AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Londyn wasn’t a fashionista or in any way particular about her clothes, but not having any was proving to be frustrating. At this point, she would gladly wear a Yellowstone National Park sweatshirt. “That would help since we’re not sure when Hank and his wife will head this way.”
He snagged a clean T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans from his duffel bag. “I’ll be back in two shakes.”
Londyn’s gaze followed him as he ducked into the bedroom. If she wasn’t mistaken, the man hadn’t taken any underwear with him. Were the boxer briefs an anomaly for Nash? Did he prefer to go commando beneath his jeans?
Her heartbeat kicked up a notch at the thought of his naked, fine ass inside the snug denim jeans.
Her lady parts tingled at the thought of slipping her hands beneath the waistband of his jeans and cupping his bare skin.
Londyn threw her hands in the air.
What is wrong with me?
She dropped the sweatpants on the sofa, marched into the little kitchenette and yanked open the refrigerator. “I don’t know him from Adam. He could be a serial killer, a mama’s boy, or worse.” Yet, she was fantasizing about putting her hands down his pants to cop a feel.
Her core heated as the image filled her mind again. “Eggs.” She grabbed a carton of eggs and stopped short of slapping it on the counter. She found bacon in one of the drawers. This time, she did slap it onto the counter, finding it strangely satisfying to take her frustration out on a package of bacon.
After she located a pan and spatula, she made quick work of frying the bacon and then cooking scrambled eggs in the bacon grease.
She’d just scraped the eggs onto two plates when Nash emerged from the bedroom, barefooted and wearing nothing but jeans.
The view of his broad, bare chest sucked the air right out of her lungs. Her hand loosened on the handle of the frying pan, and it slipped free.
Londyn dove to grab it before it hit the floor. Instead of catching it by the handle, she caught the hot pan with her fingers. “Fuck!”
Rather than drop it again, she tossed it toward the sink, where it clattered against the stainless steel.
Nash rushed forward. “Hey, did you burn yourself?” He took her hands in his and frowned down at them.
“It’s okay,” she said, her left hand turning red where it had connected with the hot pan.
“No, it’s not,” he said, guiding her toward the sink. “Let’s get it under some cool water.”
Still holding her injured hand, he turned on the sink water, checked that it was cold and then moved her hand beneath the spray.
Though the water was cool on the burn, having Nash as close as he was and half-naked was making Londyn hot everywhere else but her hand.
Hell, he even smelled good.
She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath through her nose, letting the scent of the man fill her lungs.
Wow.
No man had the right to smell that good.
“Are you okay?” his voice brought her back to earth.
Londyn’s eyes popped open.
Nash was studying her face, his own so close she could feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek.
Heat rose up her neck and filled her cheeks. She snatched her hand away, dripping water across the floor. “Breakfast is ready,” she said, her voice tight and embarrassingly squeaky.
He grabbed a dishtowel and reached for her hand. “Let me dry your hand.”
She plucked the towel from his grasp. “I can do that. You’ll want to eat while the food is still warm.”
He frowned but didn’t push the issue. Instead, he carried both plates, full of fluffy scrambled eggs, to the small table.
