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My hands have formed into fists in the grass as I start to cry angry tears. I can feel myself bracing already for another unbearable holiday. I hate that I can’t get them to care about my hard work. Instead, they’re always pointing out what I’m doing wrong and what I need to change about myself to catch a man.
It’s not until I feel a soft touch at my back, warm even through all the layers I’m wearing, that I realize the weight isn’t getting worse. In fact, at the touch, it might already be getting better. Even my heart rate has started to slow down.
“Hey, are you okay?” murmurs a deep voice. The way it resonates sends a shiver down my spine.
I suck in a breath between sobs, and make myself look up. Steely blue eyes stare back at me, wide with concern. The man who’s crouched beside me is massive and striking in appearance. He looks like he’d more be at home on the set of a historical movie, rather than the parking lot we’re in. Sure, he’s dressed for the weather just like me, but he’s got a beard and a scar tracing down the side of his face that makes him look devilishly handsome and rugged, just like a Viking might.
He looks a little wild, but he looks so warm.
… Warm enough to hold me close at night. Big enough to scare my nosy relatives into leaving me alone. Handsome enough that I won’t have a hard time looking at him when all eyes are watching us.
He’sperfect.
“Miss?” he asks, his brow furrowing as he watches me look him over. His hand slips away from my back self-consciously. “Do you need help?”
This is the second stupidest thing I’ve done today, but at this point I have nothing to lose.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly, my heart now racing for an entirely different reason. “Will you be my boyfriend?”
Chapter 2
Matt
Will you be my boyfriend?
I have to admit, I’ve never been propositioned like this. It’s certainly not what I imagined happening on the first day of my vacation.
Shit like this doesn’t happen to me very often, if I’m being honest. I’m not really the kind of guy women flock to. I might be big and built, but mining isn’t what I’d call a sexy profession. Functional muscle only does so much when you’re covered in dust and grime every time you come home.
Then people see my face. That tends to scare them away for good. The scar I got from an accident was the only injury I got, but it does plenty to deter people from talking to me. Doesn’t help that I’ve got what my buddies call “resting bitch face.” They’ve tried to get me on dates with women they know but I’m just not that charming. It’s probably better that I’m a bit of a loaner. I just prefer to keep to myself and I’ve resigned myself to spending the rest of my life that way.
Still … This teary-eyed little thing in front of me is making me question that. I’m not a romantic, and I’ve never experienced the kind of love they make movies and shit about. But what I’m feeling now is strange and new to me, and I’m wondering if this is what people feel when they look at people they love for the first time. There’s a longing tug in my chest and warmth spreading through my body, breaking through walls I’ve had up around myself to protect me from getting hurt like my mom did after my dad left her.
This little girl is dangerous.
“I’m sorry,” the dark-haired young woman whispers, voice hoarse as she wipes away tears. “That probably sounds crazy. It probablyiscrazy …”
Maybe. For some people it probably is. I stopped to make sure she was okay, but now I’m wondering if I stopped for a different reason. She has no idea the fire she’s started in me.
“I’m not crazy, though. Just desperate. And a little stressed. Okay, a lot stressed, but definitely not crazy. I think.”
“Okay.”
“I mean, I’d think I was crazy too, so I don’t blame you if you do.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy,” I say to her as I rub a hand down her back. “But you look sick, are you alright? Do you need something?”
Her eyes flicker with something I can’t identify. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
I blink at her in confusion. “Didn’t you just ask me to be your boyfriend?”
I’m not sure if her face is pink because of the cold or her embarrassment, but as I look at her process my question, she gets even pinker. “Good point.”
Really didn’t expect something like this to happen to me on my first day of vacation. I mean, it’s not really much of a vacation. I’ve worked the holidays over the past several years, but my supervisor is making my take some time off because I had so much PTO that needed to be used. He says I’m too young to work like I do and that I need to spend some time doing something for myself, like getting a girlfriend or traveling. Does running into a pretty girl having a panic attack in the parking lot on my morning coffee run count as either of those things?
I could’ve kept walking to my car, but I couldn’t just leave her there. She’d been so strange in the line inside the coffee shop … it was clear something was up with her. Then I saw her scramble out of her car. I couldn’tnotstop and make sure she was okay.
Now I can’t stop looking at her. She has silky black hair that falls into her face like a curtain, and pale skin getting kissed pink like the cold. I find myself wondering what else makes her flush like that … IfIcould have the chance to make her turn pink like that …
