Valentine Wishes (Baxter Academy Book 1) by Jane Charles

Author:Jane Charles [Charles, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Night Shift Publishing
Published: 2016-02-08T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

I’m in the shower forever. It’s as if I can’t get clean. I don’t even know who the guy is and he never came near me, but I feel violated all the same. The guy’s been watching me and knew when I was with Brett. It’s creepy.

Well, so much for waiting until the weekend to talk again, not that I rather be anywhere else. I love my family but I feel safe with Brett. I don’t know if it’s because he’s an FBI agent or because he’s so protective of me. I just hope whoever has been texting me doesn’t try and hurt him. That I could not live with.

I wrap a towel around my head and after drying off, pull a thick, fluffy robe on.

Brett’s sitting with his back against the headboard watching television. At the knock in the door, I jump back in the bathroom and close the door, but not before I see Brett grab his gun and slip it in the back of his jeans. Setting the lock on the door, I hold my breath and wait. Why would anybody be at our door? My family knew we were coming to Albany, but not where we were staying. It isn’t like there’s only one hotel here.

“You can come out,” Brett calls and I blow out the breath I’ve been holding.

“Who was that?”

“Room service.” He grins at me. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He lifts the lids on the trays. “Burgers, fries and beers okay?”

My stomach grumbles. I hadn’t even realized I was hungry but I haven’t had anything since breakfast and it’s already past my normal supper time. “Thanks.”

I climb up on the bed next to him instead of sitting at the table and we eat burgers, fries, drink our beers and watch TV just like normal.

But, this isn’t normal. I’m in a hotel room that’s little over an hour from my home, hiding, with Brett, and no idea which guy on the list has been texting me. This is not normal.

When we’re finished eating, Brett takes the tray and sets it outside of our door, and returns to the bed. I curl up against him, sipping the rest of my beer, staring at the TV. I have no clue what I’m even watching or the story to go with it.

I can’t concentrate on shit right now. Instead of trying to figure out the show, I go back into the bathroom and change into my pajamas and run a comb through my hair before blowing it dry. It’ll still be damp in the morning if I go to sleep with it wet and I’m sure Brett probably doesn’t want to sleep with someone who has wet hair.

When I come back out he’s still in the same place except he’s no longer wearing jeans but comfortable looking pajama bottoms. Thank goodness he’s not just in boxers. I like Brett and everything, the last thing I want to do tonight is have sex and I think he gets that.

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