I shrug, not wanting to fight. Or to talk for that matter.
I nod toward another loose spot in the wire, squeeze my legs, sending Tempest in that direction. We work in silence now, so close I can feel the heat of her skin.
The pulse point at her neck quivers, breath coming faster as I work the tightener to give her more traction. She drives another staple into the post. “Tighter.”
I oblige, pulling until the post shifts but still holding back. The last thing she needs is to know my strength. The full force of it.
“No offense, but when’s the last time you had a cut and shave?” She eyes me, her pupils blown.
My gaze drops to her lips. Can’t help myself. Another hum vibrates through me, turning flesh to tone. “Hard to find a good barber around here.”
She cocks her head to the side, surveying me slowly. “I could maybe help with that.”
My forehead furrows. “A shave and a cut? Are you out of your mind?”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“It’s not that. It’s just I have a particular way I like things done. With a straight razor blade. Think you can handle that?”
“Well, I do shave my legs,” she says.
Her words nudge me back into the right century. Yes, leg shaving. I try, but my mind still wanders…. to rough palms, soft flesh, and the kind of curves you could build a temple around.
I look away, swallowing hard. “Am I that scruffy? That you need to clean me up like a stray dog.”
A mischievous smile captures her lips. “Bring you into the present century is all.”
Makes me wonder how much Mags has told her.
Her eyes snag on the collar of my shirt. “Hand stitched. Wow.”
“There a dress code here I don’t know about?” I lean closer. Can’t help myself.
Another pulse rips through me, somehow softer, easier to bear at this proximity. Though I know she’s the spark to my affliction.
Her hot breath is on my cheek, her eyes dancing to mine. “No. Just trying to figure you out.”
She drives in another staple, and I step back. Twice.
Can’t do this.
Can’t stay so close. Even if it feels like finding water after a day in full sun.
“First and last mistake,” I murmur, heart still thumping somewhere in my throat. God, the mountain makes my blood sing today. I refuse to entertain the alternative.
That it’sher. That it’sthisproximity.
I pace toward Tempest, trying to push the need from my mind. But it gnaws at the edges of my logic. Sharp. Persistent. “Gonna sleep under the stars tonight. Only way to solve your mystery with the bull… and the crops.”
“Been doing that for three nights. Any closer to answers?”
I grunt.
“Maybe one of these nights I’ll camp out with you.”
“God, no.”
Her eyes round, her forehead twisting. “Why not? It’s my land. My herd.”
