Chapter 2 Nate
NATE
For a few groggy seconds, I couldn’t place where I was. Not my apartment. Not a base. The mattress was too soft, the sheets smelled like lavender, and pale morning light filtered through curtains covered in tiny yellow flowers.
Where the fuck was I?
Then it clicked.
Maya’s room. Maya’s bed. Esperance. North Carolina.
I let out a slow breath and scrubbed a hand over my face.
Right. I was back. Back in the town I’d spent ten years trying to put in my rearview mirror.
Back sleeping in the Brookes family home like some kind of stray they’d taken in.
Back where everything felt too close, too familiar, too much like a trap waiting to spring.
Acid churned in my gut. I shoved the feeling down before it could take root.
The room was aggressively feminine. Soft colors, a bookshelf stuffed with paperbacks, a corkboard on the wall still pinned with old photos and ticket stubs. It was like stepping into a time capsule. Like she’d just left for college and never cleared it out.
Which, apparently, she hadn’t.
The image of Maya at the bar last night crashed into my brain before I could stop it. She’d stood frozen while everyone else surged forward. Yeah, I’d frozen too, caught off guard by how much she’d changed.
She wasn’t Dan’s kid sister anymore. That much was painfully clear.
The hug. Christ, that hug. I’d meant to keep it brief, casual, the same as everyone else. But then she was pressed against me, warm and soft, and she smelled like something sweet I couldn’t name, and my arms had tightened around her without permission.
She’d felt good. Too damn good.
My body stirred at the memory, and I threw back the covers as if they’d caught fire.
Nope. Absolutely not. I was not going to lie in Maya Brookes’ childhood bed, surrounded by her things, breathing in traces of her scent, and let myself go there. That was a line I wasn’t crossing.
I swung my legs over the side of the mattress and planted my feet on the floor, willing my blood to redirect itself somewhere more appropriate.
Cold shower. That’s what I needed. A very long, very cold shower.
I grabbed the towel Nancy had left on the dresser and headed down the hall. With Nancy and John out playing golf, I had the place to myself, so I took my time in the shower, letting the cold water do its job. By the time I shut off the tap, my head was clearer and my body was back under control.
Drying off, I wrapped the towel around my waist and reached for my razor. I lathered my face and started scraping at my whiskers, my mind wandering back to last night, no matter how hard I tried to fight it.
That’s when I heard the gasp.
My head snapped toward the doorway.
Maya stood frozen in the hall, a suitcase dangling from her fingers as she stared at me. Those green eyes went wide, then dropped to my bare chest, and I could swear I felt her gaze like a hot touch on my skin.
Neither of us moved.
An adorable blush crept up her neck, flooding her cheeks with color. “Oh, um, sorry.” She averted her eyes, shifting her grip on the suitcase. “I didn’t know you were here already.”
Before I could say a word, she turned and disappeared down the hall, the suitcase wheels rattling against the hardwood behind her.
I cleaned the remaining cream off my face in record time and followed her toward the bedroom. She was already inside, throwing open the wardrobe doors with more force than strictly necessary.
“No, I’m sorry,” I said from the doorway. “Your mom insisted I grab my things from the hotel and come right over last night.”
Which she would have known if she hadn’t bolted so early, taking her entire posse with her.
“It’s no problem.” She didn’t look at me. Just started pulling clothes from the wardrobe and stuffing them into the suitcase on the unmade bed, barely pausing to fold anything.
“You don’t need to do that. I don’t need the wardrobe.”
“It’s fine.”
The sharp clip of her voice was a dead giveaway.
She was pissed off. I’d barely been back twenty-four hours, so it couldn’t be anything I’d done.
Could it? I wanted to ask if everything was okay, but the question felt strange in my mouth.
She was the same Maya I’d known since she was a kid, but she was also completely different. A familiar stranger.
She bent over to scoop a pile of shoes into her arms, and I couldn’t help myself. My gaze dropped. Her ass looked incredible in those tight khaki pants, and I was only human.
She straightened and turned too quickly.
Caught. Definitely caught.
Her expression flickered, but she didn’t call me out. Just dumped the shoes into the suitcase and turned back to the wardrobe. The silence stretched between us, thick and awkward, until something registered in my brain.
“You’re wearing a uniform.”
“I sure am.” She zipped up the suitcase with a sharp tug and turned toward the door.
Where I was standing. Blocking her path.
She stopped short, her throat moving as she swallowed. “Excuse me.”
I didn’t step aside. Instead, I reached out and flicked my finger at the badge sewn onto her shirt. “Park Ranger.”
Her breath hitched, almost imperceptibly. “Got it in one.”
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms over my bare chest to fill the space. “That’s the perfect job for you.”
“Yeah, it is.” She lifted her chin, refusing to give an inch.
The edge in her voice was unmistakable, but she didn’t move.
Neither did I. We were close enough for the gold flecks in her green eyes to catch the light.
That same sweet scent from last night washed over me, messing with my head.
Her gaze dropped to my bare chest for just a second before snapping back up.
The air between us crackled.
She squared her shoulders and stepped forward, forcing me to move or let her brush past. I shifted just enough to let her through, but not enough to make it easy, so her shoulder grazed my chest as she slipped by. Her breath caught sharply.
“Put some clothes on, why don’t you?” she muttered without looking back.
Then she disappeared down the hall, suitcase wheels rattling against the hardwood.
Yeah. That cold shower hadn’t done a damn thing.