“I protect what’s on my land,” he continues. “You step onto it, you’re under my watch.”
Under my watch.
The phrase shouldn’t send heat skimming down my spine.
“And if I don’t?” I ask.
“Then you’re on your own.”
No threat.
No drama.
Just fact.
I close my eyes for a second, exhaling slowly.
This is insane.
Driving to a stranger’s property in the middle of nowhere?
Letting him take control?
Everything in me should be screaming no.
Instead, I glance at the photograph again.
I see you.
My stomach tightens.
“I’ll be there in twenty,” I say.
Silence.
Then: “Thirty,” he corrects. “Road’s worse than you think.”
I huff out a breath despite myself. “You always this confident?”
“Only when I’m right.”
There it is again.
That edge.
That control.
“Send me the location,” I say.
“It’s already on your phone.”
I freeze. “What?”
“Listing’s linked,” he says.
Of course it is.
Of course he thought of that.
