“Did you hear that?” she asked him, when he stood before her once more.
“Hear what?” Until he found out what she knew of the shifter world, he’d have to tread carefully.
She glanced in the woods around her. “An animal growling. Maybe a wolf? There was one on my property yesterday. It was friendly enough, but still.”
“They won’t get close,” he said, unwilling to lie to his mate. “Now, what’s going on with your car?” The rust bucket had to be at least fifteen years old.
“It was making a weird sound when I drove in from the city and again this morning on my way into town. Like a loud hum. Then on my way back, the racket got worse until I had to pull over. I’m afraid I’ll completely wreck the motor if I keep going.”
He nodded as though he knew what she was talking about. He didn’t. He wasn’t the mechanic in the family. “You should have had your husband look at it before taking it on a trip,” he told her.
She tilted her head to the side. “I don’t have a husband.”
“A boyfriend?” he asked, not bothering masking his question for what it was.
She grinned and shook her head.
“And you think telling this to a perfect stranger that you’re out in the middle of nowhere alone with is a good idea?” he asked. There was no place on this planet that she’d be safer than there with him, but she had no way of knowing that.
“We may not have formally met, but I have a feeling you’re a good guy.” She took a step back, making him want to move to get closer again, but he held himself still.
“What makes you say that?”
“If I’m not mistaken, you’re my knight in shining armor, otherwise known as Jax. There looks to be a fridge in your truck. And unless you’re delivering that to the pack of wolves that live in my forest, it’s meant for me. I’d be willing to bet there are some plumbing supplies in there somewhere, too,” she said as she waved a hand in the general direction of the truck without taking her eyes off him.
Jaxon nearly choked on his own spit. If only she knew he was delivering the fridge from the pack to her. He’d taken it from Mick’s garage where the fridge, along with other items, were being stored while the pack house was undergoing renovations. “Jaxon Barnet,” he finally said and held his hand out to her. He wanted a hell of a lot more than a handshake, but any contact at this point was better than nothing.
She smiled as she took his hand, sending electricity zipping through his entire body. “Maple Hudson.”
“Were you named after the trees, Maple?” he asked, waving toward the forest on either side of the road.
She rolled her eyes. “My grandparents used to operate the Sugar Shack at the back of the property. They tapped the trees in the spring and made candy. Schools from all around would come on field trips and learn about all things maple. Anyway, yeah. I’m named after the sugar maples that grow here. Weird, I know.”
“Not weird. It’s a lovely name.” He opened the door and helped her in. “I’ll grab what you have in the car, and we can get going.”
Six
Maple finally released the moan fighting to slip free ever since the Adonis of a man had gotten out of his truck and came to her rescue. Everything about him—from his smooth, graceful movements to the bunching muscles in his arms as he’d picked her up as though she weighed nothing—made her girly parts tingle and twitch. Her fingers itched to trace every hard ridge she’d felt when he’d slid her down his body. Not to mention what she wanted to do with her tongue. The man was ripped.
His dark brown hair curling at his nape was the perfect length to grab on to and pull him in for a kiss. Just the thought of those full lips on hers had a pulsing throb settling between her thighs. The man had walked straight out of her most lustful fantasy to save the day.
She straightened her dress as he rounded the truck to get in, happy she had made the effort rather than throwing on an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt. The way he’d eyed her when he’d taken her off the hood of her car had been worth it.
Maybe if she played her cards right, she’d have something more interesting than the peace and quiet of the cabin to entertain her while she was on vacation.
As soon as he closed the door, he breathed deeply and closed his eyes, grasping the wheel in a white-knuckled grip. A muscle in his jaw jumped.
“Is everything okay?” she asked. Maybe she’d read him wrong and she was putting him out. “If you have other plans or need to be elsewhere, I totally understand.”
She hadn’t noticed how bright the amber of his eyes had been earlier. How had she missed that? Because I’ve been ogling and drooling over every other part of him, that’s why.
“Everything is perfect. I’m right where I want to be.” His grip on the wheel eased, and he took another deep breath as he put the truck into drive.
“So, does your wife approve of you saving damsels in distress on lonely country roads?” she asked. He didn’t wear a ring, but that didn’t mean anything. As much as she’d love to get between the sheets with the
