Bridger reached across the table and tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. The gesture was shockingly tender, but absolutely possessive. His heavy, calloused thumb lingered to skim the sensitive skin of my jawline. His eyes were on the construction guy as he practically marked his territory.
The sheer, unadulterated alphaness of it sent a violent shiver through my body.
The construction guy’s smile faltered. He nodded once, all friendly-like, and turned away.
I should have been annoyed. Possessive caveman behavior was supposed to be a red flag.
So why was my stomach doing those crazy flips again?
“Rule thirty-six,” I said into my water glass.
“What’s that?”
I shook my head. “My Momma has a lot of sayings. She wrote them down for me and gave them to me on my sixteenth birthday. I’d been expecting a chocolate cake but she gave me her Survival Guide for the Modern Woman. Forty-nine rules to live by.”
His eyebrow went up. “Forty-nine.”
“Well, numbered to forty-nine,” I said. “She left a few blanks for me to fill in with lessons of my own, but Momma was very thorough.”
He leaned back in the booth, his arm stretched across the back. “Color me intrigued. Give me an example.”
“Rule #1: Never get into a truck with a stranger.”
His mouth twitched. “How’s that one working out for you?”
“I’ll let you know.”
“What else?”
“Rule #22: Never drool over a man holding a chainsaw.”
His eyes narrowed. “Was that one of yours?”
I nodded slowly.
“Tell me more of them,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because I want to know what rules you’re breaking when you’re with me.”
I had the sudden urge to fan myself. “That’s a lot of rules to remember.”
“I’ve got a good memory.”
I bit my lip, and his eyes tracked the movement. “Maybe I’ll just tell you when I’m breaking one.”
“Maybe you do that.”
Marie appeared with our food, and we both stopped talking. The food was as good as he said it would be. Once we were done, he asked, “You ready to head home?”
That one little word shouldn’t have set me off. But it did. Home. Going home with Bridger. “Sure.”
The drive up the mountain was peaceful. I watched the trees blur past, watched the valley drop away below us.
When we pulled up to the house, neither of us moved to get out right away.
“Thanks for today,” I said.
