Chapter 32 Rose
ROSE
My stomach knotted as I turned onto my driveway, a feeling that was becoming habit over the last few days. My eyes skirted the darkening woods around me, a sunless dusk that looked more like twilight.
True to Stan the Weatherman’s prediction, the temperature had reached almost seventy that day, making the atmosphere ideal for severe weather. There was an electricity, an energy in the air that had more to do with the pending thunderstorms.
You could feel it in your skin. But the charge in the atmosphere wasn’t only from the pending thunderheads. It was something else.
Him.
The kiss. I was restless. Tight-wired. Off-center.
The moment Phoenix had walked out of my office, I’d spent ten full minutes just breathing, trying to calm the wild thrum of my heart. And trying even harder not to run after him and drag him back in by the collar.
Because it hadn’t been just a kiss. It had been the kind of kiss that rewired your brain. That pulled secrets from your bones. The kind of kiss that changed things.
That meant something.
And that terrified me.
It wasn’t just the fact that it crossed a professional line—though it did. It was the weight behind it. The magnetic pull that told me this was bigger than chemistry.
It felt like a beginning. A dangerous one.
And now, going home to an empty house only made everything worse.
Phoenix had been right—I needed better locks, floodlights, maybe even a firearm. But where did I even start? The police still hadn’t given me an update on the bear or the recorder. No word on whether Andrew’s murder had anything to do with the stranger invading my home and my sanity.
They’d called it a robbery gone wrong. But Phoenix didn’t believe that. And somewhere deep down… neither did I.
My stalker wasn’t just threatening my safety. They were unraveling my independence, one boundary at a time. And I hated that.
It made me think of Phoenix—what it must feel like to have your autonomy ripped from you, piece by piece.
I’m not the only one with trauma in this room.
His words had looped in my mind all day, like a slow-moving storm I couldn’t outrun. He had no idea how right he was. And no idea how much of myself I’d buried to survive.
I rolled to a stop beneath the carport, cut the engine, and sat still for a moment—listening.
Then, suddenly, floodlights flared to life. All around me. One after another. A soft, golden glow illuminated the carport and the path to the front door—not harsh, not blinding.
Just… safe.
Phoenix.
A slow smile tugged at my lips as I glanced over my shoulder, half expecting to see him there, leaning against the shadows with that impossible gaze.
Had he done this?
I grabbed my purse, briefcase, and the empty coffee mug I’d clung to all day, and stepped out into the crisp air. The wind brushed past me as I looked around—no car, no tracks, no sign of him.
But it felt like him. I knew was responsible for the floodlights—and for making me fall even harder.
The house was dark when I stepped inside. I flicked on the entry light and set everything down on the hall table. My gaze swept the space automatically, but everything was exactly as I’d left it.
The quiet pulsed in my ears as I crossed the living room, flipping on lamps and the television just to fill the space. The muted chatter of the local news trailed behind me, ignored, as I made my way into the kitchen—straight to the liquor cabinet.
I’d just poured a glass of wine when—
Whack!
My body jolted, sloshing wine on my white blouse.
Another whack… then another.
Startled, I looked toward the sound to the windows that looked out to the backyard.
Another whack.
Wine in hand, I padded into the living room and peered through curtains I’d drawn before leaving that morning.
My heart fell to my feet.
Standing at the base of my backyard, lit by floodlights that had apparently been installed above the back deck, stood Phoenix, as tall and thick as the trees around him, with an axe in his hand and a massive pine tree at his feet. The exact dead tree that he was worried would fall on my house.
Sweat shimmered off of his tanned forehead and thick arms, his grey T-shirt clinging to his body like paint.
And below that, tight-fitting Levi’s and combat boots to complete the bad boy outdoorsman fantasy.
As if that weren’t sexy enough, a magnificent white horse stood on the other side of the tree, saddled, with its reins dropping below its cute little nose.
The man had ridden to my house on his white horse.
White horse.
Knight in shining armor. Check.
I watched him as he raised the axe, his muscles flexing against thin cotton that was stretched to the seams, then swing it down with a speed and control that told me it wasn’t the first tree he’d chopped down.
Saliva pooled in my mouth, heat warmed between my legs. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever laid eyes on—kiss or no kiss earlier.
He stilled, sensing me. It was a weird sixth sense we somehow already had with each other. He straightened, looked over his shoulder, and met my gaze.
Butterflies burst in my stomach.
The corner of his lip curled.
