Chapter 2
2
NICK
“ O ne warm chocolate milk incoming,” I said as I headed from the kitchen to the sofa.
The big windows that lined the front of my cabin revealed a winter wonderland on the other side. It only made the burning fireplace in front of my visitor cozier.
“Thanks,” Waverly said. “I would’ve taken you up on your offer of coffee, but I can’t have caffeine after noon. Keeps me up all night.”
Up all night. Those three words jerked my cock to attention. I’d already been trying not to think about how beautiful this woman was. And she’d only been harder to resist once she removed the hood that had been hiding her long, dark hair. It was a stark contrast to the bright green eyes now staring at me. Then there were those lips—so freaking kissable.
And that didn’t even cover what was going on below the neck. She’d removed her puffer jacket to reveal a sweater and jeans that did nothing to hide her ample curves. My mind had been preoccupied with thoughts of running my hands over that body since I’d shown her where the sofa was and headed to the kitchen.
“I just came from the ski lodge in town,” I said, taking a seat on the recliner on the opposite end of the couch from her.
“I noticed the signs for that as I entered town. I guess that’s the big draw here. I saw a shopping center going in too?”
I nodded. “They’re growing this place like crazy. I came here to get away from all that, but it looks like it’s following me.”
“Where’s that?” she asked, looking at me over the rim of her mug. “Where are you from?”
As Waverly took a sip, I hesitated. This woman was clearly here to serve me papers. Papers that had been filed by my former business partner. That meant she couldn’t be trusted, right?
Not necessarily. Process servers were doing a job. It wasn’t like she was on Kurt’s side. Besides, if she had to ask, she probably didn’t know much about my background.
“Greensboro,” I said.
“That’s where I live.” She lowered the mug to her lap. “You didn’t like it?”
That was a good question. I didn’t like the rat race. That would be my answer if I were to be honest with her. I’d had a fancy condo downtown and, for a while, I loved my life. But once I discovered what my fellow ex-vet and business partner was up to, I withdrew the funds I had invested in the business and fled, leaving no forwarding address.
I’d been hiding here in the mountains since that day. Until now. Until this goddess tracked me down, paperwork in hand.
“I prefer being out in nature,” I said. “It’s quiet up here. Everybody leaves you alone. And if I need something, I can get it over in Adairsville.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I guess being a ski town, with growth, you’ll just bring in more tourists.”
“Exactly.” I sighed. “They breeze through here, loading up on pancakes and bear carvings, then head home and forget all about us until the next time they want to throw on a pair of skis. It’s already tough to get up and down the mountain without dealing with traffic this time of year. I guess you didn’t see any of that tonight, though.”
She shook her head. “I actually nearly slid off the mountain. Luckily, I was going so slow, it didn’t damage my car. And the guardrail, of course, stopped me from plummeting to my death.”
At those words, my breath caught. The idea of something happening to this woman bothered me, and I couldn’t quite explain why. Of course, I was physically attracted to her. What warm-blooded, straight male wouldn’t be? But this went beyond sex.
“Some guy with a tow truck saved me,” she said. “Seduction Summit Towing.”
I nodded. “Brock. I saw him hanging out at the lodge. Offered him a room here for the night.”
She stared at me for the longest time. I tried to read her expression. I wanted to believe she was seeing me in a new light. As a kind, generous guy, not some monster who took off on his business partner.
But Waverly wouldn’t know the details of my business dealings. I had to keep reminding myself of that. All she probably knew was that someone was suing me. And that wasn’t news to me. I had an inbox full of threatening emails that told me exactly why a stranger had arrived in my driveway holding an envelope.
“It looked like they were setting people up to sleep on the booths in the restaurant.” I started shaking my head. “I can’t imagine. But Brock seemed to be chasing around after the blonde who works at the front desk.”
Now Waverly was really staring. She took another sip from her mug, reminding me I’d neglected mine too long. My coffee would get cold if I didn’t pound it pretty quickly.
I lifted the mug to my lips and watched Waverly as she shifted in her seat, tilting her head slightly before speaking again. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. You’re not a hopeless romantic, I take it.”
I nearly choked on the swallow of coffee I was still downing. No, I wasn’t. Far from it. I was a crotchety thirty-five-year-old who hadn’t had a serious relationship since seventh grade. And that probably didn’t count since we barely spoke to each other. We were just seventh-grade official—boyfriend and girlfriend for about three weeks. Until she dumped me for Luke Adams.
“I’m kind of a loner up here,” I said. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there aren’t many women in this town. Not my age, anyway.”
“I haven’t had time to look around,” she said. “I assume you’re right, though. There just aren’t enough shops and restaurants to employ locals, and I didn’t see any office buildings or anything.”
“That’ll change, though,” I said. “The guy who built this cabin is building homes all up and down this mountain. And, yeah, there’s the shopping center near downtown. Then there’s the courthouse and town hall on the square, along with a church and some law offices. There’s room for growth.”
“And room for you to find the right woman.”
Now I was the one staring at her. I wasn’t sure what to say. What I normally would do was laugh at any suggestion that I might someday settle down and start a family or even get married. That wasn’t in the cards for me, or so I’d long thought.
