That old work truck was my first restoration project, and it made us fast friends. We talked about everything from cars to cattle to men. She even tried to set me up with the youngest of her eight sons once. I let her give him my number but luckily, he was already engaged to a woman up in Colorado.
I love Delilah but I do not want to be a rancher’s wife.
Boone became a mail order groom, a concept I thought was outdated and ridiculous at the time. But when I had nowhere else to go, I remembered the company he used and the small town high in the Viridian Mountains he moved to that has more men than women. I remember his mother gushing about his happiness when he and his bride came to visit a month later.
“Never happier,” she said.
I was already on the road before I filled out the application for Pearl’s, but once my identity was verified, I set my location preference to Crescent Ridge and luck was on my side when I matched with Carter so quickly.
If only we were an actual match and not some stupid prank his friend pulled behind his back.
Following him across the yard, my gaze traces the broad line of his shoulders and the way his worn t-shirt stretches tight across a muscled back that looks strong enough to carry me without breaking a sweat. His arms are thick, corded with veins from years of hard labor, and when he glances back at me, those dark green eyes darken further, like he can feel me staring.
Heat pools low in my belly. God, he’s huge, tall, powerful, and every inch the kind of man who could pin me down and take exactly what he wants in the best way. The thought should scare me. Instead, my nipples tighten against my damp tank top and a slick ache blooms between my thighs.
I’ve never reacted to a man this fast. This desperately.
“Is there really only one coffee shop in town?” I ask in an attempt to cut through the awkward tension bubbling up between us.
“Bean There,” Carter says with a nod. His deep, gravel-rough voice alone sends a shiver straight to my clit. “But the bookstore sells tea too.”
“Bleh,” I groan before I can stop myself.
His laughter catches me off guard. It’s loud and deep and the rumbling vibration makes me ache. I’ve never been good at dating. I’d rather spend my time covered in grease, working on old cars than trying to decipher body language. But for a man like him? I’d drop everything.
“It’s awful,” he agrees. “But don’t tell Cole. His wife is the owner.”
His casual comment abruptly brings me back to reality. I’m not going to meet Cole or his wife. I’m not going to stop at the coffee shop or the bookstore unless it’s on my way out of town.
I can’t stay here. This giant lumberjack didn’t sign up for a wife and he sure as hell doesn’t want one.
He’s just being considerate by leading me away from his friends so he can break the news to me gently and send me on my way.
My eyes burn as we walk over to the line of square bodied trucks I parked next to. Working with gruff mechanics who think a Sports Illustrated calendar is wall art, I’m not used to anyone treating me like I’m fragile.
“Are there any apartments in town who wouldn’t run a background check?” I ask.
His dark blonde eyebrow jumps up.
“I’m not a criminal,” I rush to add. “I just want to go off grid for a while.”
He glances down at my hand, where I’ve been clutching my phone like a stress ball.
“You got a cellphone,” he says slowly.
“Yes?”
“Going off grid is all about cutting yourself off from the network. Solar panels for electricity and all that. No TV, internet, or cell phones allowed.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Harder to be tracked that way,” he adds. “I’ve got a few buddies from my SEAL team that are big into conspiracies.”
“Tracked?” I whisper. My eyes dart down to my phone. My very trackable phone with GPS enabled.
“Yeah, they don’t want anyone to be able to follow them. Not the government or the police or any crazy ex-girlfriends.”
He keeps talking, the soothing rumble of his voice blurring into the background as blood rushes to my head. I kept mycellphone. I didn’t toss it, or get a burner, or even turn off the location tracking.
