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My heart raced, thudding against my ribs as the sleep mask was yanked from my eyes. There he stood, Connor Wilson in all his towering glory—a Park Ranger by day, a pain in my ass round the clock. His muscular frame filled the doorway, one hand covering an eye I'd apparently acquainted with my fist.
“Fuck, Connor, what are you doing sneaking up on a woman in her sleep?” I snapped, adrenaline coursing through me, igniting anger along with an unwelcome surge of heat at the sight of him.
“Checking on you,” he growled, annoyance lacing his tone as he assessed the damage to his face. “I wanted to make sure you hadn't been eaten by bears.”
“Great, now I have to worry about bears?" I rolled my eyes so hard I feared they'd get stuck that way. “And for your information, I can take care of myself. I don't need some…some muscle-bound lumberjack swooping in to rescue me.”
“Clearly,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips despite the throbbing in his eye. “You pack quite the punch, Scooter.”
“Keep it up with the nicknames, and you'll get another sample,” I warned, yet part of me relished the banter, the spark between us that was as infuriating as it was intoxicating.
“Promises, promises,” Connor quipped, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. And damn if those eyes didn't send a shiver down my spine—one that had nothing to do with the cold.
5
Connor
The sting in my eye was a sharp reminder of Becca's fiery spirit. She stood there, chest heaving, a wild look in her eyes that could've either meant she was about to swing again or burst into laughter. I had to chuckle, despite the pain; her makeshift boxing gloves, a tangle of mismatched socks, were almost comical.
“Damn, Becca,” I said, rubbing at the tender spot beneath my eye, “remind me not to get on your bad side again.”
“Like I said, consider it a warning shot, Connor.” Despite the tough act, there was a glint of amusement in her gaze. Her stubbornness was a turn-on, though I'd never admit it aloud. She was a force, alright, and the idea of her out here, alone in the woods, was suddenly less concerning.
“How’d you get in here anyway?” She glared at me. Damn was I grateful I hadn’t knocked the door down.
“One of the bedroom windows was open.” My heart raced again. When I’d knocked and she hadn’t answered, I’d inspected the cabin and found one of the windows open. The fear that had run through me was something I never wanted to experience. “You should really be more mindful of safety out here.
“Noted,” she said, untangling from her Becca burrito.
Glancing around the cabin, I frowned at the woodburning stove sitting silent and cold in the corner. “Why's the stove not crackling? It's freezing in here.”
Becca sighed, her shoulders slumping a fraction. “I tried lighting it. No luck.”
“Dammit, Becca. I knew I should’ve come in and lit it for you last night.” Kneeling by the stove, I grabbed the matches and spotted an old newspaper on the floor. “It didn’t work even with the newspaper?” I trailed off as I noticed her cheeks flush a deeper shade of red.
“That’s what the newspaper is for? I thought it was toilet paper. I've never done this whole…rustic cabin thing before,” she muttered, looking anywhere but at me.
“Toilet paper? I guess if you’re in a pinch,” I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head. “You're adorable when you're clueless, you know that?”
"Shut up, Connor," she grumbled, but the corners of her mouth twitched, betraying her annoyance.
“Adorable and feisty,” I teased, striking a match and watching the flame catch on the crumpled paper on top of the logs of wood. The fire took hold, and soon enough, warmth began to fill the space between us. “There. That's how you do it. And when you’re down to embers, make sure you put another log on top, or you’ll have to start the process all over again.”
“Great. Now I know how to not freeze to death,” she said dryly, though there was relief in her eyes.
“Survival 101 with Connor Wilson—weekdays at 8 A.M.,” I quipped, standing up. “Next lesson: never punch a guy with more muscles than your entire body weight.”
“Yeah ok, Tarzan,” Becca shot back, rolling her eyes. But even as she did, the tension between us shifted, charged with something that felt a hell of a lot like desire. “Now get out so I can change.”
I walked out of her room and closed the door behind me.
"Hey, Becca," I called out, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed over my chest. “Wanna see something that'll make your heart melt?”
“Depends. What is it?” She asked opening the door wearing a fresh set of jeans that hugged her curves and an olive green shirt that brought out her gorgeous hazel eyes.
“The fawn you brought in. Thought you'd want to see her all safe and sound.”
A gentle smile softened her features, and for a moment, I forgot we were anything but two people sharing a care for something innocent. "I'd love that. But first, I need a shower." She gestured toward the bathroom. “And that damn thing won't turn on.”
