Chapter Forty-Eight: Clean and Comfy
The man had been naked. This was not new information. But my brain could not, would not, stop fixating on it. There was a naked man in front of me, and I don't know why I was so rattled by it. I've seen plenty of naked men, for Christ's sake, I'm a w***e. So tell me why my eyes latched to the thick, dark hair that ran up and down his legs. Why did I notice his hips swaying when he walked? Why, why, why? When I closed my eyes, just to blink, I'd see the charred remains of my bakery. That is what I got for straying, even a minute, away from the only thing that mattered. My chest would plummet, and then I'd be brought back by the sounds of the waves and the dig of the rocks against my feet. My wolf turned and turned; I couldn't read him at all. Again, he was tucked away, like a photo in a
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