Chapter One #2
Damn it. I’d been raised a gentleman, which also meant I should shut my eyes, walk away, do something—anything—other than stare. But my eyes were glued to her backside and as much as I hated myself for looking, I couldn’t stop myself.
Her movements sped up, frantic in nature. Her back was half towards me and with each tug her curvy hips wiggled. Instinct demanded I offer my help, but I quickly squashed that idea.
I wasn’t stupid.
A guttural groan left her mouth as she yanked harder.
Then yanked again.
So hard she stumbled.
Oh shit.
A low thud sounded as she landed face first into the grass below.
I cringed as laughter bubbled up inside me. I knew it was wrong. What was happening was not funny. At least not for her. I choked back the chuckle as I let the reeds snap into place. “I didn’t see anything,” I lied.
Her answering harrumph told me she didn’t believe me. “I told you to stay away.”
I retreated a few feet, reluctant to go any further in case she needed assistance. “Do you, uh, need …”
“No. I don’t.” Her grumpy reply widened my smile.
After another frustrated sigh, the sound of fabric rustling, and her muttering under her breath again, I cleared my throat. “About your car ...”
Her face peeked out from the overgrown mess for a second before hiding again. “Seriously, dude. Take a few steps in the opposite direction. What are you? A creep?”
I held out my palms in the familiar stop motion to show I wasn’t a threat. Although, as my sister Grace often reminded my brothers and me, at over six feet, our size was enough to scare a lone woman, despite our best intentions. “Listen, I’m going to step back. But I can’t just—”
“If you don’t move away another ten feet right now, I’ll use my weapon,” she threatened. Her voice wavered slightly, but the threat was clear.
Shit. I wasn’t sure what to do. Call Grace? I reached for my phone.
“Keep your hands where I can see them.”
I tried another tactic. “Why don’t you come out and you can show me what’s wrong with your car?” I offered, gentling my voice, hoping I sounded somewhat friendly. I wasn’t my cousin, but I could at least see if anything looked out of place.
“No.” Her voice floated out around the overgrown mess. I made a mental note to remind our newly-elected mayor, Everly Grant, that someone needed to take care of this.
“Great—wait. What?” I was used to people doing as I asked, Glamma and my family excluded.
“Why should I trust you? What if you’re a serial killer?” Her sharp words indicated she wasn’t kidding.
“I can promise you I’m not.” I tried to keep my tone even and non-threatening even though I wanted to laugh at the idea of me being a serial killer.
“Isn’t that what a serial killer would say?” she scoffed.
“I hardly have the time for a life of crime and I’d be terrible at hiding the bodies,” I laughed.
“I watch a lot of true crime. I’m practically a detective at this point.” Her insistent tone told me she was serious. “Besides, a serial unaliver would say anything to gain my trust.” She shook her head. She probably thought I was stupid.
I took a step closer. If I moved slowly, maybe I could get her to trust me. Although, if she knew me, she’d know I was the last person to be accused of being a murderer.
As the oldest sibling, I was the responsible one. The one everyone came to with their problems. The one that had taken on the mantle of our family business. It was my duty to my family and one I luckily enjoyed.
“Stay back!” she shouted. I flinched at the ear-shattering vocal range she continued to exhibit. “I told you. I’m armed.” Her head poked out around a tree this time, likely to assess how close I was. She aggressively shook her arm to show off her weapon, warning me.
I held out my palms again. “Just trying to help.”
“I don’t believe you. What good samaritan accuses a person of trying to kill someone with their car? Maybe you were projecting.”
For the love of God. This was now bordering on ridiculous.
My humor was fading into annoyance and it didn’t matter that when she wasn’t screaming, she had the voice of a sexy angel. I didn’t need this right now. Clearly, someone watched too many episodes of Dateline.
All I wanted to do was go home, relax, grab a beer, and pore over the papers my virtual assistant, Ellie, had sent earlier. I hated to admit that the favorite part of my day was our calls or email exchanges. She had this sweetness about her that contradicted the husky undertone of her voice.
We’d been working together and communicating for three months now and even though we’d never met in person, I felt like I knew her. Mostly. Maybe not her hopes and dreams, but we often found ourselves ending our emails with tiny bits about our lives.
I was ready to finally meet her in person. She was set to arrive tomorrow to tour our facility and become familiar with our Headquarters.
