Master of the Wilderness by Cherise Sinclair

Author:Cherise Sinclair [Sinclair, Cherise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: VanScoy Publishing Group

* * *

Considering the amount of seating in the huge living room, Erin decided the Mastersons must be used to having guests. Virgil and Sunny shared a couch with Patches, the small spaniel, curled up beside them. Morgan took a big easy chair.

On another couch, Wyatt had sat down right beside Erin—and the rub of his hip and hard thigh against hers was an unsettling comfort. Her inner self seemed to think if she was touching him, she was safe.

The room itself was made to be used. The furniture was soft and roomy. There were plenty of end tables and coffee tables for drinks and food.

And boy, they did have food. Coke and pizzas with a variety of toppings—mostly meat. A side of chicken wings. And potato salad because Morgan apparently loved the stuff.

Her, too, actually.

This was so nice. She was in a warm living room with an even warmer body beside her and Bat purring on her lap. Sunny’s Men in Black, an older action-adventure movie, was more comedy than serious.

The Mastersons weren’t a silent audience when it came to movies. Erin joined in, talking back to the movie, laughing at the jokes, cheering when the hero got in a good zinger.

It was the perfect distraction from her life.

Virgil and Sunny were adorable together. Morgan was quieter but with a great sense of humor.

When the movie was over, Sunny brought out dessert—vanilla ice cream smothered in fudge syrup on top of brownies.

“Oh, yum.” Erin put her hands together in a begging gesture.

“Ha.” Sunny grinned. “When Virgil called to say Wyatt was dragging you here for tonight, I knew just what to make.” During their meal at the Gold Dust, everyone had discussed favorite desserts.

Erin raised her eyebrows at Wyatt. “You dragged me here?”

Smirking, he pumped up his biceps. “It’s good to have muscles.”

With an effort, she yanked her gaze away—because O-M-G, the man had muscles.

“If he oversteps, Erin, let me know,” Virgil said in his deep voice. “I’ll shove him in a cell and throw away the key.”

“Pfft, Bat would defend me,” Wyatt said.

Recognizing his name, Bat perked up his ears and rubbed Erin’s hand for more pets.

Virgil grinned. “He’s turning into a fine ranch cat. You did good, bro.”

With a twitch of his tail, Bat lay his head back down, his chin resting on Erin’s thigh. And she knew just how he felt.

This was a warm and happy place.

And had wonderful desserts. Finishing the last bite, she sighed. “This was amazing, Sunny. Thank you.”

Sunny smiled. “Chocolate never fails to make me feel better.”

“So, Ms. Lockwood, tomorrow, we’ll get your security password changed, and the locks rekeyed—just in case. And do clean-up.” Wyatt stroked her shoulder, looking down at her. “How’s your gut feeling? And your headache?”

“How did you know?” The movie and food had been great, but her head still hurt.

“I’ve gotten thumped a time or two.” His smile was wry. “And everything hurts more in the evening.”

“No shit.” Morgan smiled at her. “Want Tylenol or ibuprofen?”

“I would die for ibuprofen.

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