Page 33 of Caretaker

Five minutes later I once again came to a halt. “Give me the phone number.”

“She wrote it on my hand.”

“Of course she did,” I said scornfully. I twisted the lid off my water, took his fingers in mine, then upended the bottle over his hand.

He didn’t say a word as I rubbed the phone number—and the little smiley face—off his skin.

We didn’t speak all the way back to his truck.

When we sat in the dark warmth of the truck cab, I finally looked at him. “You can’t do that. No phone numbers, dates, one night stands. You can’t do any of that. Not if you want to stay here with me.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“You know?”

“I knew the moment we had sex in the woods.”

I squinted. “You knew what, exactly?”

His smile was slow and filled with heat. “That you’re not the type to share.”

“Oh.” My mouth went dry, and I regretted using all my water on the offending ink stains.

“Baby hunter.” He ran the soft pad of his thumb over my lips. “You want to get naked with me?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “I really do.”

He dragged me across the seat and into his arms, and I forgot the girls, my jealousy, and my anger. I was in Shane Copas’ arms, and there was simply no room for anything else.