Lindsey
I pulled a chair from under the kitchen table and turned it around. I straddled it, resting my arms on the back with my chin on my arms. I watched him breathe and mumble. He stunk like a hobo, and he’d have a banging hangover if he ever decided to wake up. All I thought was he was lucky there was no camp today.
Ben snorted when he half-snored and then lifted his hand up to rub his nose. He’d all but passed out after he’d said those words, which might come back to haunt him when he finally had his wits about him again. For now, he was going to suffer from what smelled like a belly full of whiskey. It was hard to believe that he was an expert in survival and unarmed combat training as I looked at him. Right now, he looked like a kid huddled under a checkered travel blanket with his
