"Sexually harassed?Lady, I haven't even started trying to seduce you yet."
"And you won't be starting," Ali shot back."I'm here for a story, not to be some lonely trucker's road conquest."
The laughter died abruptly, and Big Timber's expression turned dangerous."Road conquest?"His voice dropped to a growl that made every supernatural in the diner look up nervously."You think this is about scratching an itch?"
Before Ali could respond, he was moving.One moment she was sitting in her booth, and the next she was standing with her back pressed against the wall, caged between Big Timber's massive arms.He loomed over her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough to count the golden flecks in his dark eyes.
"I've been alone for twenty years," he said, his voice barely above a whisper but somehow more intense than if he'd shouted."Twenty years of telling myself I didn't need anyone, didn't want anyone.And then you walk into my world smelling like magic and wildflowers and everything I never knew I was missing."
Ali's breath caught at the raw honesty in his voice.She could feel his control hanging by a thread, could sense the barely leashed power in the way his muscles bunched and flexed as he fought to keep his hands braced against the wall instead of on her.
"Look," he said, his voice dropping to that commanding register again, "I've got a medical supply run that needs doing.Life or death situation for folks who can't get help anywhere else.You want a real story about supernatural truckers?This is it."
"What kind of medical supplies?"
"The kind corrupt sheriffs like to intercept for profit."His jaw tightened."The kind some people don't want reaching the communities that need them."
The bitter note in his voice made her think of her stepfather, Sheriff Cottonmouth, and his casual dismissal of anyone he deemed "unworthy of protection."She'd grown up watching him use his badge as a weapon against people who couldn't fight back.
"That's biology talking," she managed, though her voice came out breathier than she intended."Pheromones and supernatural instincts.It's not real."
"Feel real enough to me."Big Timber leaned closer, until his lips were almost brushing her ear."Question is, what are we gonna do about it?"
The heat in his voice sent shivers racing down her spine, and Ali had to grip the wall behind her to keep from melting into a puddle of want.This was insane.She'd known him for all of ten minutes, and her body was already convinced he was the answer to every fantasy she'd never admitted to having.
"We're going to act like adults," she said, proud of how steady her voice sounded despite the way her knees were threatening to give out."Which means you're going to step back and give me some space to think."
For a moment, she thought he might refuse.His eyes flashed with something primitive and possessive, and his body tensed like he was preparing to do something that would probably get them both arrested for public indecency.
Then he stepped back, his movements sharp and controlled."Fine.But we're still talking.And not here, where every supernatural in three counties can listen in."
"Where then?"
"My truck.Fifteen minutes."Big Timber's gaze raked over her from head to toe.His gaze tracked from her face to her hands, lingering on the camera strap across her shoulder, the way her fingers worried the lens cap."We'll discuss this medical supply run I mentioned.Among other things."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Ali pressed against the wall and trying to remember how to breathe normally.
"Honey," Bertha called from behind the counter, "you might want to powder your nose before you go out there.You look like you've been thoroughly claimed."
Ali caught her reflection in the diner's window and groaned.Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils were dilated, and her hair looked like she'd been running her fingers through it.She looked exactly like a woman who'd just been cornered by an aroused cryptid male and liked it way more than she should have.
"This is such a bad idea," she muttered, grabbing her camera bag.
"Best ones usually are," the banshee said with a knowing smile."Just remember—if you're gonna ride with Big Timber, you better be ready for the whole trip."
As Ali walked toward the door, she tried to ignore the way every eye in the place was tracking her movements.She was a professional photographer documenting supernatural truckers, not some romance novel heroine about to be swept away by a brooding alpha male.
Even if said alpha male did smell like every dirty dream she'd ever had and looked like he could bench press a building.
Outside, Big Timber was leaning against his massive truck, arms crossed over his chest in a way that made his flannel shirt strain across muscles that belonged in a fitness magazine.When he saw her approaching, his eyes heated with an intensity that made her wet.
"Ready to talk?"he asked, his voice carrying undertones that suggested talking was the last thing on his mind.
"Ready," Ali lied, and followed him toward what was probably either the best or worst decision of her life.
