Page 9 of Her Property

“Really?” he said, still rifling through the papers inside.

Cat’s hand was throbbing in her lap, but she nodded. “Really. I’ll ask for something strong at the clinic.”

In her present state, she wasn’t quite sure she trusted herself to move. Not that there was anywhere for her to go.

He turned to her with his eyebrow raised. Her insides seemed to go gooey.

“Braver than me,” he said, sitting up.

“I doubt it. I just want to get this looked after,” she said, her voice tighter than she meant it to be.

“Yes ma’am,” Jake said. Reaching under the wheel he cranked the engine on with a roar that made her gasp, from shock or release or what, she didn’t know. She just knew she needed to get this hand taken care of and then get out of this man’s presence before she made another huge mistake.

Jake

The roads of Jewel Lakes County were as familiar to Jake as his own face in the mirror, each country road off the main highway like one of the smile lines beginning to grow in the corners of his eyes. These roads were familiar. Comfortable. They felt like home, even though home had such a polarizing set of memories. In the last month, between taking over his grandparents’ property, making applications at the town hall for the camp, and visiting his Gran in Millerville, he must have driven this particular stretch a thousand times.

So why now was he constantly checking the mirrors to see if he’d passed the turnoff to Barkley Falls? For once, he wasn’t lost in his thoughts; stuck in the roiling pain in his gut that had lived there in the five years since James had been gone.

He was very much here, in this truck.

Not alone.

The reason why gave a sigh and turned her head towards the cracked window of his rumbling truck. She’d nodded off next to him, her head tipped back on the old bench seat. The cool breeze streaming in from the window was making a strand of hair dance across her cheek. God, she was beautiful—all curves and loose hair and parted lips. She looked so soft and vulnerable it made his stomach clench.

But he knew that couldn’t be the whole story.

She’d chewed his head off when he came to Jones’ door. He bet she was actually fierce as shit. For a moment, as he drove the winding country highway he hoped was leading them to Barkley Falls, he pictured her curves fitted into a knife-edge-seam suit. He imagined her decimating a hapless criminal in the witness box, slamming her hand down on the courtroom table. Or whatever it was she did as a lawyer. He didn’t know if being in court looked anything like the dramas on TV, but in this moment, he liked to think it did—like she’d be one of those hot lawyers on the shows who would eviscerate you in court and slap you in bed.

Though maybe she wasn’t like that in bed. Maybe she’d be soft and yielding like she looked right now. Maybe she liked being less in control when she was naked.

He looked in her direction again and startled. Her eyes were open.

Shit.How long had they been open? Could she tell he’d been thinking about her?

“Hey,” he said. Was that casual? He hoped it was casual.

“Did I fall asleep?” she asked.

Jake looked back at the road, trying to push down the strange fluttering in his belly and the thoughts of naked limbs and soft sounds in his head.

“Yeah—understandable, though. You were in a bit of shock. Trauma can do that to you.” Jake’s thoughts turned as he remembered James after so many stints in rehab. Gran kept calling him all the way overseas to ask if it was normal that he slept for so long.

“How long was I out?” she asked.

“Only a few minutes. We’re only another ten minutes away from the clinic.”

I think.

He guided the truck around a bend. Even with her seatbelt firmly fastened she slid forward. She reached for the handle on the door to steady herself, but seemed to remember her injury at the last minute and missed. Jake thrust his arm out to keep her from sliding sideways, catching her on the thigh, his arm brushing her upper body. She was warm and soft against him and his crotch twitched at the press of her breast against his triceps.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling his hand away. “These old bench seats aren’t great for keeping you contained.”

“Thanks,” she said, her voice tight. Was she embarrassed or pissed off?

He swallowed down the nerves crawling up his throat, moving his hand back to the wheel.

What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t normally like this around women. It was like he had forgotten how to act normal. Something about this woman was messing with him—maybe it was the fact that she was Alfred Jones’ employee. Untouchable. Possibly a spy. Whatever it was, the air in his truck was different with her in it, like the atoms had shifted, diverging into something new.

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