2. Willow
Chapter Two
WILLOW
I’m sorting through a stack of pamphlets about poison oak when the front door chimes. I look up to see Joe, the local messenger, stroll in carrying a vase of red roses and a bright pink box.
“Delivery for the ranger’s office,” Joe announces.
“Sorry, Joe, I think you may be in the wrong place.”
Joe shakes his head. “Nope, pretty sure this is the spot. It says your name right here. Willow Rogers.”
My jaw drops open. The gift is for me? “Um, yes, that’s me, but... are you sure? I’m not expecting anything.”
Joe grins and sets the flowers and box on the counter. “Well, looks like it’s your lucky day, then.”
Behind me, I hear my coworker, Buck, snicker. “Oooh, Willow’s got a boyfriend!”
I feel my cheeks flush. Buck is only seventeen and thinks anything involving romance is hilarious.
“I do not have a boyfriend,” I mutter. At least, I’m pretty sure I don’t...
Joe tips his hat. “Have a good one, folks.” He heads out, leaving me staring dumbfounded at the unexpected delivery.
Who on earth would be sending me a gift at work? Quickly, I untie the ribbon and lift the lid off the pink box.
Then I gasp.
Inside is the most gorgeous sparkly clutch purse I’ve ever seen. There’s a card tucked inside. I open it, and my breath catches.
Hope this brightens your day, Butterfly. — Heath
Heath? As in Heath Donovan? The insanely hot, ruggedly handsome mountain man I spent an unexpected evening with at the opera last night?
Why would he be sending me a gift?
I can barely think straight. Heath was a perfect gentleman last night, keeping me company so I wouldn’t be a third wheel on my friend Eliza’s date with his brother Drew. But the way he looked at me, the electricity I felt when his hand brushed mine...
No, no way. He’s probably just a natural flirt. Guys who look like him always are. He’s just trying to get a rise out of me. Toying with the small-town, naive park ranger for his own amusement.
Well, I won’t let him get to me.
I shove the clutch and flowers under the desk as the office door flies open. It’s my boss, George, and he’s on his cellphone, looking harried.
“No, no, I don’t care if it’s Mittens or Fluffy, keep that damn cat inside!” George barks into the phone. “Because apparently, Fluffy’s long lost cousin is prowling around the playground ready to make a snack out of some hapless toddler, that’s why!”
I exchange a wide-eyed look with Buck. That can’t be good.
George hangs up and turns to me. “Willow, I need you to lock up. Buck and I have to hightail it over to the south side—we’ve got a cougar situation on our hands.”
“Shouldn’t I come too?” I ask, reaching for my jacket.
“Nah, Buck and I can handle one little kitty cat. You focus on closing up shop.”
I bristle at his condescending tone. “Are you sure? I’m fully trained for this exact scenario.”
“I know, I know,” George says with a placating smile makes it clear he thinks otherwise. “Tell you what, you man the fort here, and if Buck and I need you, we’ll give a holler. Sound good, sweetheart?”
I clench my teeth at his patronizing tone, but I force a tight smile. “Sure thing, boss. I’ll take care of everything here.”
“Atta girl.” He grabs his hat and turns to Buck and says, “All right, kid, let’s bounce. We’ve got a big bad puddy tat to wrangle.”
Buck leaps up eagerly, nearly tripping over his own gangly legs in excitement. I watch them go, tamping down my frustration. It’s fine. I don’t need George’s approval to know I’m damn good at my job.
As the door closes behind them, I slump back in my chair and let out a heavy sigh.
Looks like it’s just me, myself, and I tonight.
And I can’t help but think that’s probably for the best. The last thing I need is to be distracted by thoughts of dreamy Heath Donovan and his stupidly thoughtful gifts.
No, much better to be alone. Just the way I like it.
Hours later, my gaze snaps up from a stack of paperwork when my phone buzzes on the desk. Could it be...?
I snatch up the phone, trying to ignore the hopeful flutter in my chest. But the name on the screen isn’t the one I’m secretly wishing for. It’s just a text from Melanie in our group chat with Eliza.
Melanie: Still on for Sunday brunch, ladies? I need me some mimosas and girl talk, stat!
I can’t help but smile. Always count on Melanie to rally the troops. I shoot back a quick reply.
Me: You know it, girl. Mama needs her Eggs Benny fix. See you then!
I’m about to set my phone down and force myself to work when it vibrates again. My breath catches when I see who texts me this time.
Heath: Hey, Butterfly. Hope you got my little gift today and that it made you smile. Can’t stop thinking about last night. When can I see you again?
Memories of the opera—and more specifically, of Heath—flood my mind. The way his warm hand felt on the small of my back as he guided me to his private box. The intoxicating scent of his cologne. His piercing gaze pulling me in like a riptide.
Nothing happened between us—it was all perfectly innocent. Well, mostly innocent. There may have been a few heated glances and a bit of flirtatious banter. But we kept things platonic.
Even if deep down, a tiny, rebellious part of me wishes we hadn’t.
I stare at Heath’s text, my fingers hovering over the keyboard as I try to figure out how to respond. I’m so out of practice with this whole flirting thing.
Ugh, that man is just too sexy for his own good.
Or for my own good. With his thick beard and those broad, muscular shoulders...
No. I give myself a mental shake. I can’t go there. Heath is Drew’s brother, and Drew is dating my friend. Heath and I need to keep things strictly friendly.
I need to remember why starting something with Heath would be a very bad idea. I’m not looking for complications, and Heath Donovan is complication personified.
Determined to keep things light, I tap out a breezy reply.
Me: Yep, got the gift. That was so sweet of you, thanks so much. And last night was fun—I had a great time. Talk soon?
