Tags:
Fiction,
Romance,
Contemporary,
Family Life,
ozarks,
sensual,
reunion,
cabin,
second chances,
Officer,
Marriage Proposal,
Raging Storm,
Whose Ring
hand motions, instructing her to stay at a safe distance while he cut, after which she could drag the smaller pieces off the road and into the ditch. Considering her formidable resolve, he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that Jenny threw herself into the job. It was dirty and sweaty work, but she pushed on gamely until her ponytail straggled against her damp neck, her clothes were muddy and her shirt had a small tear at the hem, perhaps from catching on a sharp branch. And still he had to force himself to concentrate on the potentially hazardous job at hand when his eyes wanted to turn in her direction instead. Even tousled and grubby—or perhaps especially so—something about her made his thoughts wander into dangerous and forbidden directions and brought back memories that heated his blood and hardened his groin.
Didn’t mean anything, he assured himself. He was a reasonably healthy male in the middle of a dry spell, so it was only natural for him to react to an attractive, temptingly tousled woman.
After two hours, she looked as though her energy was fading fast. He felt as though he’d been kicked in the shoulder by an angry horse. Turning off the saw, he set it on the ground and swiped at his sweat-beaded forehead with the back of his left hand. He’d removed several of the large limbs, but a few more needed to come off before he could even attempt to move the tree off the road. It was taking longer than he wanted to cut through the hard wood. He only hoped he had enough gas and oil on hand to finish the job.
He still needed to figure out a way to pull the tree out of the roadway, but maybe he could think more clearly after taking something for pain. He knew better than to swallow prescription pills and then run a power saw, so he’d settle for over-the-counter remedies. He glanced at Jenny. “You need a break.”
Even muddy, wet and wilted, she could skewer him with a lifted eyebrow. “
I
need a break?”
“We need a break,” he conceded grudgingly.
She nodded in satisfaction. “I just want to move this last branch.”
She took hold of a leafy limb the size of a small tree and gave a tug. It didn’t budge. Gavin stood beside her, grabbing the branch with his left hand. Their gloved hands almost touched. He had only to shift his weight a little to be pressed against her from behind. She glanced up at him over her shoulder and their eyes locked. Hers dilated a bit; his probably did, too.
He told himself again that some reactions were purely biological. And then quickly slid his hand down a couple inches from hers, ostensibly to get a better grip. “On three.”
With his count, Jenny pulled so enthusiastically he nearly fell backward when the branch shot forward. He put one foot back to steady himself, and reached out automatically with his right hand to get a better grip. A grunt of pain escaped him before he could swallow it. He hoped Jenny hadn’t heard, but he should have known better. She didn’t say anything, but he saw the sympathy on her face when he glanced at her.
He turned away. The one thing he had never wanted from Jenny Baer was pity. “Let’s go inside.”
* * *
Gavin insisted Jenny take the bathroom first to get cleaned up while he put on the kettle for tea. He was still making an effort to be a thoughtful host, she thought. Smiling a little, she closed herself in the bathroom, then glanced into the mirror. Her smile faded immediately. She reached hastily for a washcloth and a bar of soap.
When she rejoined Gavin in the kitchen, she spotted a bottle of over-the-counter pain relievers by the sink that hadn’t been there earlier. His shoulder had to be giving him fits, but he hadn’t complained once and she didn’t think he wanted her to ask.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the mug he offered her. The tea was still too hot to drink, so she carried it to the table and took a seat to wait for it to cool a bit.
“I checked the weather on my phone. Rain’s
Learning to Kill: Stories