Chapter Three
Cindy
I’m hanging on to this stranger like my life depends on it.
And maybe it does.
I don’t know where he’s taking me, and I don’t care. His arms are solid around me, one tucked under my knees, the other cradling my back like I’m made of glass. But the strength in them is undeniable, like he could tear through the entire forest if he had to.
I’ve never felt so…safe.
His scent wraps around me. Smoke. Pine. Leather. And something warm and masculine I can’t even name. It settles into my lungs like peace. I didn’t think I’d ever feel that again.
Not after what just happened. Not after my dad’s death.
I bunch his shirt in my hand, holding on to him as tightly as I can. I close my eyes and just let myself exist in this moment. I needed help, and this rugged mountain man showed up like a storm out of nowhere. Rough and wild and perfect.
He’s my guardian angel.
I sneak a peek at him, lifting my face just a little.
And…holy hell. He’s gorgeous. Impossibly so.
His chest is broad, and thick biceps flex beneath his rolled-up sleeves.
His skin is sun-kissed, stretched over hard, corded muscle.
He’s got dark, tousled hair that curls just slightly around his ears, a jawline sharp enough to cut granite, and a permanent five o’clock shadow that makes my stomach tighten with a delicious sensation.
My eyes fall to the tattoo peeking out from under the sleeve of his left arm and for a moment, I wonder what it’d be like to run my hands over the dark, intricate ink lines.
I lift my gaze to his face again, my heart skipping a beat. His features look carved from stone, rugged and a little weathered like some ancient Roman god. And his eyes…oh God. His eyes are a deep brown. Not soft. Not gentle. Intense. Like the earth cracked open and put fire behind them.
Lyle looked like he was going to piss himself the second this man stepped out of the trees. And honestly? I get it. If I hadn’t been so terrified, I probably would’ve felt the same.
At that moment, he glances down and our eyes lock. My breath ceases and his mouth quirks into a hint of a smirk. Heat spreads across my skin and I imagine I look something like a tomato.
I let out an embarrassed squeak, burying my face into his chest again. I’m mortified, but unable to help the stupid grin tugging at my lips. His chest rumbles under my cheek, a low laugh that vibrates through me like thunder.
God help me, I love the sound of it.
He carries me a few more steps before carefully easing me down onto the passenger seat of his truck like I’m something fragile and precious. The cabin’s high off the ground, but he handles me like I weigh nothing.
Then he positions himself between my legs and raises his hand to my face, gently brushing his thumb over a scratch on my jaw. I flinch, more from surprise than pain. His touch is warm. Careful. But his eyes have darkened, his expression stormy.
It almost looks like he’s mad, but not at me. I wonder if he’s mad at Lyle for hurting me. I might be wrong, but I can’t help but think that if Lyle had done anything worse, this man would’ve done something about it—something permanent.
“You okay?” he asks quietly, his stormy brown eyes intently searching my face.
I nod, my breath catching in my throat. “Yeah.”
I swallow nervously, wishing he’d look away and release me from this magical spell, but he doesn’t. His gaze lingers, burning with a fire that heats me up from the inside. His brow furrows slightly, like he’s trying to solve some kind of puzzle, and then his eyes drop slowly to my lips.
My stomach flips. He doesn’t bother to hide the hunger in his eyes. He looks at me like he might devour me. Like I’m a feast he’s been starving for. I should feel nervous. Scared, even.
But I don’t.
For the first time in my life, I don’t want to run from male attention. In fact, it’s the opposite.
My body leans toward him without permission. There’s something about him…something primal. Protective. A spark ignites inside me, something unfamiliar but fierce. Like I’ve needed this for as long as I’ve been alive, but it was buried too deep for me to see until now.
He leans toward me too, but as he does he brushes my injured ankle, and I can’t help jumping a little at the shock of pain.
He blinks, clearing his throat and pulling back quickly. “Let me get that cleaned up for you.”
He grabs a first aid kit from somewhere in the back of his truck, and soon his gentle, strong hands are cleaning the grazed patch of skin on my ankle, then the cut on my arm, pressing bandages to my wounds with the intensity of a surgeon.
I’m a bit embarrassed that my ankle doesn’t really look that bad. I probably could have walked just fine, but I can’t deny it felt nice to be swept up into his arms.
When he’s finished, he drags his gaze back up to my eyes like he’s pulling himself out of a trance.
“I’ve still got a few spots to check,” he says, his voice like a low rumble of thunder. “Need to make sure everything’s cooled off from the lightning strike last week. You wanna come with?”
“Yes,” I reply quickly. Too quickly.
He raises an eyebrow at me, his lips tugging in a teasing smirk.
I clear my throat, trying to recover. “I mean…yeah. I’d rather not be alone.”
“Fair enough,” he murmurs, his smirk turning into a warm smile.
“I’m so sorry to be a bother.” I duck my head to hide the blush spreading across my face. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Look at me,” he commands gently, waiting until I raise my eyes to his. Then he smiles, his eyes never leaving mine. “My name is Daniel. And you’re not a bother.”