I hit send before I can overthink it, then toss my phone in my bag, trying to ignore the giddy warmth in my chest and the pang of disappointment that I didn’t agree to see Heath again right away.
It’s for the best. I’m sure whatever this spark is between us will fizzle out if I don’t fan the flames.
At least, I really hope so. Because falling for Heath Donovan is a risk I can’t take.
I gather up the gorgeous clutch and bouquet of flowers, inhaling the sweet fragrance one last time before shutting off the lights and locking up the ranger office for the day.
As I trudge across the dirt parking lot to my car, my body aches with exhaustion. All I can think about is getting home, popping a frozen dinner in the microwave, and collapsing on the couch with some mindless TV.
Just as I’m fishing in my pocket for my keys, a flash of tawny fur catches my eye. I freeze, my heart leaping into my throat.
Oh no. It can’t be...
But it is.
An enormous mountain lion, sleek and muscular, prowls around from the other side of my car. Its flinty eyes lock with mine as it positions itself between me and the driver’s door, cutting off my escape.
Terror claws up my spine. Then a twig snaps in the woods to my left, and I whirl around to see a second mountain lion emerge from the trees, fangs bared.
Pulse galloping, I weigh my options, but there’s really only one choice. I have to get back inside the ranger office.
Now.
I spin on my heel and sprint for the office door, praying the mountain lions don’t decide to give chase. Once inside, I slam the door shut behind me and pull out my phone.
My fingers tremble as I scroll through my contacts. I hesitate for a second over my boss’s number. But I know he and Buck are probably busy dealing with the other mountain lion. Besides, the last thing I want is for George to think I can’t handle myself out here.
Then I see Heath’s name.
I remember Eliza mentioning he lives in a cabin not far from the park. I chew my lip, hating that I’m even considering this. I’ve never been the type to play damsel in distress, always priding myself on my independence. But right now, with two deadly predators stalking outside, I’m out of options. Swallowing my pride, I tap the green phone icon beside Heath’s name.
He answers on the first ring.
“Well hey there, Butterfly.” His deep voice is warm and playful. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Heath, I need help,” I blurt out, my voice shaking. “I’m trapped in the ranger office. There are two mountain lions right outside my car. They’re blocking me in. Please, I don’t know what to do.”
I hate how desperate and scared I sound, but I can’t help it.
His tone immediately shifts, going hard and serious. “I’m on my way. Stay inside and stay by your phone.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “Please hurry.”
I end the call and slump against the wall, my legs weak and shaky. Peering out the window, I see the mountain lions prowling around my Jeep, like they’re standing guard. A hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat.
Of course this would happen to me.
A few minutes later, a pair of bright headlights sweep across the parking lot, and I look up to see a big black pickup truck come roaring in. The mountain lions scatter at the sound and light, disappearing into the forest as the truck screeches to a halt beside my car.
The driver’s door flies open, and a tall, burly figure jumps out. Even from this distance, I’d recognize that chiseled profile and those broad shoulders anywhere.
Heath. He’s here.
A wave of relief crashes over me, so intense it makes my knees wobble. I watch as he scans the area, his posture tense and coiled like he’s ready for a fight.
Man, he looks good.
Even in a crisis, I can’t help but admire the way his black T-shirt clings to his muscular form. After confirming the mountain lions are gone, Heath strides toward the office with determined purpose, and something flutters in my belly.
What is wrong with me? I should be focused on the fact that I just survived a near-death experience, not ogling Heath Donovan.
I take a deep breath to compose myself. But as Heath flings open the office door, his eyes blazing with concern as they land on mine, my throat goes dry.
In two long strides, he’s in front of me, his big hands gripping my shoulders. “Baby, are you hurt?”
“I-I’m fine,” I stammer, overwhelmed by his nearness and the tenderness in his gaze as he looks me over.
Why is he being so kind? We barely know each other.
“You sure?” His brow furrows. “You’re shaking.”
“Just a little overwhelmed, I guess.” I try to laugh it off, but it comes out a sob. Mortified, I realize tears are sliding down my cheeks. I swipe at them furiously. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.”
Heath’s expression softens. “Come here, Butterfly.”
He pulls me into his arms, enveloping me in his warmth and strength. I sink into him, burying my face in his chest. He smells like pine and something uniquely masculine. I feel safe.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, running a soothing hand up and down my back. “It’s okay, let it out.”
I don’t know how long we stay like that, me soaking his shirt with my tears while he holds me and whispers reassurances. But eventually, my sobs subside and embarrassment sets in. I pull back, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. “Gosh, I’m a mess. You must think I’m so weak.”
Heath tilts my chin up with his finger. “Never. You’re one of the strongest women I know.”
I scoff. “Yeah, I’m sure you can tell that by the way I just fell apart.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Even the strongest people need comfort sometimes, Butterfly.”
The nickname makes my heart flutter. He called me that last night too. I thought it was just a line, but the way he’s looking at me now, with a mix of tenderness and heat, makes me wonder.
“I think I know something that might make you feel better,” Heath says, his voice low and rumbly.
“What’s that?” I ask, my own voice coming out breathier than I intend.
“Food. With me.” The way he says it, it’s more of a command than a request.
I blink up at him, sure I must have misheard. “Wait, are you asking me on a date?”
Heath chuckles, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Yes, baby. I’m asking you on a date. You just had an adrenaline crash—you need to get some food in you.”
My belly swoops.
Heath Donovan is asking me out. This has to be a dream. Or maybe I actually did get mauled by a mountain lion and this is some kind of heaven.
As if sensing my hesitation, Heath’s mouth curves into a devastating smile. “Come on, go out with me. I promise I don’t bite.” His eyes gleam wickedly. “Unless you want me to.”