AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Josie hunts inside her handbag for the instructions regarding the key box. While she searches, the sound of an approaching engine grabs my attention. I turn around to watch a gunmetal grey Land Rover round the bend, parking next to the Range Rover. It has roof rails, a wheel on the back door, and an exhaust pipe extending up by the windscreen. It’s a very practical vehicle for country lanes.
Two guys are inside, and they’re both looking our way.
“Jose, look,” I say shakily.
“I’m looking,” she replies, a hint of devilment in her voice.
I chance a hesitant smile in her direction before my eyes drift back to the two men. The passenger folds himself out of the car. He looks tall, and by default strong and robust. He has an athletic shape, and rich brown hair that’s long on top, but styled. His expression is inviting, a tentative smile emerging on a face that can only be described as heartbreak handsome.
Shamelessly, he looks at me, his head tilting a little, that small smile never waning.
He reminds me . . . he reminds me of the man with the golden retriever, and my pulse quickens.
Closing the door behind him, he puts his hands on his hips, and says, his voice low and smooth, “Hello, running girl.”
CHAPTERTHREE
AVA
“Hi,”I manage between fast breaths. “I-I thought you looked familiar.”
His friend comes around the car and I throw a quick glance his way, but he seems to be busy checking Josie out.
“Are you staying in Lake Cabin?”Running boy?asks, checking the name plaques affixed to the adjoining buildings.
“Yeah, we just arrived.”
Bemused, he looks to his friend before returning his attention to me. “Looks like we’re next door,” he says, pointing to Pinewood Cabin.
“Do you know these guys?” Josie asks me quietly, the quest for the email instructions forgotten. Or lost.
“Sort of.” I take stock of my loose acquaintance who’s in dark wash jeans and a cashmere grey jumper. No alarm bells are ringing. There’s nothing predatory or intimidating about him or his friend, and I like that he’s keeping his distance, staying on his side of the imaginary line separating our respective driveways. “Did you bring your dog?” My eyes search what I can see of the vehicle, and sure enough, a panting, wet-nosed dog is watching us through a back window. Relief washes through my blood.
“Want to meet him?”
Feeling confident, I nod, heading towards him and the Land Rover. Anyone who has a Labrador, retriever or spaniel is twenty-four-carat gold in my book. It’s a stupid hypothesis but one that’s never steered me wrong before. “I’ve wanted to give him a fuss every time I ran past. I love golden retrievers.”
Running boy opens the door at the rear, an eager dog leaping out before shaking his beautiful coat. He’s a ball of energy, enthusiastic for his new surroundings and his escape from the car.
“Hey, Logan, come and say hello.”
The man squats down next to his dog, holding him steady by the collar. I edge closer, quickly looking over my shoulder at Josie to see she’s chatting with the friend. I crouch, Logan straining towards my outstretched hand before he jerks forward and eagerly sniffs my face and neck.
A squeal of laughter breaks free. “Hey, Logan,” I say, smiling happily. “Who’s a beautiful boy?” I run my hands down his shiny coat, his body wriggling so hard due to his furiously wagging tail that I can’t hold back my giddy laughter. “Such a happy boy,” I say, stroking his head and neck, soaking up all the love he’s giving me. “I’m Ava,” I say to the dog, but my eyes lift to the man’s, including him in my low-key introduction.
“Max,” he replies. “Good to meet you.”
“You too,” I reply, resolutely keeping my eyes glued to the dog. This is an insane coincidence, and I’m glad for Logan’s distracting presence. After another quick fuss of Logan, I stand, letting him sniff around the perimeter of the driveway before he cocks his leg.
“It was a long journey,” Max explains dryly who’s also been watching his dog explore.
“Josie’s lost our entry code. I might need to follow Logan’s lead,” I murmur.
An amused chuckle greets me, the sound inviting. Drawn to him, my eyes drift over his features. His eyes are a stunning hue, flecks of amber and black interspersed within the iris. And his hair is a chestnut brown, gold interwoven through the silky-looking strands. With a cautious expression, Max lets me study him. Then he extends a hand, ready to shake mine.
For a long second, I look at it, and then realise I appear, if not mistrustful, then plain rude. Carefully, I reach for Max’s hand. It feels strange to hold another man’s hand, to be so aware of his touch which is definitely doing something to my heart rate. And the skin where our palms meet is hyperaware of his warmth, his grip just the right balance of gentle and solidly firm. Overall, his touch feels much better than I expected, and while I didn’t shake hands as some kind of experiment, it is an interesting micro-study all the same.
I analyse every detail of his face. Every reaction he appears to have to me. But I like what I see—an appealing blend of male interest, and an open, almost expectant expression.