What are you doing, I mouthed through the window, cheeks blushing.
He jerked his chin to the tree.
I laughed and shook my head. I held up a finger—one minute—then darted to my bathroom like a lovesick schoolgirl.
After stripping off my work clothes, I searched the closet for longer than I cared to admit, then settled on a fitted T-shirt that said ‘I-didn’t-try-too-hard-but-look-at-my-curves,’ a pair of skinny jeans, and pull-on boots.
After smoothing my hair, I dabbed on some lip gloss and a touch of French perfume behind the ear—the good stuff I saved for special occasions.
That’s when I knew I had it bad.
I grabbed a bottle of water then jogged down the steps of my back deck.
“What the heck are you doing?” I couldn’t fight the smile as I jogged across the yard.
“Supposed to get bad storms tomorrow. Hurricane force winds. This tree would have been in your living room.”
His smile reached his eyes as he looked down at me. He was happy to see me, but there was something else, too. Heat. His gaze lingered, searching my face, making my heart skip a beat.
I handed him the water. “Sounds like I owe you a thank you then.”
“You owe me a new axe.”
“Done.” I shifted my attention to the gleaming white horse beside us. “Who is this beauty?”
“Her name’s Spirit.” The pride was evident in his voice.
“Hi there, Spirit.” I stroked her ink-black mane and she nestled into my shoulder.
“She likes you. She’s skittish around people she doesn’t know.”
“She’s beautiful.” I held her snout. “You’re beautiful, baby girl.” I turned to Phoenix. “I think I have some carrots if she’s hungry?”
He laughed at this. “She’s all filled up on carrots and apples for now.”
“What? Horses don’t eat carrots and apples?”
“Mainly in the cartoons.”
“I bet it’s a better dinner than hay.”
Spirit snorted.
“See?” I rubbed her snout.
Phoenix smiled, his eyes twinkling in a way I’d never seen before. A real, genuine smile. It was spectacular. Stunning, and it sent my pulse beating a bit faster.
I looked at the half-chopped tree in my backyard.
“Have you been here since after our appointment this afternoon?”
“Made a stop first.” That lingering look, again.
I cocked my head. “You okay?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“On how this evening goes.”
“Sounds loaded.”
“Could be.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not in the mood for mind games right now.”
“Ironic, considering that’s your job.” He winked.
I rolled my eyes and turned to the woodpile, pretending not to notice the heat building between us, or how much I craved that damn mouth on mine again.
“You’ve done too much. Really, thank you. Seriously.” I looked back at him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He nodded toward the house where a huge stack of wood leaned against the brick. “It’ll take some time to get the rest of this chopped up but you’ve got enough to last you for the next few cold nights. And, yes, each piece is cut in the exact same dimensions, and stacked in perfect symmetry.”
I slapped his arm. “I’m not that neurotic.”
“I noticed there were no logs inside yesterday.” Of course he’d noticed. “Where’s your current stack?”
“Current stack of what?”
“Newspapers. Wood, Rose, where’s your current stack of wood?”
“Oh. Well, I’ve, ah, never used the fireplace.”
He looked at me as if I’d sprouted wings.
“Have you ever built a fire at all?”
I cleared my throat. “No.”
His eyelids flittered in the closest thing to an eye roll without actually being an eye roll. He turned and took off up the hill.
“Follow me.”
My pleasure.
When we reached the wood pile, he stacked two logs in my arms, then filled his own.
“Walk next to me.”
We fell in step together up the hill.
I glanced over my shoulder. “What about Spirit?”
“She’s fine.”
“Did you tie her to a tree?”
“Don’t need to.”
He ushered me to go ahead of him at the door. The house was all lit up, with the hint of my perfume in the air when we stepped inside. Such a different feeling than when I’d walked in minutes earlier. This time, I felt light on my feet. Happy, even.
Safe.
I started across the living room, and when I noticed he wasn’t following me, I turned to see him frozen in the doorway.
“What?”
He glanced down at his muddy boots and pants covered with wood shavings.
I laughed. “Come in. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
And shockingly, it was.
We met at the fireplace. He knelt beside me and took the logs from my arms, his hands brushing mine. The contact was brief—but full of promise.
“Ready for your lesson, Rose Flower?”
His voice was low, intimate. The nickname sent heat pooling deep in my belly.
“I’m ready. Show me what you’ve got.”
He arched a brow, catching the innuendo. I didn’t look away.
The tension between us crackled louder than the fire we were about to build.
