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SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA JUMP
LILAH
“It’s not worth it.” I twist at the sound of the gruff voice that interrupts my killer view of Sunset Falls, to see a man I’ve yet to meet but recognize on the spot as Briggs Alder. “Whatever it is, it’s never worth it.”
My eyes flick over him to the horse he rides. It’s brown and beautiful, shining red like the falls under the glow of the setting sun. I know there’s a name for this kind of horse, but I never could be bothered to learn. Sue me. Dad’s opinion of the beautiful beasts being expensive crowbait got passed down. Besides, a girl facing my finances has absolutely no business drooling over a horse, no matter how beautiful it may be. Some things just aren’t in the cards for some souls.
I’m some souls.
I turn back to the view I’d been appreciating, butthis time I’m scowling. I don’t know what Briggs Alder is on about, and right now I can’t say I care. I came here for peace, and he’s putting a kink in it.
“Hey!” A rustle of movement precedes the sound of booted feet thudding to the earth. But it’s the surge of fear that clips the rough timbre of his tone that has me turning back around.
His eyes—wide and green, I realize—land on my scowl. He holds his hands between us, palms up. They’re big hands, I note. A little rougher than I anticipated, considering the rumors around town about him.
My eyes drop to the boot covered foot he slides cautiously closer to me. I feel my scowl dip into a puzzled frown.What is he…?
“Come here.” He beckons me closer as he takes another cautious boot-slide toward me. “Just—just come here.”
Realization dawns and my jaw drops. I take a quick step back that has the blood rushing from Briggs’ face as he freezes. The guy looks like he’s about to suffer a colon cleanse which—maybe wouldn’t be the worst of fates. He does seem a bit…backed up?Again, I’m basing this on town tongue wagging, so I can’t be held entirely responsible for the level of accuracy of such a claim. But seriously, the guy doesn’t have a shred of chill.
I lift my jaw to pucker my lips in a moment of thought. Green eyes lined in black lashes—damn, it’s almost criminal that lashes like his be wasted on aman. Women across the globe pay big dollars for what I’m confident he doesn’t know he has.
Anyway, those green eyes surrounded by thick black lashes snap to the hands I plop on my hips with all the rightful sass of an incensed woman.
“You think I’m suicidal?” His cheeks redden under my hot accusation. I can’t help but note that the red, along with the pretty eyes that wing up to mine, soften the otherwise impossibly hard features of his face. He says nothing, so I push, “You do, don’t you?”
He flips off his cowboy hat—suspiciously worn even as it’s obviously cared for, again, considering town gossip. If the tongue wagging has any merit, Briggs Alder isn’t the cowboy type. More the tycoon type. The type to bring a wrecking ball of change no one in Sunset Falls wants as he sits behind a sprawling desk that looks down over the town. Never getting his soft hands dirty.
But they aren’t soft, are they?
And he’d sure seemed comfortable up on that horse. Would a man who was all tycoon be as comfortable on horseback as Briggs? More, would a man rumored to be as cutthroat as this man be in possession of an obviously well-loved, weathered-by-life, cowboy hat?
He runs one big hand through hair that is dark—not black, but not far from it. It’s curled just enough to hint at a side of sweet I figure most don’t see. He tipsthe hat back onto his head. In that same softly rough tone that first interrupted the chaotic mess of my life contemplations, he says, “You’re standing on the edge of a cliff looking like?—”
“Like what?” I tip my head to the side, making a show of my impatience. I tap my toes in my flip flop.
He sighs heavenward, and twin flames of red paint his cut cheekbones as he shakes his head.Damn if he isn’t just a little bit adorable.
He smothers the adorable thought when he mutters, “Like a god damned kicked puppy.”
I flinch.Ouch.
“I look like akicked puppy?” Dang, and here I thought I looked cute when I did my triple-check in the mirror this morning. Cut-off jean shorts and a pink top with the cutest little ruffle at the hem, the outfit should have been a winner. I even curled my hair—yesterday, but I digress.
I donotlook like a kicked puppy.
The man plants his feet as he puts his hands on his hips. He rolls broad shoulders back and mutters, “Well, you don’t look happy.”
“I don’t know a single woman who would look happy at being told she looks like a kicked animal.” I huff a bitter laugh that could have been described as just a touch unhinged. “No wonder you’re single.”
His eyes snap to mine at the comment, one brow arched. He ignores my dig. “Well, are you?” He juts hischin to the cliff, and I instantly pick up on the words unsaid.
My hands fall with my shoulders, and I let my head roll back on a groan of disbelief. “I can’t believe you, right now.”
“Hell, woman, I’m out for a ride minding my own when I see you leaning over that cliff like you’re about to fling yourself over it. Tell me what I should have done?”
