Chapter Six
I KNOW YOU BLOCKED my number. You can't keep putting me off. Doing so just hurts both of us.
Ronan didn't even think twice about deleting the message and blocking yet another number. The past was finally in the past. But such a lesson had not come without costs, since it had taken weeks of deliberately staying away from Acacia for Ronan to get his head out of his ass and realize what truly mattered.
And that was her.
Tension turned him rigid behind the wheel of his black truck, fingers gripping the steering wheel a bit too hard as he watched Acacia struggle with the oversized trash bag.
The temperature had dropped to fifteen degrees that morning, and her breath materialized in small puffs of white mist as she hauled the garbage toward the dumpster behind Hartland Books.
It had been two weeks since she'd arrived in town. Two weeks since he'd watched her climb down from the bus at Laramie station, only to turn her back on him without a single word of goodbye. Two weeks of him keeping his distance while simultaneously ensuring he knew her every move.
This morning, she'd dressed more appropriately for the weather than when she first arrived—thick wool coat, knee-high boots, and a knitted beanie pulled over her red-gold hair—but the way she moved betrayed her discomfort with the cold. Miami- bred through and through. Acacia might as well have landed on another planet.
He smiled, remembering how she'd tried to de-ice her apartment door lock with hot water three days ago, only to create an even thicker sheet of ice when the water instantly froze. Or the time she'd stepped into a snow drift that was much deeper than it appeared, disappearing almost up to her waist with a shriek that had nearly made him blow his cover.
Yesterday, she'd worn leather-soled boots on her walk to work, and he'd watched from across the street as she performed an unintentional ice-skating routine down Main Street, arms pinwheeling wildly before she managed to grab onto a lamppost.
Every damn time, his heart had nearly stopped.
Miami to Hartland, Wyoming. The difference might as well be what divided heaven and hell, and Ronan had seen how it wasn't just the weather Acacia had originally struggled with.
He had also witnessed her bewilderment at the early closing times of local shops. Had noticed her confusion the first time she encountered Hartland's Wednesday tradition of "power conservation day," when businesses deliberately dimmed lights and limited electricity usage.
The confusion on her face when everyone in Redwood Cafe greeted each other by name. The way she'd frozen like a deer in headlights when Ethan's young wife Anah had invited her to join their book club. And the look of shock on her face when she realized that there truly were zero chances of connecting to the Internet while in town.
Acacia finished wrestling the trash into the dumpster and turned back toward the bookstore, brushing her gloved hands together. Ronan's eyes narrowed as he spotted the patch of black ice on the sidewalk directly in her path. Without thinking, he pushed open his truck door and was moving before his brain had fully formed the thought.
She didn't see it coming. Her right foot hit the ice and immediately slid forward while her left remained planted, creating a perfect split that would have been impressive if it hadn't been accidental.
She started to fall, but he caught her in time, and he felt her freeze as soon as her stunned gaze collided with his.
She was shocked.
He was aroused.
And as soon as Acacia became aware of his hardened state, she quickly pushed him away, and he reluctantly let her go.
She stared at him, her lip visibly trembling. Everything she felt was painted in the icy clarity of her bright blue eyes.
The recognition and relief.
The desire she couldn't quite hide.
And layered beneath it all, the unmistakable flash of frustration. She missed him but hated that she did. She was glad to see him but she also hated herself for this. Her mind wanted nothing to do with him, but her body desired everything about him.
"Hello again." He smiled at her, but she didn't smile back.
No matter.
The sexual tension between them was as explosive as ever, a living, breathing thing that seemed to create its own heat in the frigid Wyoming air.
"I can report you for stalking."
Ronan raised a brow, amused despite himself. "I'm only here to pick up a book I ordered."
Her eyes widened.
He gave it a few seconds.
And finally, understanding dawned.
"The Shakespeare first edition," she said stiffly. "That's yours?"
He showed her the receipt. "Taming of the Shrew," Ronan drawled. "Don't you think it's fitting?"
"No. I don't."
His gaze gleamed. "Just what a shrew would you say, don't you think?"
She sputtered, he chuckled.
Now this was the Acacia he knew...and missed so fucking bad.
"How have you been, darling?"
"I am not your darling."
"Did you miss me as much as I missed you?"
She glared at him. "NO."
"It's nice to know you haven't changed," Ronan said, his voice dropping an octave lower. "You still love lying to yourself even when you're bad at it."
She shot him a look that clearly said two words.
Drop dead.
He laughed, and she turned on her heel, marching back inside the bookshop without a word.
His smile faded as he watched her hips sway, and Ronan had to fight off the urge to haul her close, bend her over, and take her sweet ass from behind.
He wanted her, dammit.
More than ever.
His jaw clenched as he sought to regain control over his body, and by the time he joined her inside, it was to see Acacia punching keys on the computer like it was her enemy. It was clear she was in a hurry to give him the book and get rid of him.
Ronan came up to the counter, but her gaze remained fixed on the screen. "Are you aware you've got everyone curious about you?"
"There's nothing for them to be curious about. I keep to myself."
"And that's exactly why they're curious. Hartland's a small town. People tend to talk about people who don't."
"I just think it's polite to mind my own business." She handed him his package. "Thank you for doing business with us. Goodbye."
He caught her wrist before she could turn away.
"Let go!"
"Have lunch with me."
"No."
"Dinner? Breakfast?"
"Never."
"Why aren't you willing to trust me even just a little? At least give me that much." A part of him expected her to brush the question off...only to have that part proved wrong when she actually answered him with the truth.
"Because the last time I trusted someone, it cost me everything."
Fuck.
"So if you don't mind—-just stay away from me. And if it makes any difference, I'll say it the way you want me to." She looked at him with eyes that were suddenly opaque, and his chest clenched. "Please stay away from me. Please, Ronan. Please."