“His wouldn’t start. Probably water in the tank. We were going to stop at Harvey’s for a can of dry gas.”
“Don’t you find any of this suspicious?” Her interrogative tone makes my arm hairs stand on end.
“Nooo… It’s below zero. My car is old. The electronics caught fire which caused the gas tank to explode. No conspiracy, just an accident.” No point in worrying her until we have the full forensic analysis.
“Well, if you want my advice, send the city boy packing. If you won’t do it, I will.” She steps so far out of her lane, I roll my eyes.
“Yes, Mother.” Hanging up, I scrunch my nose and stretch. Why does everyone think they should butt into my business?
By now, the town grapevine has declared me dead. Either that, or I’ve shaved my head, becoming an extremist tree hugger.
Not wanting him to worry, I text my brother.
Me: Had a car accident. I’m fine.
Kade: Call me. Now.
Heart racing, I speed dial my brother. “Is Mack okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. Sleeping.” His surprised tone only serves to piss me off more.
“Do not scare me like that.”
“Hello, Kettle. I’m Pot.”
“Oh, shut up. What do you want?”
It takes me over an hour to explain my night. Unlike Joe and Gina, Kade asks pointed questions.
When done, I confess, “I’m quite sure my car was sabotaged.”
“Dammit, Kell. You need to be more careful. Are you armed?”
“Yeah, of course. Listen, the nurse is coming, I need to go.” The white lie slips off my tongue as I add it to the growing list.
I wave my badge at the nurse’s station, then pause at the G-man’s door. What do you even say to the hero who risked his life to save yours? Taking a deep breath, I push the door open and gasp.
Jack, AKA Hunt, sleeps on his stomach wearing a hospital gown, his muscled ass on full display.
Holy crap, girl, get a grip.
Forcing my gaze on the angry, burnt skin, I clear my throat. “Hey, Mr. Wildlife, what did the doc say?”
Turning his head, he blinks twice. He doesn’t try to cover his naked backside. “Surprisingly, it’s not much worse than a sunburn. Turning into the snow probably saved my hide, literally. They gave me some antibiotic lotion for a few of the worst spots. Otherwise, they should let me out in the morning.”
“Uh… Great news.” Unable to form a coherent sentence, my breath hitches. For the first time since The Incident, my libido roars to life.
No doubt a connoisseur of women, he reads my body language as if tasting a fine wine. Unlike my gender, his attraction jumps to life. Shifting to a seated position, he spreads his legs.
When he holds out his arms, I could run, but what would be the point? He’s a tractor beam to my disabled shuttlecraft. I’m pulled into his grasp where I inhale a mix of pine and burnt hair.
Careful not to touch his back, I snuggle closer.
With both hands on his chest, my palms tingle at his rapid heartbeat. Once our gazes connect, we kiss like two people who narrowly avoided death. Turning, I lock the door, not about to miss this opportunity to make myself whole.
His eyes widen as I unbutton my uniform top before ducking out of my thermal undershirt. When my bra drops to the floor, his jaw does, too.
As I’m about to step into his embrace, the door handle jiggles, and a woman says, “I have your release papers, Mr. Gurion.”
