"Please don't. She's my only source of Dean McKnight intel." She grins. "Did you really build all the furniture in the guest cabin?"
"Most of it." I gesture at the table between us. "This too."
Her fingers trail along the wood grain, and I imagine those fingers on my skin instead. "It's beautiful. You're full of surprises, mountain man."
"Speaking of surprises," I desperately need to change the subject before I do something stupid, "how's Professor Waddles adjusting to cabin life?"
Her startled laugh is worth the hit to my dignity. "Did you just make another joke? That's two in one night. Should I be worried?"
"Deflection noted."
"Fine." She sits back, eyes sparkling. "He's settling in nicely. Says the view is excellent and the company isn't bad either."
"High praise from a professor."
"He's very discerning." She takes another sip of wine, watching me over the rim. "Usually takes him weeks to warm up to people."
"And how long does it take his owner?"
The words hang between us, charged with meaning. Harper sets down her glass slowly, deliberately.
"Depends," she says softly. "On the person."
On you, her eyes say. It all depends on you.
Chapter 7
Harper
The fire casts dancing shadows across Dean's face as he adds another log, his movements precise and practiced. I curl deeper into the corner of the couch, wine glass forgotten on the coffee table, watching the play of firelight on his shoulders.
"Cold?" His voice is low, rough around the edges.
"No." The answer comes too quickly, too breathless. The truth is, I'm burning up, but not from the fire.
He settles on the other end of the couch, careful to maintain distance between us. Always so careful. Every move calculated to protect me – from the storm, from gossip, from himself.
"Tell me about your book," he says, surprising me. "The one you're writing."
Heat creeps into my cheeks that has nothing to do with wine or flames. "It's silly."
"Try me."
I study his profile, the strong line of his jaw, the way his eyes reflect golden in the firelight. "It's about a woman who runs away to start over. Finds herself in a small town, trying to build a new life."
His mouth quirks. "Sounds familiar."
"Pure coincidence," I say, but we both know better. "Anyway, she meets someone unexpected. Someone who challenges everything she thought she knew about love."
"And does she?" His voice drops lower. "Find love?"
"I haven't written that part yet." My heart pounds so loud I'm sure he can hear it. "Still figuring out if she's brave enough to try again."
"And the man?" Dean turns to face me fully, and the intensity in his eyes steals my breath. "Is he worthy of her trust?"
"He thinks he isn't." The words come without thought, pure instinct. "He's spent so long alone, convinced himself he's better that way. But when he looks at her..."
"How does he look at her?"
