Page 67 of The Lost Book of First Loves

“I should head back before I take up your entire day.”

He wouldn’t mind. It was a surprising realization for a man who had become used to his own company, especially since Carson’s death.

“I can walk you back to the cabin, if you want.”

“Not necessary,” she assured him.

“I could always send Hank with you, if that would help you feel more comfortable.”

She reached down to pet the dog, who had wandered over as soon as June stood up. “If something were to happen to me, would he come running back to you like Lassie to alert you that I need help?”

“I wouldn’t be at all surprised.”

“I’ll be fine. I don’t need an escort, but thanks. You also do not have to babysit me on a hike this evening. I am quite sure you have better things to do with your time.”

“I can’t think of a single thing I would enjoy more. I’m looking forward to it. I’ll see you at six.”

She nodded and he held the door open for her. As she moved past him, her shoulder brushed his chest. She must have felt the contact as well because she froze and looked at him.

He wanted her.

Desire seemed to surge out of nowhere, like electricity crackling through the air before a lightning strike.

She caught her breath, her gaze locked on his, and he could swear he saw an answering flicker of desire in her eyes.

They gazed at each other for one sparkling moment. He leaned forward, unable to help himself. An instant before he would have kissed her, he came to his senses and turned hisface away when he heard the distant rumble of thunder in the distance.

“You’d better hurry if you want to make it home before that storm moves any closer.”

She blinked several times before she spoke. “Yes. You’re right,” she said, sounding breathless, then she hurried down the steps and headed toward the cabin.

Chapter 22

Juniper

As she walked along the path through the trees, June was aware of every single beat of her heart.

Was it because of her stupid ICD or was it in reaction to the moment when she had been certain Beckett Hunter wanted to kiss her?

How was she supposed to know the difference?

Maybe she was wrong. She could have misread the signals. It was possible he had only been polite, holding the door open for her as he would for anyone else, and she had completely misinterpreted the sudden hunger she thought she saw in his eyes.

No. She hadn’t been wrong. In those few frozen seconds when they had stood only inches apart, he had looked at her with an unmistakable awareness.

Remembering it sent a wave of heat through her as that distant thunder rumbled over the mountains again and she picked up her pace.

She was in no position to be attracted to any man right now, especially not one as vibrant and alive as Beck. Her body was still trying to heal and her mind had much work to do, as well.

She was a mess. Everything she had once believed about herself—that she was tough, invincible, driven—had been shaken to the core.

She was in a lousy place to think about even kissing a man; forget about anything more.

Her track record in relationships wasn’t the greatest, anyway. After she had dated Adam briefly, she’d had a few casualrelationships, but they never went far, mostly because she had never been tempted to carve out room in her hectic, demanding life for any kind of relationship.

Nothing had changed. If anything, her life was now far more complicated than it had been two weeks earlier.

As she hurried through the woods, she suddenly had to fight a fierce urge to climb into Carson’s Jeep, drive to the nearest city with a major airport and catch a flight that very night back to her real life in Seattle. To her apartment, her friends, those rare inconsequential relationships with guys whose names she could hardly remember.

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