Chapter 17
Tilda
“Well, I’m sorry.” I shift, planting my right foot on the ground, then I press my hand against my raised knee and push up to standing. “I was told I’m supposed to make noise while in the forest.”
“You are.” He lifts that annoying brow again. “But you can still listen. Or use your eyeballs.”
Previous sympathy gone, I mumble under my breath as I bend down and pick up the flower I cut and my scissors. “You could use your eyeballs.”
“Okay.” He points at the flower in my hand. “That’s illegal.”
I look down. “Flowers?”
“Picking flowers in a state park. They’re protected.”
“But I didn’t pick it. I cut it.”
His eyebrow stays up.
“It’ll grow back.” I argue, raising my voice over the music.
He sighs. “The law doesn’t care how you retrieve them. Just that you don’t.”
Irritation flares in my chest as he pulls a small pad of paper out of his pocket. “What’s that?” I use the flower to point at his hand. “Are you giving me a ticket?”
He nods.
I stomp my foot, careful not to trample any flowers. “Seriously?”
He pulls a pen from his chest pocket and starts to write. “Same last name as Jack?”
“No.” I grit out.
He looks up at me.
I don’t want to tell him. But I don’t know if I can get arrested by a park ranger. And I don’t really feel like finding out the hard way. “It’s Wright. With a W. Like the airplane brothers.”
He takes a step closer. “Can you turn that music off?”
“No,” I say stubbornly.
He tilts his head, brow furrowing. “Where is it coming from anyway?”
I feel my cheeks darken. “None of your business.”
His gaze lowers to my waist, and my frustration at everything grows.
Him. Life. The fact that I fell again because of him.
I want to leave the music on just to be obstinate. But it is pretty loud. And I’m no longer in the mood for this playlist. “Can you turn around?”
“No.” He repeats my earlier answer back to me.
I’d leave the music playing, just to bother him, but it’s making me feel… ridiculous.
“Please?” I ask between my teeth.
“No,” he says again, hovering his pen over the pad as he keeps watching me.
I press my lips together and angle my body so the side with the pocket is away from him. Then I shift the scissors into the hand with the flower, reach up under my skirt, and pull my phone free from my pocket.
I turn off the music, then slide my phone back into my pocket.
“Happy?” I face him.
“Ecstatic,” he deadpans. Then he goes back to writing.
Writing a mother-flipping ticket for picking a flower.
Anger building, I crouch down and cut another flower. Then another.
I can’t believe this man snuck up on me again.
I don’t know how big this state park is, but it seems super unlikely that he would happen across this same little piece of land two days in a row.
At least I didn’t imagine him.
Not that the reality of him is any better. Even if he is hotter than I remember.
I cut another flower and glance up at him, hoping to sneak a peek at his rugged good looks.
But of course, he’s staring right at me.
“What are you doing?” Ethan sounds exasperated.
Well, that makes two of us, buddy.
I cut another flower. “If you’re giving me a ticket, I might as well earn it.” I cut another one.
“Tilda Wright.” He basically sighs my name. And I hate how good it sounds.
It’s been way too long since I’ve gotten laid.
“Ethan Grump.” I take two steps away from him, then crouch down and cut three more at once.
“You need to stop.”
“Why?” I hold his gaze as I cut another one.
He shakes his head, and I notice that he’s not wearing a hat this time. Yesterday he had a baseball hat shading his face and covering his hair, but today… he’s on display.
Shame we don’t admire stick-in-the-mud jerks.
“Because, Bad Girl,” he says slowly, annoyingly, “If you cut too many, the fine will go up.”
Bad girl?
Heat rolls around in my belly. But I refuse to acknowledge it.
I look down at the cluster of flowers in my hand, trying to count them. “What’s the number?”
He huffs, like I’m the one being unreasonable. “I’m not telling you that.”
“Guess I’ll take my chances, then.”
I take a few more steps toward a pretty blue flower I hadn’t noticed before.
“Miss Wright,” Ethan snaps, and I freeze. “Do not cut that flower.”
I look down at the unique bloom. “Is it poisonous?”
“No, but that is the Colorado State Flower, and if you cut that in front of me, you will be in even bigger trouble.”
I am so sick of this man scolding me.
So freaking sick of it.
“Fine.” I step away from the flower and glare at the man staring at me.
Judging me.
The man who called me ridiculous.
He lifts his chin. “What?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but you want to.” He goads me. “Holding back doesn’t seem like your style, Starlight.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
I don’t know what starlight means, but I’m sure it’s some sort of insult. “Just write the ticket.”
He sighs, then rips the top sheet off the pad and holds it out to me.
I stare at it.
The urge to use my scissors and cut it into a dozen pieces flares bright.
He gives the paper a little shake. “You gonna take it?”
“You gonna admit your butthole looks like an asshole?”
My eyes widen as they snap up to meet his.
I didn’t mean to say that.
Not out loud.
Ethan’s mouth opens.
And I prepare myself for anger.
But then… he laughs.
A full-body, so loud it scares the birds out of the trees kind of laugh.
And whyyyy does that make him even hotter?
He closes his fingers around the ticket, crinkling the paper in his large grip.
“Just go,” he laughs, shaking his head.
I look from his smiling mouth to the crumbled ticket in his hand, then back up to his eyes.
He uses the back of his hand to wipe at his eyes.
Is this man crying?
He points back toward my property. “Before I change my mind.”
I’m torn between wanting to laugh with him and wanting to shove that ticket into his open mouth.
But… if he’s letting me go.
I turn my back on him and pick my way back to the fence, avoiding stepping on flowers and branches.
When I reach the property line, I want to wait. Want to stand here and wait until he’s disappeared back into the woods, so he won’t watch me struggle again.
Because I’m sure I’m going to make an even bigger mess of this than I did coming through it the first time.
But I also don’t have money to burn on wildflower tickets, so I’m taking this getaway opportunity. Even if it makes me look ridiculous.
I toss my scissors to the ground on the other side of the fence and bunch up my skirt in my free hand.
But I can’t toss the flowers. I don’t want to damage them. And I can’t hold up the top wire with my hand full.
A hand reaches past me, gripping the top wire and lifting it.
I don’t turn to face him.
He’s close.
So close.
Closer than he’s ever been.
If I turned, our faces would be inches away.
If I turned, I might brush his chest with my shoulder.
Ethan lifts a big, booted foot, and he presses it down on the middle strand of barbed wire, creating a bigger opening than I could ever do on my own.
Taking the kindness, I duck through the fence, my dress not catching at all.
With my back to him, I let go of my skirt.
“Did you remove the rest of the ribbon?” I ask quietly.
But I know he hears me.
“Put some ointment on your knees, Starlight.”