“I don’t hunt.”
“Really? I had you pegged as the hunting type.”
“Why?”
“The whole mountain man aesthetic you’ve got going on.” I waved the apple at him again, gesturing to his general... everything. “Flannel, truck, living in the woods. You’re like two steps away from having a pet bear.”
“I don’t have a pet bear.”
“But you’ve considered it.”
This time, I definitely saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward. “No.”
“Liar.”
We looked at each other for a moment, and the air between us felt charged with something I couldn’t quite name. Something electric and dangerous and probably very stupid to pursue. But I couldn’t seem to look away from him, from the way his eyes had gone slightly warmer, from the almost smile that softened the hard lines of his face.
Then his expression shifted back to that guarded look, and he glanced at my tire. “You’ve got a flat.”
I looked down at it, then back at him. “Right. I do. Very observant.”
His jaw tightened. “Can you change it?”
“Would if I had a spare. And before you ask, no, I don’t have a spare. Yes, I know that’s stupid. No, I don’t need a lecture about proper vehicle maintenance.”
He sighed—that same heavy, put-upon sound that suggested I was personally inconveniencing him by having car trouble. Like I’d gotten a flat tire specifically to ruin his day.
“So, what were you going to do?” he asked, his tone somewhere between exasperated and concerned. “Just sit here all night eating fruit?”
“No, I was trying to decide what to do. My mother doesn’t get off until later and my brother doesn’t have a car. Which is really beside the point since I have no cell service. I was either going to walk to town or back to Mr. Kowalski’s. I was puttingoff that decision since neither of those options appealed to me. Luckily someone drove by. You.” I took another bite of apple and smiled at him sweetly.
“No boyfriend?” I felt as if the question had been dragged out of him and it made me want to smile. But I didn’t.
“No. No boyfriend.” Again, I could have been coy and flirty, but really? That just wasn’t me. I was curvy and honest—to traits most men didn’t like but I owned.
He stared at me for a long moment, and I couldn’t quite read his expression. There was annoyance there, definitely, but also something else. Something that looked almost like relief? Would it matter to him if I had a boyfriend? Probably so he could dump me at his doorstep.
Then he muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse. “Hell. Get in the truck.”
I raised my eyebrows, not moving from my perch on the hood. “Is that how you get people to like you, Mr. Grumpy Pants? By barking orders?”
He looked at me, and I saw his jaw work like he was grinding his teeth. “Do you want a ride to town or not?”
I knew when not to poke a bear. I hopped down from the hood, tossing the apple core into the trees—biodegradable, I rationalized. Maybe an apple tree would grow there next spring. I grabbed my medical bag and the apples from the passenger seat. “How could I refuse such an offer.”
Another muttered curse as he stalked back to his truck. I followed, mentally patting myself on the back for not tripping over my own feet like I usually did when attractive men were involved.
Famous last words, Emily.
My foot caught on something—a rock, a root, the universe’s sense of humor—and I stumbled forward with all the grace of a newborn horse. The medical bag went flying. The applesscattered. And I would’ve face-planted directly into the side of his truck if two very large, very strong hands, hadn’t caught me by the waist.
Suddenly I was pressed against Tucker Barrett’s chest, his hand on my wide hips, his face inches from mine. Close enough that I could see the lines around his eyes, the texture of his lips. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off him.
Oh.
Oh no.
My hands had automatically grabbed onto his flannel shirt to steady myself, and I could feel the hard muscle underneath, the faint ridges of the scars I’d seen earlier. I could feel his heart pounding. And every single nerve ending in my body—especially the ones in the southern hemisphere—woke up and started cheering like they’d just won the lottery.
