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“I don’t need it,” I say, holding my chin up definitely.

He rolls his eyes. “Would you take it if I tell you I can see through your shirt?”

Startled, I glance down. And gasp. My white tee and bralette are utterly soaked through, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Horrified that I’ve been in this state the entire time, I clamp my mouth shut, feeling my face redden.

The entire time I was walking around in the rain, the entire time we’d been in here fighting, me trying to regain my lost sense of dignity—and Cruz had had a completely unobstructed view of my breasts the whole time?

Taking my silence as compliance, Cruz settles his jacket over my shoulders. I wordlessly tugit around my torso, covering myself—and actually feeling a bit warmer.

“Sit down,” he says gruffly, pointing to a bale of hay nearby. And while it doesn’t look like the most comfortable thing in the world, it makes me realize how tired my legs are.

I sit, feeling the weariness of the day settling in on me. Cruz sits next to me, although with plenty of space between us. Probably doesn’t want to catch city-girl-cooties.

“Look, you don’t have to like me,” he mutters after a beat. “But my boss has entrusted your safety to me. And I’d like to stay on my boss’s good side. It’s that simple.”

I feel myself bristling at the insinuation that I’m nothing more than a chore. An inconvenient one, at that. It brings all my insecurities rushing to the surface. I’ve never been anything other than a burden. Never living up.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be getting lost again,” I snap, and it’s more of a promise to myself than to him.

He grunts in response, like he doesn’t believe me.

I pull his jacket tighter around me, still mortified by the idea of him having been able to see my breasts this whole time. To his credit, thinking back on it, he seemed to maintain pretty good eye contact with me. Which actually might be more embarrassing. He’s probably not attracted to me—even with my tits out.

That’s great for my self-esteem.

“You hungry?” he asks from beside me.

I simply turn and look at him. Yes, I am, but it’s not like there’s a restaurant in this barn. He sighs and gets up, striding across the barn to his horse. He reaches into the saddlebag, grabbing a plastic bag, which he carries over.

Then he pulls out two sandwiches wrapped in plastic wrap. They look a bit smushed, but edible. He hands one to me and then wordlessly sits down and begins eating his.

I stare at it for a few seconds. “You brought these?”

He nods. “Hank made me bring you lunch since he figured you wouldn’t want to walk in the rain—cut to Tate and I realizing you were out on a hike and then me riding off to find you.”

The sequence of events makes sense.

I have the sudden urge to thank him. If only for the sandwich. But something about that feels like giving in. Like admitting that I’m the problem. That I don’t belong here.

Or anywhere.

So instead, I simply eat my sandwich in silence.

Chapter 6

Cruz

Despite the fact that she is now safely tucked away in her cabin, I still spend the rest of the day thinking about Addison. How she’d looked so small out there on the trails—drenched and shivering. Walking so confidently in the wrong direction. It would be funny if it wasn’t so dangerous.

What if I hadn’t agreed to bring her lunch? What if no one had realized she was lost? She could have been up there for hours. In the rain. And by the fact that she had so unquestionably decided to just keep on walking through the storm, I doubt she would have had the good sense to hide or avoid open fields when lightning struck.

And that stupid attitude of hers. Glaring at me like I’d come up there to scold her rather than help her. Sure, I may have scolded her a little—but she deserved it. What the hell was she thinking?

And then there’s the image I can’t get out of my mind. Addison in her thoroughly soaked white t-shirt,everythingfully visible. I’m a gentleman. I truly wasn’t going to say anything about her state—until she dug her heels in again on something so utterly stupid and inane …

I force myself to take a breath, pausing in my work to focus. I only have a few tasks to finish up in the barn before heading to the mess hall for dinner. What is it about this woman that just drives me crazy? I’ve dealt with difficult people before.

Well, maybe not quite as difficult as Addison.