Lonely Beard (Mail Order Mountain Book 2) by Cassie Mint

Author:Cassie Mint [Mint, Cassie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Cherry Publishing
Published: 2022-09-28T16:00:00+00:00

Five

Grace

I have no previous experience of The Aftermath, obviously, but so far it sucks. All the warm, happy feelings of an hour ago are long gone, and as I sit up by the fire, I shiver despite the wall of scorching heat by my side.

“Aiden.”

He’s pushing to his feet, expression stony, cheeks still flushed from his time spent buried between my thighs.

Oh, god. I’m still so slick and tingly down there. It felt amazing a few minutes ago, but now that the mood is gone, it’s just uncomfortable. I pluck my panties off the rug nearby, heart tapping sickly against my ribs as I pull them back on.

This is the worst.

Did I do something wrong? Is my body secretly really weird down there?

Or is it that stupid joke I made about his Soulmate profile? No, it can’t have been that. Because he agreed with me, like I wasn’t joking at all, and oh god, is he really going to sign back up after this? Will I have to match Aiden McRae with other women?

Nuh-uh. No way. I have a freaking heart, damn it, and it’s crumbling to ash at the mere thought. Someone else at Soulmate Express can take over his file.

“Is everything okay?” I wrap my arms around my legs and rest my chin on my knees. Still can’t seem to get warm.

Aiden’s stomping around the cabin, too busy to acknowledge my question. He clears up the leftovers from dinner and pauses by the log burner to stoke the fire; he pulls back a curtain to check on the storm.

Now that he’s kept his distance for a few minutes, you’d never know anything happened between us at all. The blush has faded from his cheeks, and he’s refastened his shirt buttons. Grace who?

“Aiden?” I sound miserable, even to my own ears.

Still peering through the dark glass out at the trees, he sighs, those broad shoulders dropping.

“Storm’s still going.” Would he want me to leave otherwise? Ouch. “You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the rug.”

Ouch, ouch, ouch. I bite my lip to keep my face from crumpling.

“You, um.” I clear my throat. “You shouldn’t have to give up your bed. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“My austere sofa?” He turns to face me at last, humor flickering through those green eyes, but it doesn’t last. “No, you won’t be comfortable. And I don’t mind the floor.”

Neither do I, damn it. I don’t care where I freaking sleep, I just want this horrible tension between us to be gone. I want to be able to swallow without this stupid lump in my throat, and I want Aiden to look at me again like he did before we tumbled into each other’s arms.

Softly. Like he was glad I was here.

“You could join me in the bed?” I rasp, because apparently my bruised heart can’t take a hint.

Aiden shakes his head, and I squeeze my arms tighter around my shins. Like I could crumple myself into a tiny ball and escape these sickly feelings.

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