Chapter Five
‘What are you doing here?’ The question blurted itself out, made it sound like she was the one who had every right to be standing there in a man-made pine forest in the middle of nowhere while he, dressed in full lumberjack regalia and brandishing a chainsaw, had no business being there at all.
Cole’s smile was crooked, not quite a smirk, more of a are-youreally-asking- me -that question? ‘I work here.’
He worked here? At Uncle Willy’s? Wasn’t he supposed to be a farrier?
Not that it mattered. It wasn’t as if there were fireworks popping under her skin, heating her from the inside out.
Because there most definitely were not. And either way, she would never date a farrier or a farmer-slash-tree lopper. Not that dating was on the cards.
His eyes shifted from her face to her feet and back again before pointing to the first instruction on the sign.
Shit. Was he going to bundle her into her car and send her packing before the tree even got chopped? She’d always been a rule follower, apart from—or rather, ever since—that night, and getting caught out for breaking them was not in her playbook.
‘Sorry, I didn’t realise. No boots in the car so …’ She scrunched up her face and gave an apologetic shrug.
‘That’s a shame, because apart from the snakes that enjoy living here, there’s a whole lot of leeches that like to party after it rains.
’ He pointed and her gaze fell to her feet, zeroed in on her left one, where a black, worm-like creature a good four centimetres long had attached itself just below her ankle.
As experienced at bush walking as she’d become, leeches were one wild creature she just could not abide.
‘Urgh, no, yuck.’ She danced a jig, stomping her foot in a bid to unlatch the behemoth leech currently feasting on her blood.
By the third stomp, Cole was down on one knee, a small object clasped in his hand. He took hold of her calf. ‘Stay still a minute.’
The firm grip on her bare leg, in any other circumstance, may have been enough to make her swoon but not right now, when her stomach had tied itself into a constrictor knot.
Focusing on her breathing, she followed orders while he slipped the point of his pen knife under the revolting creature and flicked it off with one sharp snap of his wrist. It squirmed for a millisecond until he sliced it in two and a not-insignificant pool of dark liquid spread across the ground.
Her blood! Which was also pouring out of the bite site and staining the patent leather of her white sandals.
‘He’s been on there for a while.’ Cole rose to his feet. ‘Take a seat and I’ll grab something for that. Back in a tick.’
Damn it. Why hadn’t she had the good sense to check the website properly before racing off into the wilderness?
Normally she’d be fully prepared, but with everything going on, her common sense seemed to be AWOL.
She stumbled across to the log wall forming the boundary of the car park and lowered herself down, keeping her chin up.
She’d never been good with the sight of blood but at least she’d mastered the art of self-talk.
It’s only a leech bite. You’re not going to bleed out. It’s all okay.
And then Cole Harrison reappeared. He was a bear of a man, shoulders as broad as an axe handle, and yet there was an aura of gentleness about him she couldn’t quite pin down.
Carrying a bundle of tissues, a bottle of Dettol and a packet of bandaids, he once again knelt in front of her.
He really could be a hero in a small-town romance, down on one knee, about to propose to the unsuspecting heroine.
Ridiculous. Pull yourself together, Hannah.
Like a regular Prince Charming, Cole unbuckled her shoe and slipped it off, holding her ankle firmly but delicately as he wiped away the blood crusted across the top of her foot. Whether it was shock or embarrassment—or something else entirely—she was both immobile and dumbstruck.
Do not think about the strength of his hands. Do not think about the soft brown waves of his hair. Do not. Do not. Do not!
A distinct throb started up between her legs. So much for her self-talking skills.
‘Okay. That should do it.’ He pressed a bandaid across the wound, slapped a hand to his thigh as he stood. ‘I think you’ll live.’
She looked up and there it was again, that clunk as their eyes met. In this light, his were the darkest amber, like bloodwood honey swirling into deep pools, sweet and mysterious. His smile faltered. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, bringing her to her senses and her feet.
‘Okay, thank you. I appreciate your help.’ Brisk and businesslike. ‘Now. The tree.’
‘Yeah, let me get it for you. What’s the number?’
The number. On her phone. She pulled it out and showed him the photo she’d taken.
‘Great. I’ll be right back.’
She waved a hand in the direction she’d come from. ‘Should I come with you?’
‘All good. I know where it is.’ Collecting his chainsaw, he sauntered off along the trail, the late afternoon sun casting a yellow glow around the perimeter of his very well-built body.
