“You stayed.”
I stepped closer, which was stupid because now I could smell him. Soap and cold air first. Then leather, engine grease, and something unmistakably male underneath it all. The combination hit low in my stomach with humiliating speed.
I hated that.
“I heard you,” I said.
That landed. His face changed, not into guilt exactly, and not surprise. Recognition. The side-door conversation. The risk. The background check. The ugly little reminder that I had mistaken someone else’s warmth for safety.
He knew.
His eyes narrowed. “Then you know why.”
I folded my arms. “Because I’m suspicious?”
“Because I don’t know you.”
I laughed once, sharp enough to hurt my own throat. “And that justifies digging through my life?”
His voice dropped. “It justifies protecting my people.”
That pissed me off faster than coffee on an empty stomach. “Your people?” I pointed toward the house. “I’m not robbing anybody.”
“Didn’t say you were.”
“You implied it.”
His gaze moved to my packed truck, then back to me. “You’re proving my point.”
“I’m leaving because I don’t like feeling unwanted.”
His eyes stayed on mine, hard and steady. Nobody had eyes that green. It was irritating on principle. Like rainwater over stone. Like something alive in the desert that had no right surviving there.
Unfair.
He stepped closer. Not enough to touch. Enough to feel. The cold between us seemed to thin until all I noticed was the heat of him and the steady weight of his attention.
“You’re dramatic,” he said.
I barked out a laugh. “You’re an asshole.”
His mouth almost moved. Almost.
Bandit screamed from the truck.
Mason glanced over. “Cat agrees.”
I shoved past him toward the hood. “Move.”
He didn’t. “Truck’s dead.”
“It’s tired.”
“It’s dead tired.”
I popped the hood, and a pale curl of steam rose into the morning. Mason leaned over beside me, shoulder brushing mine, and that was a mistake. Not his. Mine. The heat coming off him rolled through the cold air, clean skin and soap and something rougher underneath. It made me hyperaware of every point where we weren’t touching, which seemed scientifically unnecessary and personally offensive.
He studied the engine in silence for longer than I liked.
