annoying song about apricots and berries.

She moved to the table, peeked over the rim of the white ceramic bowl, and couldn’t help the smile that stretched her face. He’d topped her oatmeal with honey, raisins, and cinnamon, just like she used to eat every day for breakfast her junior and senior year before Wyatt drove her to school.

He remembered.

Clack.

Harper grabbed the bowl and a spoon and meandered around the couch. Weston was wearing his favorite camouflage hat, and today Aaron had gelled back his longer blond hair. The crunching sound of their eating was constant as they took turns dumping cereal into their maws.

Aaron turned to another station, but it was just another cartoon. “God, the channels suck here,” he muttered. And yet he kept watching.

Shaking her head, Harper made her way around the tossed blankets all over the floor where the boys had slept last night and onto the porch.

Clack.

The slap of a baseball against leather gloves was what she’d been hearing. Wyatt was playing catch with Ryder from an insane distance apart. The ball blurred through the air, barely visible it was so fast. Ryder caught it and hissed. “Damn, James, you haven’t missed a step.”

Wyatt had been the pitcher for their little league team when they were kids. Weston’s dad and Wyatt’s dad had coached the kids from Damon’s mountains until they outgrew the sport. Harper sat down on the top porch stair since it was the only one not broken from the vampire attack that first night. Someone had hosed the vamp ashes from the porch, thank goodness.

She ate her cold oatmeal and smiled shyly when Wyatt gave her that sexy wink and crooked smile he used to be known for. Whew, he always drove the girls in the crews wild. He was the oldest—the chill, smart, confident one who had the biggest, baddest bear inside of him.

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