Hannah slumped back onto the log. What was wrong with her?
Even before she finished asking herself the question, the answer was clear.
It had been way too long since she’d had sex, so as soon as a handsome, virile-looking man was in touching distance, her hormones were going ape-shit.
That’s all it was. A totally physical response.
Natural. Normal. But she hadn’t had that kind of feeling about Hugh, even when they’d shared a couple of post-dinner-date kisses.
Come to think of it, those kisses had been very chaste and there had been zero zing.
She’d rationalised it by reminding herself they were taking it slow, that Hugh was a widowed father of two and that she was still settling into the town.
In so many ways, he was her perfect match, a fellow professional, polite and respectful, and like her, he was a blowin rather than a born-and-bred local.
But when the obvious chemistry between Hugh and Eve had hit her over the head like the proverbial baseball bat, she hadn’t exactly been devastated.
In fact, it had almost been a relief. He’d been the first man she’d even thought about dating in a while, with work taking up so much of her time, but in the end, fictional romances were much more satisfying.
Footsteps on gravel drew her attention back to the car park. To Cole Harrison standing in front of her, tree over his shoulder as if it were a snapped-off branch rather than the whole shebang.
‘I’ll get this netted up for you and onto your roof racks.’
The man was the epitome of efficiency and politeness. She squinted at his profile as he fed the tree into the funnel. The leech incident had taken her mind on a detour.
‘So.’ She collected the roof ties from her boot and followed him to the other end of the machine where he was extracting the netted tree. ‘The other day you were driving a ute with a farrier logo right beneath your name.’
‘That’s right.’
‘But you clearly work here.’
‘Temporarily.’ He stood the netted tree beside him, arm around it as if giving it a hug.
It was a good half-metre taller than him and he had to be around 185 centimetres.
Was that thing going to fit on her racks?
‘My stepfather owns the farm but he’s recovering from surgery so I’m helping out during the rush.
Owen’s supposed to be here too but he’s shirking. ’
‘Your stepfather is Uncle Willy?’
‘Sure is. Bill to his friends and family but he thought Uncle Willy had a better ring to it.’
‘Right, well that’s very … noble of you.’ Noble? Where had that come from? He wasn’t a knight of the Round Table. Although based on his chivalry, he very well could have been one in a past life. If that was a thing.
Cole shrugged. ‘It’s family. Speaking of which, I have a dinner to get to at my mother’s place. I’d better get moving. I’ll pop this on the roof for you.’
Giving him a wide berth while he hoisted the tree onto the roof and secured it with the straps she’d fortunately remembered to bring (unlike her boots), Hannah took in the flex of his shoulders and the strong, sure movements of his hands. Her gaze drifted lower to the firm curve of his—
He turned and she snapped to attention. Squeezed her folded arms against her midline.
He cupped his chin with his palm and rubbed his fingers along his chiselled jawline. ‘I know this is kind of a strange place to ask this question, and I’m not even sure if you have a partner, but …’ He let out a rough laugh. ‘If you don’t have a partner, would you consider going on a date with me?’
A date? An image of him smiling at her from across a candlelit table, glass of red wine in hand, shimmered in her mind’s eye. Their knees bumped and his hand—
Shut that thought down right there, Hannah Rasmussen!
‘I can’t date a patient’s brother.’ She blurted it out as if she was Bridget Jones jumping in with the answer at a law society trivia night.
‘Okay.’ He shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘I thought that might be the case. But worth asking, right?’ He reached up and wiggled the secured tree. ‘You’ll be okay getting it down and into the house?’
‘Absolutely.’ Oh God, which question was she answering?
‘I mean, the tree. I can get it down. And inside.’ Maybe not, but she needed to hightail it out of here before her out-of-control imagination came up with any more completely inappropriate visions.
Or she crossed yet another professional line and changed her answer.
She plucked out the notes she’d pulled from her wallet before leaving home and thrust them at him. ‘Thanks so much. For the tree.’
She stepped towards the car but he made no attempt to move and her arm brushed against his torso as she reached for the door.
Her skin prickled, as if a loveliness of lady beetles was tap-dancing up her arm.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, she locked the doors just in case he attempted to jump in beside her and pressed the ignition button.
In her rear-vision mirror, Cole Harrison stood with one hand on his hip and the other scratching his head, looking confused.
‘That makes two of us, buddy.’