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She spun around as he reached for her door. Mere inches apart, she sucked in a breath and reared back against the truck. Fire flared in her eyes, threatening to reignite his banked desire. A hard swallow kept him from closing the distance between them as he pulled open the door.

“Thanks, but I’m a big girl.” She climbed into the cab, then leaned to brace her hand on the inside door handle while looking him straight in the eye. “Perfectly capable of making my own decisions and taking care of myself.”

The door was yanked from his hand as she slammed it and drove away.

He watched her taillights in the deepening dusk, hands stuffed in his pockets. His fingers curled around the media card in his right one. Guess tomorrow he’d get a chance to see if a night to think about everything softened her resentment. He also wanted to make sure she was okay. The length and depth of the scratches suggested the attack was personal, not random. It left him with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that had him dialing Billy at the Watering Hole the moment he got back inside.

Unfortunately, the bar’s security cameras only covered the building entrances and windows. No other acts of vandalism had been reported, which only increased his concern.

Had she gone to the police, or stubbornly ignored the advice because she was angry with him? He hoped to God she was smarter than that.

She is, he assured himself.

Later, as he stripped down before sliding between the sheets, Joel found himself thinking of clutter. Tonight, the word had provided a convenient excuse exactly when he’d needed it, but that didn’t make it any less true. He didn’t have time for anything meaningful, what with his endless days on the road.

However, staring at the ceiling in the dark, thinking of Brittany’s observation that he had no personal items of meaning to surround him, he grudgingly admitted having his own place might be nice.

Somewhere to come home to.

Someone to come home to.

The second thought ambushed him, along with a flash vision of blond hair, green eyes and a beautiful smile.

He jack-knifed into a sitting position on the bed and fisted his hands in his hair. That was exactly the kind of thinking he needed to avoid. A place to set down roots was something to consider, but he would never allow himself to need any one person again. He

’d seen firsthand how it could destroy a man even as strong as his father, and back in Alaska, it had almost happened to him.

No way in hell would he allow it to become a possibility again.

Chapter 20

The sight of Mitch coming out of the stall next to Paelo’s on Monday morning made Britt’s step falter. His usual welcoming smile was nowhere to be seen as he avoided her gaze and bent to grasp the handles of the wheel barrow.

She squared her shoulders and marched over to block his way. “Why were you in prison?”

Guarded blue eyes met hers as he straightened. “Sounds like Morgan already told you.”

“Only that you have a record. He said the details were on you.”

“Mighty noble of him.”

Yes, Joel Morgan was full of noble gestures. Her jaw tightened, but she ignored the thought and waited for Mitch to give her an answer.

He looked away, then swung his head back to face her. “I got mixed up in a gang with my cousin when I was a sixteen. At seventeen, I was arrested and charged as an adult for dealing drugs and armed robbery.”

Okay, wow. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but certainly not that. She did her best to keep her expression impassive.

“I did my stint in jail, then got transferred to a rehab program on a ranch in California. I’m in my last year of probation.”

“Is that where you learned to work with horses?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why you don’t drink.”

“Yes.”

“Mark know all this?”

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