Page 23 of Merry Mended Hearts

“Hey,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I wanted to say something else. Something amazing and flirty.

Would it be awkward to mention the fact that I’d slept in his bed last night? Or maybe to mention him being fully clothed? Because that was all my foolish, romance-crazed brain could come up with in the moment.

Why did being around him make me feel like an open jacket and he was the zipper? Like he could cinch me up tight, make me feel safe, and keep me warm?

Even as I had that thought, I pictured him wielding, not logs, but a staff and a sword in either hand like a sexy younger Gandalf, storming into the fae king’s hall with brooding vengeance in his eyes as his tangled mass of dark hair and the bleeding wound on his shoulder told of the perilous troubles he’d had just to reach the castle in the first place.

More of those rippling muscles made their debut as he thrust a staff at the unsuspecting king and demanded he rise and fight him.

The swooning maiden that the king had abducted from Hero Boone’s village fought against the shackles restraining her wrists so she could join her rescuer in his battle to free her.

She had no resemblance to me whatsoever, for the record—regardless of the fact that her hair was the same glistening shade of mahogany and her features were eerily comparable to mine.

And she craved for him to take her to him and answer the fiery call he instilled in her blood with his mere presence.

Yeesh. When did this room blaze hotter?

My eyes plastered to his movements as he crouched before the fire and tossed the logs onto the pile, stirring the ashes and making the orange flames dance out of the way.

Boone was built better than most men in a stop-and-stare kind of way, a way that made single women do a double take and married women force their gazes away to keep their attention where it belonged. A way that made me want him to whisk me away to hidden closets where we could explore our mutual attraction without onlooking eyes.

Except as far as I knew, the attraction stirring me into a quiet frenzy was only one-sided.

Get a grip,I told myself.This isn’t a romance novel!

Who was he? What was he doing working in the middle of a Montana wasteland?

He and Junie both mentioned his family had claims staked to this inn. Was that all there was to it?

Boone dusted his hands and lifted his gaze to mine. I was, ridiculously, still staring. But I didn’t feel like I needed hide that fact.

Something about him was magnetic. Did he feel it, too?

A line appeared between his brows. “Everything okay?”

“I—” I gestured to the fire. “I just have never seen anyone add logs to a fire before,” I said stupidly.

Yeah. Because that was where my attention had been.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes at myself.

His face remained stoic. “I like to make sure they stay lit during business hours.”

“That’s commendable of you. I—I’m not in your room anymore,” I said in an awkward subject-change.

His face darkened, and I wasn’t sure why. What had really been so bad about me being there? What did he have to hide?

“You find somewhere else to stay? You leaving?”

I twirled my hair around my finger. Was he interested because he wasinterested? Or just being nice?

“A room came up. Open, I mean.”

“Like an availability?”

“Yeah.”

---