His Christmas Bunny by Billie Jade Kermack

His Christmas Bunny by Billie Jade Kermack

Author:Billie Jade Kermack [Kermack, Billie Jade]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-30T16:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER

TEN

MIA

I wake to a racket from outside, the clunk and thwack of metal on wood making my head throb. Coffee, I need coffee.

For a moment I forget where I am and chance a glance around the broken down wall of pillows, most of which are now scattered on the floor beside the bed where they had likely toppled over during the night. Logan’s side of the bed is empty and pristinely made so it looks like the sheets have been pressed and never slept in. Throwing off the covers I get to my feet, planning to cross the room to the window, to see who I need to string up for the unnecessary banging at this ungodly hour. Eight AM should be for silence and caffeine consumption exclusively.

I consider shrugging on Logan’s robe that is slung over the end of the bed, but resist, opting instead to throw on my old band hoodie in desperate need of a good wash. Sleeping in his bed and swathed in his scent is enough of an intrusion, I don’t need to add stealing his clothes to my list of infractions. Pulling the sleeves of my jumper down over my hands, to stave off the trickle of winter air that is circulating in through the weathered mouldings of the single pane glass windows. I glance down into the back garden and almost gasp at the sight. The stark white backdrop of the snow covered grass, the frost bitten trees and the milky grey sky is a blank canvas for Logan, his jet black hair messily swept back, puffs of white clouds falling from his lips at his exertion. Unable to stop staring I allow myself a moment to appreciate every inch of him as he’s distracted with the task at hand. Wearing a pair of tattered denim jeans, the cuffs tucked into his signature black army boots, I realise Logan looks good in everything he wears, or doesn’t wear, I remind myself, remembering him in just a towel yesterday, water droplets running down his torso, a path I wouldn’t much mind making with my tongue.



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