Chapter 1 #2
The weapon’s weight dragged her arm down a notch.
“Jaxon?” Of all the creeps in town, he seemed the least likely to show up at her door.
He was one of the few men under the age of forty who hadn’t asked her out.
He didn’t linger in the grocery store aisles or ask her too-personal questions.
No, Jaxon was the one whose gaze lingered longer than the rest—not on her chest or her ass but on her most personal space: her eyes.
As if he wanted to see into her soul or something.
But in her experience, men weren’t that deep.
They all had their ways of getting women into bed.
He’d be the most dangerous, the one who knew how to strum the right chords to get exactly what he wanted.
But showing up at her door after midnight in the dead of winter during a blizzard? It was almost too crazy for Trevor. Definitely too crazy for Jaxon.
“What do you want?” She brought her eye to the peephole.
Her hand hovered over the switch for the porchlight, but she curled her fingers away.
Somehow, turning on a light would make it too real; it would make it weird to ask him to leave.
Which didn’t make any dang sense since he had no business being at her door in the first place.
“Truck broke down,” he said. “Fucking Bobby, that crook.” The accusation sent her eyebrows together. “I got attacked by a mountain lion, I think. I’m bleeding. I just need a lift to town—I . . . I’ve got some cash.” McKenna heard a groan. “Maybe. Hell, I might have left my wallet in my truck.”
She flicked on the light, unbolted the lock, and inched the door open.
Leveling the barrel of the gun through the crack, she studied him.
In the orange glow of the porch light, she saw fear etched into the tense lines of his cheekbones.
A beanie covered with the hood of his jacket hid the top of his forehead.
He stood, leaned rather, with his hand propped on the doorframe.
Deep, heavy breaths puffed from his chapped lips.
He looked like one of the Viking heroes from the History Channel.
She’d been obsessed with watching the shows about them over the last few weeks.
Not a hint of lust or drunkenness laced his emerald-green eyes, but he watched her nonetheless. His uneasy gaze dropped to the muzzle of the weapon. “Are you gonna shoot me?” The faint Boston accent made her knees wobble.
She steeled her spine and lowered the gun. “Get inside.”
He mumbled a thank you, slipped into the entryway, and shut the door.
She kept the weapon in her grasp but pointed it at the floor by her feet.
She’d always had a strong intuition and had let it guide her numerous times when everything else in her world hadn’t made sense.
Six years ago, it had led her to quit her career, sell her city condo, and move to the mountains to find her soul.
She’d been happy ever since—until Trevor clouded all her joy.
Warning bells had always fired in her head when she was around him.
That was one of the reasons she’d avoided him like the plague before she knew what kind of scum he was.
Jaxon on the other hand . . . His presence didn’t carry a hint of a threat, and every movement he made screamed that he needed her help.
She lowered her gaze to the hand at his side. As if remembering what he held, he lifted it: a can of bear spray. Her stomach knotted. He grimaced and then winced. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and set it on the table near the door.
A little of her tension ebbed away. “You said a mountain lion got you?”
He nodded, flipped off his hood and beanie, then stripped out of his jacket to reveal a thermal long-sleeved shirt. “Yeah. The beast came out from behind me.” He pulled his arm out of his sleeve and his body tensed.
Cougar attacks were rare—hell, she’d never heard of one happening locally before. At least not for decades. That didn’t mean it hadn’t happened though. She stepped forward and took his coat then set the gun against the wall. The healer in her always got the best of her. “Where are you hurt?”
He coughed. “Everywhere.” He swayed on his feet and she caught his arm.
Deep ravines of stress creased the skin around his eyes.
She positioned her shoulder under his arm.
He didn’t lean on her, but his steps were less cautious.
One glance at his scruffy jaw revealed blood on the side of his neck.
Her pulse kicked up a notch—he could have been killed.
While she loved living with the majestic creatures in the mountains, the fear of their power never left her.
She dropped her gaze and took in his jeans, which were soaked to the knees. God he was big. If he lost his balance, they’d both topple over. She led him through the entryway that opened into the combined living room and kitchen. Her bedroom and the only bathroom lay down a short hallway.
“Sit,” she said, gesturing to her grandfather’s old rocking chair.
He sat and moaned. “Thanks for letting me warm up. If you don’t mind stopping at my truck on the way into town, I can grab my wallet and pay you.”
She propped her hands on her hips. “Sorry, no can do. My car won’t run in this. Even if I can get it to the road, the tires are practically bald.”
His head jerked up. “We’re stuck here?”
She snorted. “Happens a few times a year at least. I stock up when I hear storms are coming. I don’t like to get out too much anyway.”
He coughed into his sleeve and straightened. “Shit. Does your phone work? I couldn’t get a signal when my truck broke down.”
“Nope. And the landline went out earlier when I was talking to my mom in the city. If the snow lets up, they’ll have it up and running tomorrow.”
“Fuck,” he breathed.
Fuck was right. She couldn’t exactly send him on his way after he warmed up, not in his condition.
And she sure wouldn’t sleep easy with him camping out in her living room.
Oh well, there wasn’t much help for it. She’d check out his wounds and worry about the rest later.
Morning was only a few hours away anyway.
His hand pressed the side of his neck and she inched closer. The scent of sweat and fear emanated from his pores.
“Let me see. Did it bite you?” She leaned closer to his shoulder and cringed at the sight of the thick red liquid coating his skin.
“I think it struck me.” He blinked several times and hung his head. “Shit, I don’t feel so good.”
McKenna straightened and caught his chin in her palm. “What’s the matter?” The skin beneath his half-inch-long scruff scorched her hand. Unfocused green eyes glazed with concern sat deep in his graying skin. His chest rose and fell in a broken rhythm.
Panic ricocheted through her senses as he went limp in the chair.