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“Morning,” Officer McGoven rasped. He stood frozen near the center island, holding a jar of mayonnaise in one hand and a slice of bread in the other. Slowly, he smeared the condiment onto the bread and slapped it on top of another already piled high with tuna.
“Are you okay?” His eyes scanned her face intently. He was hunting for something. Something that he didn’t seem to find—and that relieved him. “Don’t worry about… What happened earlier,” he grumbled by way of apology. “Sometimes, the hunters around here choose to be generous with their bounty. I’m sorry you saw that.”
He still wore that pair of sweatpants, which were damp and covered in mud. That dark hair was tangled in a way that made Loren wonder if he’d spent the night rolling around in the fields. Orrunningthrough them.
Suddenly, he closed the fridge with his hip and brought the sandwich to his mouth for a bite.
“Get washed up,” he told her, before heading for the stairs. “I’ll find you something to wear.”
He took the steps two at a time, uncaringly tracking footprints across the floor. Had he really spent the night out in the wind and rain?
It sure smelled like it. His usual scent of pine was diluted by the earthy, musky scent of the woods. Rather than offensive, on him, the aroma seemed...wild. Untamed.
Feral.
Her heart pounded beneath his borrowed shirt, and suddenly the room felt way too small. Rather than mention that she had already showered, she stumbled into the bathroom and climbed into the shower for a second time without giving herself the chance to think about why.
The hot water pounded down—but, this time, every droplet felt…raw. Her skin was oversensitive, aware of every fluctuating temperature. His nearness. His smell. When she finally stepped into a towel, she shuddered at the feel of the terrycloth. Every fiber seemed to irritate her skin as if to tease her about a lack of something else. Something she craved, but couldn’t name. Only images came to mind. Deep, golden skin. Calloused fingertips. Heat.
No!Terrified, she shook her head to clear it and saw that someone had placed a pile of folded clothes on the toilet seat for her, so quietly that she hadn’t even heard them come in.
The thick flannel shirt and black sweatpants were about ten sizes too big, and she had to roll up the hems of both just to see her hands and feet. But they were warm and offered far more coverage than what she had on.
When she finally returned to the main room, McGoven wasn’t there. From the sounds of rushing water coming from above, she guessed he too decided to shower. She had lived with her father for months, but the thought of a grown man showering—naked—in the same housestillfelt strange.
Especially when she could clearly picture his body—every taut, coiled bit of muscle.No.She bit her lip hard enough to sting and raced for the door. It wasn’t the urge to escape driving her barefoot onto the porch.
No, it was something else.
Something that coiled in the base of her stomach like a snake waiting to strike. It taunted her, betraying justhowmuch she remembered from earlier—dark skin and chiseled abs.
Not to mention the blood dripping from his mouth.
The thought made her shiver as she descended the porch steps. McGoven had worked fast. All traces of the deer were gone, and the landscape seemed as idyllic as usual as she crossed the field and headed straight for the barn.
Bunny greeted her as she slipped inside. Esther whinnied hello, and even Xavier seemed less shy. It could have been just another day, sneaking there to avoid her father—but it wasn’t long before reality intruded.
The horses sensed him first. Esther shifted uneasily in her stall, while Xavier’s dark head appeared over the mouth of his, nostrils flaring. Loren turned, unsurprised to find Officer McGoven in the doorway.
He held something—a dark shape that had her flinching back out of habit. There were two things, actually. Her pair of tan boots and his windbreaker tucked under his arm.
“It’s freezing out.” His tone was cautious, as if he expected her to bolt at any second.
Instead, she crept forward to take the clothes before darting back inside the safety of the barn. Thankfully, he kept his distance.
She wasn’tafraidof him, she told herself. But, dressed in a thick polo, and a pair of jeans, he didn’t look any less intimidating than he had in a pelt of fur.Evenmore so.
A shower had done him good. His hair was slicked back, his face cleaned of mud. The cleanliness made his gaze all the more piercing. He watched her as she pulled on her boots while leaning against Bunny’s stall for balance. They were slightly damp and smelled like…
She sniffed and frowned.Bleach?They weren’t the only odd-smelling item. This jacket seemed slightly older than the one he’d given her previously. Rather than pine, it reeked of laundry detergent. She zipped it up and waited for Officer McGoven to say something.
Order her back to the house?
All hedid, was lean carefully against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Then, after a moment, he inclined his head toward the nearest stall, where she’d unconsciously gone back to stroking Bunny.
“You named them.” It wasn’t a question.
“I…I needed something to call them,” Loren stammered, feeling her cheeks flame. “I couldn’t find any names on their stalls.”
