Bad Boy's Captive: An Enemies to Lovers Romance by Bella King

Author:Bella King [King, Bella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Devin’s voice says.

I try to ignore it. I’m dreaming about hamburgers, and I don’t want to be disturbed.

“Hey, I’m not going to let you sleep in the car.”

I groan and swat my hand around, hoping that he’ll leave me alone.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing my wrist and yanking me back to consciousness.

“Fucking hell,” I exclaim as I’m jerked up out of my sleep. I’m not happy to be awoken like this, but I knew that it would happen. Devin isn’t going to let me sleep in the car if he plans on camping. He needs to keep an eye on me so that I don’t escape in the night.

Even after all this, I’ll run if he gives me the chance.

“It’s not that bad,” Devin says, “But it’s getting chilly outside. I’m going to make a fire. Let’s go.”

I rub my eyes with the backs of my hands and then stretch. I look out the window to see that it’s deep into the night, and the sun is long gone. I must have been asleep for a few hours, but it doesn’t feel like it. I’m just as tired as I was before.

Devin hops out of the car, and I join him, following him around as he retrieves supplies from the back seat. He leans over, and I admire his backside.

Damn, why does he have to be so cute? He doesn’t seem to have a single flaw, physically, aside from some sloppy tattoos on one of his arms that look like they were done in someone’s house instead of a studio. I can overlook that. In fact, they add character.

“Take these,” Devin says, turning around with an armful of firewood.

Before I have the chance to protest, he drops the heavy load in my arms and turns back around. “Ugh,” I say, adjusting the rough logs. “What am I supposed to do with these?”

“Take them to a good spot, not too far from the truck, and we’ll make a fire,” he replies.

I squint in the darkness. I’m not going to stray far from the car in the Texas desert. It’s dangerous out here at night. I’ve seen news about grown men being hunted down by wild animals and eaten. It’s no joke.

I walk a few feet away from Devin and look for a place to set the firewood down. Most of the area has too many brambly plants, but I find a clearing about two yards away from the truck. I drop the logs into the dry soil and turn back to Devin.

“Is this fine?” I ask.

He turns around with the nearly empty can of petrol in his hand. “Oh, yes. That’s perfect.” He shuts the back door of the car and walks over to me, his shoulders swinging with a dominant swagger. He looks good in the night like he belongs to the shadows and would disappear in the morning. I doubted that would happen, though. He seems intent on sticking around.

I watch as Devin arranges the wood in a way that allows airflow, putting the smallest sticks in a nook at the bottom of the pile.

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