Chapter 4 #3
He reaches me with enough enthusiasm to nearly knock me over, jumping up to plant his paws on my chest while his tail whips back and forth in pure joy. His leash is muddy and frayed at the end, like he pulled free from wherever Luke had tied him.
“Hey, boy,” I laugh, scratching behind his ears. “What are you doing running around loose? You’re going to get lost.”
Max drops back to all fours but stays pressed against my legs, panting happily. I grab his leash and look around, but there’s no sign of Luke anywhere.
I don’t know where Luke lives now, but maybe Sam, or my parents, would know. I could walk back home and ask—
I decide to head back that way, but when I reach the house, everyone has already left for the coffee shop.
I look down at Max, who’s sitting patiently at my feet, his pink tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Well, buddy, I guess you’re going to have to show me the way home.”
Max tilts his head at me, then suddenly takes off down the street, pulling me along behind him. He seems to know exactly where he’s going, trotting with purpose down Elm Street, then turning onto a gravel road that leads into the woods.
The path winds through the forest for what feels like miles, climbing steadily uphill through groves of maple and oak.
Max trots ahead confidently, occasionally looking back to make sure I’m following.
The silence of the woods is broken only by the crunch of leaves under our feet and the distant sound of a chainsaw somewhere up ahead.
When we finally emerge into a clearing, I stop dead in my tracks.
The log cabin sitting in the middle of the meadow is beautiful—rustic but well-maintained, with a wraparound porch and large windows that reflect the morning sunlight. But it’s not the house that makes my breath catch.
It’s the location.
This is the Harrison family estate. The land that Luke’s uncle stole after his parents died. I knew Luke was fighting to get it back when I left town, but I didn’t know he’d actually succeeded.
I remember this clearing from when Sam and I were kids, though I’d only been here a handful of times—usually tagging along when Sam came to hang out with Luke. The view of the mountains in the distance is exactly as I remember it, though the house is completely new.
A sharp bark from inside the cabin draws my attention. Scout’s nose is pressed against the window, his tail wagging frantically as he sees Max and me approaching.
That’s when footsteps behind me catch my attention.
I turn around and immediately lose the ability to speak.
Luke is walking out from behind the cabin, and he’s completely shirtless.
His chest is broad and defined, glistening with sweat, his jeans hanging low on his hips.
His dark hair is damp and sticking to his forehead, and there’s a light sheen of perspiration covering his skin that makes it impossible to look away.
He’s not the twenty-one-year-old I left behind. This is a man—all lean muscle and confidence and raw masculinity that has my breath catching.
“Hazel?” His voice snaps me out of my trance. “What are you doing here?”
I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. “Your dog escaped.”
Luke’s gaze drops to Max, who’s sitting at my feet looking pleased with himself. “Did he now?”
“I found him running loose on Elm Street.” I hold up the muddy leash as evidence. “I figured I should bring him back before he got lost.”
“That was nice of you.” Luke starts walking toward me, and I have to force myself not to take a step back. This close, I can see the way his muscles move under his skin, can smell the combination of sweat and pine and something uniquely him. “Thanks.”
“What were you doing?” The question comes out breathier than I intended.
“Clearing some trees off the access road. Storm knocked a couple down a few nights ago.” He runs a hand through his damp hair, the gesture doing nothing to help my composure.
“I was out for a jog first, then saw the trees blocking the road. Figured I might as well take care of it while I was already sweating.”
The way he says ‘sweating’ makes heat pool low in my stomach. I clear my throat and try to focus on something other than the way his abs contract when he moves.
“Shirtless?” I manage.
A grin spreads across his face—slow, dangerous, and completely aware of the effect he’s having on me. “Does that bother you?”
“I don’t care what you do or don’t wear,” I say quickly, but my voice lacks conviction.
“Uh-huh.” His grin widens. “Sure about that?”
The space between us seems to shrink, though neither of us moved. Heat radiates from his skin, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His blue eyes are locked on mine, dark with something that makes my pulse race.
“I should go,” I whisper, but I don’t move.
“Should you?” His voice is rough, low.
He takes a step closer, and suddenly we’re standing so close his breath feathers across my face. The rational part of my brain is screaming at me to step back, to remember all the reasons this is a bad idea. But my body isn’t listening to my brain.
“Hazel.” My name on his lips sounds like a prayer and a curse all at once.
His hand comes up to cup my face, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone. My eyes flutter closed at the contact, and I involuntarily make a soft sound that’s part sigh, part surrender.
When I open my eyes, his face is inches from mine. The flecks of green in his blue eyes are still there; I can count the dark lashes that frame them. His gaze drops to my lips, and every nerve ending in my body catches fire.
We’re going to kiss. Right here, right now, despite everything that’s happened between us. Despite all the hurt and the years and the walls I’ve built around my heart.
I want him to kiss me.
That realization hits me like cold water, and I jerk back, stumbling in my haste to put distance between us.
“I have to go,” I gasp, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Luke’s hand drops to his side, his expression shifting from heated to something more careful. “Of course you do.”
The words aren’t harsh, but there’s something resigned in his voice that makes my chest ache. I don’t trust myself to stay. Not when every cell in my body is screaming at me to close the gap between us again.
“I have to help my parents with the morning rush," I say, defending myself as I back toward the path. "I'll see you at two.”
“Yeah.” His voice is quiet now, thoughtful. “See you at two.”
I turn and practically run back down the path, my cheeks burning with embarrassment and something else I don’t want to name. Behind me, Max barks once, then his boots hit the porch.
By the time I reach the main road, my heart is still racing and my hands are shaking. I press my palms against my burning cheeks, trying to center myself.
What the hell just happened?