Rowan
My alarm goes off way earlier than I’m prepared for it to. For the duration of whatever this state of emergency is, we’ll be working twelve-hours on and twelve-hours off, even with the help we’re receiving from the LSERT.
As I turn over, my body protests. It isn’t used to the level of physicality I pushed it to participate in last night.
Be honest, Ro, I chide myself. It’s been a few years since you would have been sore for any other reason anyway. A person hasn’t touched me other than to give me a hug since it happened and when I gave into my now-ex-husband one more time.
But that’s neither here nor there right now.
Reaching out, I gasp; even my arm is sore. Probably from where Cutter lifted me up onto the tree. He’s strong, and so damn sure of himself. I envy it and wish I was as sure of myself as he had been.
Cutter. That name again. That man. I close my eyes, seeing his face clearly.