“This is no joke, Rose.”
“Sheesh. Okay.”
“You need to know how to start a fire, especially living alone. We’re supposed to get severe weather tomorrow, that’s going to bring another cold snap. What was your plan if your electricity went out?”
“I have flashlights.”
“And how large an area do your dollar-store flashlights heat?”
I sucked in a breath. “Oh. You meant for heat. Okay. Got it. I understand. Fine. Teach me, Obi Wan Kenobi.”
He didn’t laugh. He was busy placing kindling in the box. Serious business, apparently.
“Let’s begin.” He rolled up his sleeves, revealing those forearms again, and I had to look away before I did something reckless—again.
“First and foremost, every few years you need to have your chimney inspected and cleaned by a professional. Or me.” He winked again and it was the first time I was seeing a lighter Phoenix.
A relaxed Phoenix. One with less stress, less weight on his shoulders.
He was in his element, and I hoped, even for a minute, that he’d forgotten about his troubles.
He continued, “Over time creosote builds up, which can cause a chimney fire. Not good. Very important to have it inspected.” He turned to me. “Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
He grinned. “Good girl.”
I almost jumped him right then.
“Now. Considering you renovated the place recently, I’m assuming your builder checked the chimney so we’re going to cross that off. Next,” he reached around me and flicked open a little vent on the side of the box. “Always open the damper so smoke doesn’t fill your living room.”
I’d like to open your damper…
Instead, I said, “got it.”
“Now to starting the actual fire. Many amateurs do the ‘top down’ method. Big logs on bottom, smaller on top, bada bing. But considering you’re a doctor, I think we can skip over the easy way.”
I narrowed my eyes.
Another wink. “I’m going to show you the ‘log cabin’ method. Grab two of the logs that I’ve removed the bark from, and put them on the grate about six inches apart.”
Apparently, this was a teach-a-man-to-fish-scenario. Okay, then.
“Good, next, grab the twigs, we call them kindling, and place them between.” He looked around. “We need…” He reached back and pulled a magazine from my coffee table.
“Hey. That’s my Vogue.”
“You’ll get another next month.”
I cringed as he shredded the glossy, perfumed pages, rolling them into tight little wands.
“Add these to the kindling. Then, grab two more logs, and stack those perpendicular on the bottom two. Next, two more on top, the other way.”
I did as I was told.
“It looks like a little log cabin.”
“Nothing gets past you. Now,” he pulled a lighter from his pocket and handed it to me. “Light the kindling.”
“You always carry a lighter in your pocket?”
“Yeah.”
Five minutes later, the fire was roaring and my confidence was growing. I was actually having fun.
“See?” He said. “Not so hard is it?”
“Not with you helping out.”
“Exactly.” He sat back on his haunches and focused on me. “Next up, I’ll show you how to work the security system I’m going to install.”
He brushed off his hands and stood, looking out the window. “Got a bit more light left. I’m going to make another dent in the tree. My brother’s dropping off a chainsaw in a minute.”
I stood, disappointed that our time in close proximity was over. “Thank you. For everything.”
“I’ll get the rest of it taken care of this weekend.”
“How can I pay you?”
He took a step closer and my heart skipped a beat. “I’ve got plenty of money, Rose.”
“What will you take as payment, then?” I whispered, stepping even closer, practically begging him to kiss me again.
He leaned down, his lips barely grazing past my lips, blazing a trail against my cheek. Goosebumps rippled as his whisper tickled my ear.
“I want you to never see Josh Davis again.”
Warm, soft lips met my ear lobe, not a kiss, but an erotic touch, a hypnotic foreplay to something I realized I wanted more than anything in the world.
“… Done,” I whispered back, stunned by the sheer need in my voice.
He pulled back slowly, his eyes locked on mine. My whole body was trembling. Wanting.
“Be right back.” He smirked—arrogant and smug and devastatingly sexy.
And then he walked out the door, taking all that heat, all that energy, all that possibility with him.
My protection. My peace of mind.
My… what?
I plucked the wine glass from the counter and watched him ride down the driveway on his big, white horse to meet his brother.
Phoenix Steele, my patient.
My knight in shining armor.
My weakness.
The last of the porch light caught his face as he turned and locked eyes with me.
A smile crossed my lips. A desperate need crossed my body.
He winked, then faded into the darkness.
And I knew, at that moment, I was falling madly in love with Phoenix Steele.
I knew I was in trouble.
I just didn’t realize, at the time, exactly how much.