The Effects of Falling (The Weight of Rain Duet Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

Though it shouldn’t, Kash’s minor distraction sends a satisfying jolt through me. It increases when Kash releases the handshake and securely clasps my hand before pulling me free from Tommy’s touch and toward the house with the excuse to see the inside.
    We step through the double doors that are both taller and wider than standard.
    Releasing my hand, his touch is only absent a second before he snakes his arm around my shoulders. “We need to get dibs on the biggest room before everyone else gets the chance to look around.”
    We? The word dances off the log beams lining the high ceilings.
    The house, while cavernous is warm and inviting, furnished with overstuffed leather furniture and more throw pillows than most stores. The walls are covered with large prints that I suspect were taken nearby to show off the beautiful views and terrain.
    “Come on!” Kash’s fingers weave with mine, and then he tugs me forward in the direction of the staircase that we race up, losing track of the others and whether it’s them we’re trying to beat or each other.
    I see my cheeks pulled up into an impossibly wide grin as we turn a corner and stumble to a stop in front of a large room hosting a bureau with a large oval mirror atop it. My glance travels downward, catching sight of the width of Kash’s fingers woven with mine. Then to how close he holds my hand to his side, up to the broadness of his shoulders that have always been one of my favorite features of his, and then to his face which is covered with a short beard he recently decided to try out that I’m still debating my feelings for. I’ve never been in favor of facial hair, but Kash could grow out a ridiculous handlebar mustache and likely pull it off. He not only has the confidence and charisma to carry out a fashion trend so ridiculous, but his near perfectly symmetrical face which displays his slightly rounder lower lip, the deep indention below his straight nose, and endearingly brown eyes that are swathed with such a thick coat of eyelashes, you’d swear he was wearing eyeliner—easily make him the most attractive man in all of existence.
    “This can’t be the master. Come on!” Before I can look at the room, Kash is pulling me back through the door and down the hall.
    Three rooms later, he tugs his arm free, and with one then two quick sprints, he leaps into the air, turning to his back mid-jump, and lands in the middle of a large king-sized bed with a gratifying sigh. “I’m never leaving,” he says, closing his eyes.
    I snicker, knowing how quickly his tune will change after tonight.
    Kash is a homebody. As much as he loves the business and being around the entourage that follows him most days, he is balanced between introvert and extrovert, relying on his alone time and confines of his house to recharge his energies and focus.
    “Are you smirking?” Kash sits up, leaning up on his elbows as he watches me.
    “We should find out what’s going on. The lighting is about to be perfect. I bet they’ll want to shoot pretty quickly,” I say.
    Groaning, he sits up fully and releases a deep sigh. “All I’ve done is sit today, and all I want to do is sit some more.”
    I don’t suggest that we ask if we can wait until tomorrow to begin after a full morning of travel because even if Kash wasn’t a homebody, his desire to be home and see Mercedes would be an overpowering need that would prevent him from blowing off today’s schedule and delaying things.
    “You didn’t find it,” King taunts as we trudge back down the stairs, our hands hanging separately at our sides.
    “We did too,” Kash argues.
    King grins with satisfaction as Kash’s pace quickens. “Come on, you know how these places work. The master is always on the bottom floor unless the house is set on a hill.”
    “Dammit!” Kash growls, hitting the granite counter with a tight fist.
    It’s for show rather than legitimate frustration. It’s Kash’s way of deflecting his true