She looks too perfect to be real. Too soft and innocent. A lock of warm brown hair has escaped her ponytail, and I’m itching totouch it. Tuck it behind her ear. Run my fingers over the smooth skin of her face.
Fuck, what is wrong with me?
It feels like I’ve been looking at her forever, but in reality, it’s barely been a few seconds when the girl finally breaks eye contact. Her gaze flits to the group, and she raises her hand, shooting us all an apologetic grimace.
“Sorry,” she says, “I didn’t mean to scare anyone. I’m just out here for a run.”
My breath catches at the sound of her voice. It’s so damn sweet. So addictive. I’m already aching to hear it again.
Behind me, the group resumes their conversations, relaxing now they know there’s no danger. But I don’t think I’ve ever been less relaxed in my life. My whole body feels like it’s burning up, and all my blood is rushing downward, making my cock swell beneath my boxers.
Fuck.
I’ve never felt this kind of need before. Hell, I’m forty-four, and I’ve never been with a woman. Never been tempted. Never needed anyone. But one look at this angel, and I’ve totally lost control of my body—four decades of desire crashing into me all at once.
Goddammit, Gunnar.
Pull yourself together.
She looks about half my age—early twenties at most. Barely a woman. I should know better. Hell, I’ve already been staring for way too long, my mind racing with thoughts while my mouth stays silent. I need to say something. Anything.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
My words sound rough, harsher than I intended. But running on the trails alone is dangerous. It’s snowmelt season and we’re deep in the wilderness—anything could happen—and the thought sends a surge of protectiveness through me. I don’t wantto let this angel out of my sight, but she doesn’t look impressed by my warning. She cocks her head and frowns at me.
“I can handle myself. I know these woods.”
“You local?”
“Yep. Born and raised in Cherry Hollow,” she says.
My heart stutters. This girl has been breathing the same mountain air, walking the same paths as me, and I’ve never laid eyes on her until this moment. Hell, I guess it shouldn’t surprise me. Before I took up the guide job last year, I stayed away from the trails. I wanted to avoid hikers and tourists—chop wood in peace. But if I’d known this woman was out here, I’d have walked these trails every damn day just for a glimpse of her.
“Still dangerous,” I say finally. “A lot of wet ground around here. Marshland. Big patch of it about a?—”
“—mile west from here.” She finishes my sentence. “It starts near Old Miner’s Pass and ends over there by the creek.” Her arm extends, a finger pointing to the spot in the trees where the college kid almost jumped. “There are also patches around Eagle Eye Lookout, but they’re not deep.”
“Hm.”
I underestimated this girl. Clearly. And judging by the twinkle in her eye, she knows it.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Everly. You?”
“Gunnar.”
“Nice to meet you, Gunnar.” She softens, her plump lips curving into a smile as she says my name. “Thanks for being concerned about me, but I promise I’m always careful out here.”
I make a noise deep in my throat. It’s all I can manage. I believe she can handle herself, but it’s not enough to calm the wild instincts still raging through me. The desperate urge to watch over her. Keep her safe. Protect her from the dangers of the forest, the mountain, hell, the whole damn world.
Behind me, I can hear people getting restless, ready to start moving again. Everything in me screams that I should stay. Lose myself in those bright blue eyes and never find a way out. But Everly has already started to notice the impatient murmurs coming from behind us, her eyes flitting to the hikers. I get a sudden urge to drown the whole damn group in the lake.
“I better let you get back to your hike,” Everly says, her gaze finding mine once more. “Sorry again if I scared your group before.”
Fuck my group,I think bitterly. But all I say is, “Don’t mention it.”
“Maybe I’ll see you around the forest.”