There’s something about the way he says it—the gentle reassurance in his beautiful brown eyes—that heals something inside me. I’m overwhelmed with a senseless, irresistible urge to kiss him.
“Thanks…Daniel,” I say in a small voice, averting my eyes again before he reads the indecent thoughts going through my mind.
He doesn’t say anything, just shuts my door gently and rounds the front of the truck. I watch him the whole way. The way he moves—calm, deliberate, like he owns the earth he walks on—it does things to me that I can’t describe.
The engine growls to life, and we pull onto the dirt road. I don’t know where we’re going exactly, but for the first time in what feels like forever…I’m happy to be along for the ride.
I risk a glance at him, ignoring the desperate thudding of my heart. For the umpteenth time in the same hour, my breath catches in my throat.
How can a man be so…dangerously beautiful?
He’s driving with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on his thigh. He’s focused on the road, but I can tell he’s aware of me, every breath I take, every glance I sneak.
“So…” he drawls, finally breaking the silence. “Was that guy really your brother?”
“Yeah.” My voice is tight, but I force myself to continue. “My…stepbrother.”
The word feels like poison on my tongue. Unbearably bitter. Daniel’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t say anything, just waits.
I suck in a breath and look down at my hands. “My mom married his dad about six months ago. Lenny. He’s not…awful. But I don’t trust him. And Lyle…he’s been creeping me out from the second we met. I tried to tell my mom, but she just waves it off. Says I’m imagining things. Overreacting.”
His grip tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. “You’re not overreacting. I saw the way he looked at you.”
The quiet way he says it sends a shiver down my spine.
I nod and stare out the window for a second.
“The trip was supposed to be different. My dad and I planned it two years ago for my high school graduation. We were gonna see Yellowstone, hike, make a whole memory out of it.” My throat tightens.
“But he died. Just…a freak accident overseas. He was on a photography trip. There was a bus crash and he happened to be passing by just then.”
Daniel glances at me, something soft but stormy in his eyes.
“My mom kind of shut down after that,” I continue.
“We both did, I guess. But she moved on faster than I could.” Faster than I thought possible, but I don’t say that.
I continue, pushing the words past the lump in my throat, “One day I came home from college and Lenny was just…there. And then came Lyle.”
He doesn’t interrupt, just lets me talk. It’s…strange. I usually hate opening up. It always makes me feel exposed. But with Daniel, the words come out without me needing to drag them.
“She found the trip plans,” I say quietly. “Still folded in the back of my dresser drawer. She said we should do the trip to honor my dad’s memory or something. I thought it might be okay. But she didn’t tell me Lenny and Lyle were coming until we were already leaving.”
Daniel’s hand flexes against the gear shift.
“I’m home from college for the summer,” I add. “Not sure if I’m even going back. Nothing’s really clicked since Dad died. I just feel like I’m floating all the time. Like I lost my map.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Sounds like you’ve been carrying a hell of a lot on your own.”
I bite down on my lower lip, blinking back the tears forming in my eyes. “I’m fine,” I mumble.
He glances at me, his eyes cutting into mine. “You don’t have to say that…with me.”
God. What is it about him?
I shift in my seat, watching the way his forearms flex as he steers, how steady and grounded he seems. “What about you?” I ask, desperate for a change of subject. “What…exactly do you do? Besides rescue traumatized girls in the woods.”
That earns a faint smirk. “I work fire line support. Bush truck operator. Type three wildland engine.”
“Sounds very manly,” I tease.
He shrugs. “I guess. Mostly it means I drive this beast into places most people wouldn’t dare, scout for hot spots.
There are a lot of the lightning fires here, we let them burn because some burn and regrowth is good for the land.
But we keep a close eye on them, make sure they don’t get out of control, and contain them when necessary.
We don’t normally have huge fires here most years, with the exception being—”
“1988,” I say in unison with him, blushing when he gives me a look of surprised delight, like I just passed a pop quiz. “My dad was really into Yellowstone trivia,” I explain sheepishly. “That one stuck in my head for some reason.”
He chuckles. “It sounds like he was a great dad.”
“He was,” I say softly. I’m not sure why I keep bringing the conversation back to my dad, except that maybe Daniel kind of reminds me of him, in a way. The way he looks so at home in nature.
“Do you live out here?” I ask.
“Close. I built a cabin about ten miles south. Off-grid, mostly.”
“Of course you did.” I grin. “You look like you belong out here.”
He arches a brow. “How so?”
I wave vaguely. “You know. Wild. Rugged. Mysterious.”
He laughs again, that deep rumble that does things to me. “What about you?” he asks. “Are you always this brave? Running off into the woods?”
“I didn’t have much of a choice.”
His smile fades slightly. “No. You didn’t.”
Something shifts between us, a deeper, quieter connection that goes beyond physical attraction.
“Thank you,” I say, voice soft. “For showing up. For…saving me.”
He reaches over and brushes his fingers lightly against mine where they rest on my lap. “Anytime, darlin.’ I mean that.”
And just like that, something in me unknots. Like he’s not just rescuing my body from danger, but my heart too. One layer at a time.