“I’m not a serial killer.” I was one finger swipe away from calling my sister to ask if she’d help.
The woman’s muttered reply was far too low for me to catch, but the intent was clear. She didn’t believe a word I said.
“Prove it.” The brush rustled as she shoved one arm out in front of her. In her hand she held something pointed right at me.
Fuuuuuck. I didn’t have time to deal with getting shot tonight.
And how the hell was I going to prove I wasn’t an asshole out to take advantage of her?
The night sky had grown darker, with the tail end of dusk slipping behind the horizon. The moon, already in the distance, was bright enough that when she tilted her hand in just the right way, the light bounced off the object she held. One that looked less like a gun and more like a … phone?
My lips tipped up into the barest of smiles.
Maybe humor would diffuse the situation, and if not, maybe the comment about my family would.
“Just here to offer some help. Not have you throw your phone at my head. Although, my sister would tell you that it might be on the losing end since I’m so hard-headed. ”
“What? It’s not … ” she shifted, and stumbled.
By the time she caught her footing, only her face was visible from behind the bush, and tall grass.
The view of her robbed any coherent thought in my head.
Never mind just her perfect skin from earlier. This woman was fucking gorgeous. The face of an angel with honey blonde hair swept up into a messy bun, plump cupid’s bow lips, and eyes that summoned like sirens from the deep.
Her sunglasses were perched precariously on top of her head.
She bit at her lip, and I had the strangest desire to brush my thumb across the same spot to see if it was as soft as it looked.
The urge to get a closer glimpse and determine the color of her eyes and feast my gaze on her curvy body had my cock sitting up to take notice.
This insane feeling that I knew her settled into the recesses of my mind and into the corners of my soul.
Well, fuck me sideways. What the hell did all this mean?
I was supposed to be rescuing her, not picturing her in a dirty fantasy.
But the thought of tracing each dip and curve with the pads of my fingers to see where she liked to be touched caused a tightness in my pants.
I wasn’t in some cheesy Hallmark movie where the hero and heroine fall in love at first sight.
I was an intelligent man. One who based decisions on facts and figures.
I didn’t jump into anything. I planned out my life in excruciating detail.
I cleared my throat and shook my head.
What was wrong with me?
“Let me help you,” I barked. I didn’t mean it to sound harsh, but my body wasn’t listening. And I was beginning to lose my damn mind over a woman I’d just met.
“I’ve seen enough true crime episodes to know how this might end.
You could kidnap me and take me to your remote cabin in those woods.
And this might be my phone.” She shook the object in her hand at me and her head disappeared only to pop back up a few seconds later, “but I have this to defend myself with. So stay back.” The beautiful stranger pointed another object at me, her arm waving out from the tall grass.
“Not a kidnapper.” I deadpanned and gestured to the newest ‘weapon’ she was brandishing. At this point, between the moonlight and our close proximity, I could see her hand clearly enough to know she was full of crap. “What are you going to do, bludgeon me with it?”
She didn’t hide her startled expression fast enough. “I have pepper spray!” she lied as though I hadn’t seen what she was really holding.
“If you’d just put away your attack flashlight or shine it towards the problem with your car, we can both be on our way.”
“It’s not … how do you …” She stopped speaking. “Fine, but I do have an actual weapon on me.” The mystery woman tossed the flashlight, straightened up, and rattled her keys aggressively. “There’s a sharp, pointy knife on this.”
I doubted she had anything on her that would hurt me, but I understood her hesitation. She was alone with a strange guy on the side of a dark road. She didn’t know my family founded this town or that everyone in it could vouch for me.
I pointed at her car.
“Fine,” she repeated. A fierce scowl crossed her face, only intriguing me further, and what looked like a streak of dirt on her cheek only endeared her to me more.
“Just know I’m watching you.” If her hands hadn’t been full of her ‘weapons’ I had a feeling she’d be giving me the I’m watching you two-finger gesture.
I quieted my voice and moved closer to the hood of the car while she stayed half hidden by the brush. “What happened?”
A heavy sigh left her lips, and the surprising need to comfort her churned in my gut. “The check engine light came on a few miles back and then the car just stopped. I’m not sure what’s wrong with it.” She wiped at her forehead. “My windows wouldn’t even roll down.”
“Do you want to come out and show me?”
She grimaced. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good here.”