But one thing occurred to me right now. No way would any woman ever hold a candle to the one sitting in front of me.
Instead of shoving that thought aside, I leaned into it. What was going on here? What was it about her that had spoken to me?
“What about you?” I asked. “Married? Kids? Boyfriend?”
She shook her head. “None of the above. I travel a lot for work.”
“What do you do?”
After the words were out, I wanted to take them back. That question could put her in a sticky position. Would she be honest about why she was here? If she truly was a process server, she was supposed to have already handed the document over to me, but it was sitting on my coffee table, which probably counted it as delivered.
I wasn’t going to fight it, anyway. In fact, maybe I should have told her that up front. I could’ve taken the envelope from the start and gotten that out of the way.
“I’m a process server,” she said, pointing to the coffee table. “You’ve been served.” Then she looked back at me. “That’s the way I officially say it. Then I tell the recipient to have a nice evening. Kind of sucks, huh?”
I shrugged. “It’s not your fault. Most of the time, people probably expect what you’re delivering. Anyone who tries to outrun it is just kicking the can down the road.”
“Kicking the can down the road.” A smile slowly spread over her face. “I like that. And yes, it’s true. I’ve had people throw it back at me, slam doors in my face. All it does is make my job harder. It doesn’t fix the problem for them.”
“How did you get into this line of work?” I asked.
A better question was running through my mind. I felt like an asshole for even thinking it, so I definitely wasn’t going to put it into words. That question was about the safety of this kind of work for a woman like her. Going to strange men’s houses all the time, knocking on the doors of sometimes sketchy people…
It wasn’t that I was sexist or anything. I just feared for her safety. I wanted to protect her and keep her safe. And I had no right at all to feel that way.
“It pays well,” she said, smiling down at her cup. Then she lifted her head to look me in the eye again, and my body jumped to attention. “After high school graduation, I worked mostly in retail. I tried waiting tables. The tips are far better than what I made working in department stores and strip malls, but the work wasn’t for me. I don’t like being stuck in the same building all day, every day.”
She set her mug on the wooden coffee table in front of her and sat back on the cushion, crossing her arms over her chest. Then she paused for a long moment, as though thinking through her next words. Maybe she was deciding just how much she was going to open up to me.
“My best friend at the time was dating a guy who worked as a bail bondsman,” she said. “We stopped by to visit him one night, and he suggested I check into this type of work. I never looked back.”
“It’s pretty dangerous, though,” I said. “Are you packing?”
She blinked at me, and that was when I knew she definitely wasn’t quite as tough as she pretended to be. Or maybe it was that she wasn’t hardened like I would expect from someone who’d been in this line of work for a while.
“Not a gun,” she said. “Pepper spray. And some pretty intense self-defense training. I know how to take down even a man your size. S-I-N-G.”
I frowned. Sing? Was that the name of the organization that had taught her? Maybe it was her self-defense certification. Hell if I knew.
“Solar plexus, instep, nose, and groin,” she said, pointing to each area on her body as she spoke. “The solar plexus knocks the wind out of your assailant. Then you hit him in the foot and nose to throw him off guard.”
“And cause some serious pain,” I said. “Especially if you hit hard enough.”
She nodded. “Then there’s the groin.”
I winced. We were talking about some serious pain to an area I’d protect at all costs. But having her mention that particular part of the body sent blood rushing straight to my cock. Maybe it was a protective measure, but my money was on my body wanting her to home in on that exact area of me.
“You learned all that in self-defense class?” I asked.
Waverly shook her head. “From a movie. Self-defense class was mostly practicing striking and blocking techniques. There’s a lot more to it, but the most important thing is throwing an attacker off guard so you can run.”
I took my final sip of coffee and set the mug next to me. Then I crossed my arms over my chest and eyed her. Time to get serious.
“Coming up here in the middle of a snowstorm is pretty dangerous,” I said. “I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but I was at a crowded lodge for two hours. You could have walked right in, handed the envelope to me on that stool, and been out and on your way home in no time.
She squeezed her eyes closed, and the move immediately made me feel guilty. I definitely didn’t want to criticize her work. What I wanted was for her to be safe.
“I need the money,” she said. “I get paid by the attempt, but I also have two more deliveries to make. I wanted to pound them out before Friday. Camping out in your driveway was the best way to guarantee you couldn’t ditch me.”
I frowned. “What’s Friday?”
“The last chance to snatch up opportunities before the weekend,” I said. “I have bills to pay.”
I didn’t want to probe any deeper into that, but I couldn’t admire this woman more. She had hustle, I’d give her that. For whatever reason, she needed money, and she was doing what it took to get it.
But what was really bugging me was this almost primal need I had to take care of her. To make sure she never had to hustle again. Yes, that also seemed sexist, but it wasn’t something I could even control. I wanted her to be safe and happy.
I couldn’t allow myself to have those feelings, so all I could do was exactly what I’d always done. I shoved the feelings aside and focused on the task at hand.
“You must be hungry,” I said. “Let me see what I can put together for you.”