AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But then I rounded another bend and stopped to appreciate the view.
The woods opened up to a lush, green meadow surrounded by ancient trees, and in the center stood a little white cottage with black shutters. It had all the charm of a quintessential Southern home, with a wrap-around porch, a peaked roof, and a little room up top that I imagined had slanted walls to match.
If that wasn’t enough to gaze upon, parked in front of the house was a vintage truck with the bonnet up and a man half inside.
Man. The word wasn’t enough to describe the shirtless beast hinged over the truck’s engine. He was mounds of hard flesh, muscles bunching and coiling as he twisted something inside. His tan skin was smudged with grease where he’d fought off mosquitoes, keeping them from a feast.
I couldn’t say that I blamed them.
On his narrow waist hung a pair of worn jeans, his shirt tucked in the back pocket. In profile, I assessed the back of him with appreciation, the lines of his powerful backside and thighs telling a tale of strength swathed in denim. A lock of thick, dark hair slipped into his face, and with a gargantuan, greasy hand, he raked the wayward thatch of hair back into place only for it to slip loose again.
A beast if I ever saw one, shining with sweat and streaked with filth. They didn’t make men like this where I came from. In fact, I couldn’t recall ever seeing someone so utterly masculine in my life. The men I knew wouldn’t—and thus couldn’t—fix a broken lightbulb, never mind a motor. What else can his hands do? I wondered absently, so distracted by the thought, I failed to notice him notice me.
“You lost?” he asked, straightening up and turning to face me as he wiped off his hands.
The view from the front was even better than the profile. The discs of his pecs shifted as he wiped his hands on a red rag, the rolling curves of his shoulders and arms bunching and hardening with the motion. My gaze caught on that deep, inviting valley that angled down from his hips and disappeared into his jeans, and a fat bead of sweat snaked its way down my chest at the sight. But his face was the best part of all, touched with mischief and promises. His jaw was sharp and square, the line hardened by the shadow of a short, unkempt beard. And in the middle was a crooked smile that I was positive could inspire an immaculate conception on sight.
I snapped to, putting on a smile and blaming my momentary madness on jet lag and the heat.
“I might be,” I said, dragging my suitcase noisily beside me. “Lost, that is.”
“With shoes like that, you’ve gotta be.” He strode to meet me, his long legs eating up the space between us. “Here, lemme get that for you.”
“Thank you. But I think there might have been some mistake—I’m in Cass Winfield’s wedding. Do you know her?”
“I oughtta. She’s my cousin.” That smile of his again, his eyes bottle green. “Remy Winfield. I’d shake your hand, but...” He held up a huge hand and wiggled his dirty fingers.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Jessa.”
“So polite. Don’t y’all say, How do you do?”
“Sometimes. Perhaps I should have opted for Howdy instead?”
A chuckle as we approached the house. The closer we got, the more I noticed disrepair. Peeling paint and cracked wood, a sagging roof over the patio, and poorly installed windows. The sudden and inexplicable urge to take care of it flared in my chest.
“Hang on,” he said, setting my bag on the porch with a thunk. “You’re that princess, aren’t you?”
My brow quirked. “Princess?”
Remy snapped his fingers. “That’s right. You’re Cass’s bestie, the English princess.”
“I’m no princess, I’m afraid.”
He leaned against the porch rail, folding his arms across his chest. “Hang on—what’s the next one down? A duchess?”
“I’m not a?—”
“I like duchess. Makes me think of those fancy white cats in the cat food commercials, eatin’ dinner from a crystal bowl. Suits you.”
I tried not to huff. I truly did. “I’m not royalty, and my father is a marquess, not a duke.”
“So what does that make you?”
My cheeks flushed in revolt. I paused, not wanting to say—a joke at my expense seemed inevitable—but I had no choice in the matter. “A lady.”
He laughed, flashing movie star teeth. “Lady Jessa. Doesn’t quite sound right. Too...” He waved his hand in a circle. “Common?”
“It’s actually Lady Jessamine, but only my parents call me by my full name.”
