Page 32 of Rescued Hearts

For a heavy heartbeat, she didn’t move. The soft brush of her sigh crossed his face. “Yes.”

Swallowing hard, he forced himself to step back. She didn’t make a move to get in the truck either. Then she raised her hand and ran her fingers down his chest.

If he didn’t get a grip on himself, he was going to bend her over the truck. He reached past her and opened the door.

Reluctantly, she let her fingertips linger over his tie. With one more prolonged look, she slipped into the vehicle.

As soon as he closed the door, he regretted the barrier between them.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured. He raked his fingers through his hair and tried to steady his pulse.

This thing between them? It was real. And if the kiss they shared was any indication…things were just getting started.

Chapter Eight

Honor wiped her palms on her jeans and stood back, surveying the tables she and Gray set up under the wide awning of the ranch’s meeting space. Behind her, the sun cast a golden glow over the enormous field behind her. The tang of the mountain air mixed with hay and the scent of freshly tilled earth rode the air currents.

She eyed the tools she placed down the center of the tables. “I don’t have enough supplies for such a big workshop.”

Gray stood next to her, arms crossed, surveying the setup with the same intensity she imagined he used in the military. “If this activity is a hit—and I think it will be—the ranch will invest in the supplies you require.”

She stared at his profile. Sharp features and the angles of a Greek statue melded together to create a rugged beauty more breathtaking than the smoky blue mountains silhouetting him. And the way he assessed the tables made her think it was a life-or-death situation.

For all she knew, it was. Her nerves kicked in suddenly. These veterans were here to get help so they could lead peaceful lives after serving their country. Some might even be injured or maimed from war. She didn’t quite know what to expect.

She would figure it out. She was good at winging things on the fly.

She drew a deep breath, filling her lungs with smells of pine and earth—and man. Gray’s masculine scent, unique to him, teased at her senses and woke up her body in the same ways he’d awakened it the previous night when he kissed her.

Kissed was a tame word for what had taken place in the parking lot of Prairie Ember. The man had ravished her.

She had no doubt in her mind that if he wanted to, he couldclaimher.

And she would let him.

Her nerves still tingled from his kisses. When she woke up this morning and looked at her reflection in the mirror, she saw that light pink streaks graced her throat where he had brushed his lips and his beard singed her skin.

To break the tension thrumming inside her, she nudged him with her elbow. “You don’t have to look so serious. It’s just beads and wire, not live ammo.”

The corner of his mouth turned up, but he still looked wary. “Still, it’s a lot of sharp objects for these guys. We all have histories.”

She jolted at the way he lumped himself in with the vets. Studying him closer, she tried to root out any signs of scars on Gray—either on the surface or hidden deep down inside him. After only a moment, she gave up. If she had to make a guess, the man was good at masking them.

With a smirk, she attempted to lighten the mood. “Then you better behave.”

His gray gaze slid to her. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll make you do all the delicate work.”

He huffed a quiet laugh and took a step closer. Her breath caught. Every nerve in her body pulsed with excitement and anticipation of another kiss from Gray.

Just then, a couple guys ducked under the awning keeping the hot summer sun off their necks.

Gray stepped back and nodded to the men. One had visible scars on his forearms. When she followed the twisted skin down to his burned hands, her heart sank. He was coming to a jewelry-making workshop, and it was quite possible he wouldn’t be able to use his hands.

Her mind tumbled over ways to adapt to his special needs when five more men entered the space. Many of the first walked in under their own power, but they continued to arrive on crutches, in wheelchairs. One man had the leg of his Wrangler jeans pinned up over his missing limb.

Honor greeted each of them with a welcoming smile and nod. This was a far cry from what she did on a day-to-day basis in her business. She designed and created jewelry to sell at festivals and in her online shop. She only gave workshops once in a while, and never to a group of people like these men.

---