Would one of them come in later?Did she want them to?
Annoyed by all the questions fluttering through her brain, she huffed and rolled over onto her side.When she felt the yawning space at her back, she bit her lip, and changed her mind.
Yes.She did want one of them to come in and take up the other half of the huge bed.She’d slept uneasily last night until Marc had come and put her at ease when he’d taken up the other side.
He’d been doing that since her arrival.Waiting until the early hours to come to bed, then letting her slide against him, seeking comfort from his generous form.
She hated sleeping alone.Hated big beds.Sleep was a commodity that few realized was totally precious.Ever since she’d been…
El closed her eyes, refusing to think about that while she thought about the last few days instead.
They’d been slow for her.She’d chosen to stay at the lodge, even though she knew there had to be a whole heap of people who wanted to meet her.She was their leader’s mate, after all.
But her mates had let her bury her head in the sand by staying here and cooking for them.She’d baked more damn cookies than the Girl Scouts.
She thought they were glad she was willing to stay here, not rake up a fuss about going about her normal routine while the threat was still out there.
What they didn’t realize was this was the norm for her.The threat had never not been there.So, she’d taken a chance to play Betty Crocker, and had buried them in cookies and cheesecake.
Not that they were complaining.Trip came sniffing around for something sweet most often, but Ryan hovered around the kitchen too.Shawn watched over her as was his want—he wasn’t her security detail anymore but he seemed to be forgetting that, sometimes standing in the kitchen with her as she baked but saying very little, while Marc would have grand discussions over her cookie technique—they’d already tried ten different variants of her grandmother’s cookie recipe.Some with butter, the next variant with oil.Only brown sugar in one batch, a mix of white and brown in another.Stuff like that.
It was amazing how that kind of simple task had soothed her.
Being around the men, there being no pressure at all to conform or to commit, simply to be… it had worked wonders for her.She was feeling far less frantic, a lot more grounded.
Well, she had been until today when she’d overheard Marc and Ryan discussing if they were letting the gentling go too far.
Gentling?
Just the word made her want to poke them in the eyes.
But, though she’d felt manipulated at first—a standard knee-jerk reaction for anyone, she’d felt certain—she’d heard no malice in their voices.If anything, they were concerned.For her.
They were always concerned for her though.Worried to their very bones.
Whenever they came in the kitchen to find her, they sought her out with wary eyes as if they thought she’d have run off by now.When relief settled in next, she watched them relax around her, but they were always making sure she was okay.That she had enough produce.Did she need any more?Was she bored?Didn’t she want to explore the grounds?
Their concern could have been cloying, but for someone who had been pretty much ignored by her family, it was like a warm embrace.
But after hearing about this ‘gentling’, she had to wonder if some ‘roughing’ was coming next.And as she felt certain they’d chop off their own hands rather than hurt her intentionally… that had to mean sex.So, tonight, she’d been preoccupied as hell, and had been fumbling around trying to figure out what was going on with her bedroom door which, soon, would require a revolving unit for all the men who’d be in and out on a nightly basis.
Almost like the thought had been a catalyst, a tap sounded at the door.She shot up in bed.“Who is it?”
“Trip.”
She blinked.“Come in.”
The door opened and Trip stepped in with a bright smile.“You comfortable in there, princess?”
“Not really,” she said honestly, then watched as he started to unfasten his shirt.She watched him, gaze glued to the buttons as he unpopped them.
She did appreciate how all four of her men lived in suits.
She’d once seen a meme on Facebook.“Suits are for women as lingerie is for men.”She totally concurred.
Four of her men.
The notion was crazy but true.
