Nash: A Rough Romance by Piper Stone (book series for 12 year olds txt) 📕

I could swear this was nothing but a premonition as to what was to come. “Fine.”

“Fine,” he said, laughing then shoving the gun in his waistband behind his back. “While you obviously have no clue how to handle a gun, you missed by two inches. You better thank God you did. You definitely need a firm hand.”

I opened my mouth, about a dozen nasty retorts shifting into my mind. “What?”

“You heard me.” He stormed toward the door, slamming it shut before bending over.

And all I could think about was what a nice ass he had in the tight pair of jeans. I closed my eyes briefly, rubbing my forehead before folding my arms. This was an absolute nightmare.

“Go sit on the couch,” he said as he reared up, several pieces of wood in his hand. “Now!”

There was no reason for me to obey him, but I did, taking long strides toward the couch and plopping down, immediately grabbing the blanket.

Reaper dropped the wood on the hearth, crouching down and shoving two pieces onto the fire. After stoking it, he removed his gloves, turning to stare at me.

I curled my legs under me, trying to ignore him, but I heard everything he was doing as he removed his jacket then stormed into another part of the house, his thudding boots making me jump with every step. He was pissed. How the hell was I supposed to know what was going on? I was a city girl.

A laugh threatened to bubble to the surface, but I bit it back. I had a feeling my reaction wouldn’t go over well. When he returned, he held a lantern in his hand as well as two bottles of water.

“Drink this and I mean every drop. You don’t need any additional liquor right now.” There was no gentleness in his voice, no reminder that we’d shared a carnal moment. He was all business, remaining furious.

I yanked the bottle out of his hand, provoking another growl. After cracking open the bottle, I turned my attention toward the fire, praying to God I would be able to get warm.

He sat down in the chair after a few seconds, shifting his bottle of water back and forth in his hands. “Who the hell did you think was outside?”

“I dunno. Boogeymen.”

Sighing, he wiped his face and leaned forward, remaining silent for a full minute. “Look, you don’t know me, but if I had any intention of hurting you, I assure you I could have done so with ease. I’m not only a black belt in karate, I also have special weapons training, able to shoot a man between the eyes in the dark from a pretty amazing distance.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“That’s supposed to get you to talk. So talk.”

I huddled against the back of the couch, struggling with saying any words. “I’m not a criminal.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “That’s easy to tell by your shooting skills. Then who are you?”

“I’m just a girl trying to live my life.”

I could tell he was holding his breath, likely fighting some urge to yank me over his lap all over again. Every inch of my body tingled at the notion. I rolled my eyes, trying to get the vision out of my mind. It was freaking ridiculous.

“Is your name even Mitch?”

“Yes,” I managed, a lump remaining in my throat. “Short for Michelle.”

“Okay. You’re not from Montana, are you?”

“No. Illinois. Chicago. Well, at least recently.”

“That makes sense,” he said after a few seconds.

“Meaning what?”

“Your attire. Your lack of knowledge of the mountains and ignoring the weather conditions. That’s just for starters. I’m surprised you made it this far without a bear attacking you.”

I could swear there was a gleam in his eyes. He was enjoying this. “Fuck you.”

He slowly turned his head in my direction. “That’s not very ladylike.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m not a lady. I’m…”

“Maybe you need another spanking to jar your memory.”

“That’s insane.”

He broke the seal on his water, taking several gulps. Then I watched as he put it on the table. “Do we need to go over your behavior? You broke into my shed, assaulted me, then only minutes ago attempted to kill me.”

“None of that is true.” My God. He was loving every second of tormenting me. Who the hell did he think he was?

“It isn’t?” he asked as he lifted a single eyebrow, the amusement on his face gnawing at my insides. He held the water bottle in front of him, swirling the liquid in the most annoying way.

I was obviously trying his patience.

“Is your name really Reaper? Well, of course it’s not. You just picked that out of the blue to terrify me. Maybe you’re the actual criminal living all the way up here, ignoring the rest of the world.”

I could tell I’d struck a nerve, his demeanor changing entirely. The warm glow of the fire was enough to see a look of sadness crossing his face. When he exhaled, the sound was ragged and haunting. I shrank back, knowing somewhere in my pea-headed brain that I should apologize.

“Fine. You want to know about me, Mitch? I was in the Marines. The name was given to me by a very special group of friends who served alongside me.” He half chuckled, the faraway look remaining. “We all grew up here. Regular bad boys who thought we could conquer the world. We were such babies back then, idiots in my mind. We had no idea how the world was really run, the horrors that existed at every turn. When we enlisted, I’m not even certain a single one of us had any understanding of what we were going to face. We just thought serving our country would be a great way of seeing other parts of the world, maybe meeting fascinating girls.”

The story was heartfelt, catching me off guard. I certainly hadn’t expected anything like this. “Then you’re a hero.”

His hand began to shake and within seconds, water sloshed out of the top of the bottle