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She pulled at her hair tie that secured the locks, the long fall of that raven-colored hair tumbling along her shoulders. She looked at him then, and he felt his chest tighten as he recognized her from the diner.
She blinked at him a few times then started mumbling something incoherently under her breath. Scars pulled out his cell phone, and of course there was no signal, given the shitty fucking weather. Again, not something uncommon living in the mountains, and normally he liked the lack of reception. But right now, it fucking grated on his nerves.
And worried him.
And he didn’t know how to feel over the latter.
“Shit,” he cursed. She started saying something under her breath, and he leaned in close. “What, darlin’?”
She lifted her hand to rub her eyes and then she started moving toward the gash he now noticed in her head, but he gently took her hand away.
“Don’t touch anything, sweetheart. Your head got pretty banged up. I need to take you to the hospital and get you checked out.” He saw the instant change in her after he spoke, like someone had poured cold water on her.
She started shaking her head, her eyes widening as she stared at him with so much fear Scars felt it to his core.
“No hospital,” she murmured and promptly closed her eyes, a groggy moan spilling from her. “My head is pounding.” She cleared her throat and said again, “No hospital. I’m fine.”
He lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, watching as her vision cleared slightly the longer she stared at him. “Darlin’, it’s clear what you want, but your head’s all banged up. I’m no doctor, and even though I could patch you up well enough, I don’t know if you have a concussion.”
She didn’t say anything for long moments, just stared into his eyes, this vulnerability permeating from her. He didn’t know her, had no idea her circumstances, but it was clear she didn’t want to be known. That’s the only reason she wouldn’t want to go to the hospital. No paper trail.
He could understand that pretty fucking well. Many times in his life, he hadn’t wanted to be found. Kind of like right now.
“Shit," he cursed under his breath and said fuck it before unbuckling her seatbelt and gently helping her out of the car. “Wrap your arms around me, sweetheart.” She did what he asked, murmuring again, but her words too low for him to understand them.
He cradled her in his arms, her frame tiny. Scars gently, carefully carried her to his truck, the rain still beating down on them. He felt her rest her head on his shoulder, and that did something strange to him. It made him feel a way he wasn’t accustomed to. He couldn’t place the emotion, but he did tighten his hold on her, keeping her close.
She was putting all her trust in him, a stranger, a man she didn’t know from Adam. She held onto him, let him take care of her, protect her.
And out of all these sensations and emotions running through him, the one that stuck out the most was that he… liked these feelings.6It was the smell of bacon cooking that roused Hannah. She slowly blinked open her eyes, staring at exposed wooden beams above her. Her head pounded, the discomfort spreading to her temples and down behind her eyes. The memory of the crash came back, and she closed her eyes again, breathing out slowly.
She took note of her surroundings for just a moment. She was on a couch, a thick blanket covering her. She opened her eyes again and looked to her left, seeing a fire in the hearth, the heat spreading toward her like warm fingers.
She heard the sound of pots clanging together, but everything else was a blurry mess, a reel running backward in her brain and that she tried to decipher.
Lifting her hand, she touched her forehead, her skull tender, a bandage on her temple. Her entire body ached, and she tried to push herself up before promptly falling back down and groaning deeply as the discomfort was far too intense.
“Hey, careful now, darlin’.”
The deep voice came from the other side of the couch. It was scratchy and rough, but she found herself instantly calming, resting against the soft cushions, obeying him, because it just seemed like the right thing to do at the moment.
She shifted on the couch a little bit, the pillow underneath her head thick and soft. She smelled this dark, woodsy scent. Male.
And then the man who stepped into her line of vision had her heart stuttering a moment. Everything around her was soft—the couch, the blanket… everything. But the man looking down at her was hard, like stone, his body tall, his muscles all but busting out of the gray T-shirt he wore. And the distressed jeans that covered his strong, sturdy legs couldn’t hide the fact that his thighs were like tree trunks.
