The door opened, and he walked through. It had been a few days, and I hadn’t seen him again, partly because I avoided the tavern. Both irritation and interest sparked to life because, despite our first encounter, the man really was hot as hell. He wore jeans the way they were meant to be worn, hanging on narrow hips with thigh muscles that had me biting my lip because damn. His black tee left little to the imagination; his arms were works of art, muscled and tanned. I saw ink on his right arm, but the design got lost under his sleeve.
The man who had been helping me smiled big. “Hey, Killian, what’s up?”
Killian, what a great name, it fit him, too. He glanced our way and I became suddenly very interested in the lawn mower the man had been showing me, looking at the ticket but not reading a damn thing.
“Hey, Pat.”
My hope was he’d walk away, but I wasn’t so lucky. There was no avoiding it, so I lifted my gaze and stared right at him. Recognition moved over his face, his eyes taking their time, moving down my body, and I felt that stare as fire ignited under my skin. I was in jeans and a tee, but I felt like I was standing there naked. That blue gaze collided with mine, his lips parted; I leaned in, curious about what he was going to say.
“You look different with clothes on.”
I felt more than saw the look Pat gave me. Of all the…
I turned to Pat. “Whichever mower you think is best, and the other items we discussed. I’d like to have them delivered. I’ll be back after you’ve helped…” I gestured with my hand to Killian.
“Of course. We can deliver tonight or tomorrow morning,” Pat said.
I started for the door, but called over my shoulder, “You better make it tomorrow morning because nighttime is my busiest time.”
It was harder than I thought digging a garden. I was putting one around the garage. Once the porch was done, I’d put one around there, too, but I was thinking maybe I needed a landscaper to dig the beds.
I reached for my iced tea, wiped at my forehead and took a step back to see what I’d done. It was just the bed; I had yet to add the flowers and mulch, but it looked good.
I had an extra room over the garage and the light that came through…if I was a painter, I would totally make that my studio. I was thinking about turning it into a kind of greenhouse, starting the flowers and vegetables from seed. I wanted a vegetable garden, and I had the room, though, I’d need to fence it completely off because of all the critters.
I heard the car and turned to see a truck coming down the drive. Graham wasn’t expected for another half an hour. I put my glass down, pulled my gloves off and realized it was a ranger of sorts from the emblem on the side of his truck.
He climbed from the truck, and damn, there had to be something in the air around here. Dark hair, blue eyes and when he smiled, a dimple appeared.
“Morning,” he called.
“Good morning.”
“Sorry to just drop in, but I wanted to welcome you,” he said, closing the distance between us and offering his hand. “I’m Sebastian.”
“Cedar.”
He looked around. “You’ve been busy.”
I followed where he was looking. “I’ve still more to do, but it’s coming along.”
He nodded to where I was digging. “A garden?”
“That’s the plan, but it’s harder than it looks. Would you like some iced tea or coffee?”
“No, thank you,” he said, turning from my house to me. He was tall, almost a foot taller than me, and I was five six. “I don’t want to take up your time. I just wanted to stop by because I know you’re from New York, but living here is a little different.”
“Yeah, the raccoon welcoming committee drove that point home.”
He chuckled. “I don’t want to scare you, but I don’t want you to be caught unaware either.”
That didn’t sound good.
“Avoid clusters of rocks because there are rattlesnakes around here.”
Rattlesnakes. Well, shit.
“There are mountain lions and bears, but they usually stay to themselves.”
“Mountain lions and bears?” I felt the blood drain from my face.
He looked contrite before he said, “I’m sorry. I spend my time around animals. I’m not really good with people. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, I appreciate the warning. I knew there would be other animals sharing this place with me, but I was thinking raccoons and skunks and deer, not snakes, mountain lions and bears.”
“Just don’t leave your cans out, and you should be fine.” He turned toward his truck but added, “And there will be sounds, a scratching sound is likely antlers being rubbed against a tree. Screeching could be owls or bats, barking could be wolves, screaming could be eagles. When you’re here long enough, you’ll get familiar with the various sounds, and they won’t have you running for the phone.” He pulled out a business card. “But if you aren’t sure, call me.”
His visit was meant to put me at ease, and I was grateful he made the trip, but I was a little freaked out. I took his card. “Thank you.”
“Welcome to Little Hill,” he said, before he strolled to his truck. I watched him drive off, all the time second-guessing whether I should put in a vegetable garden because that was like ringing the dinner bell. I didn’t think too long on it because another truck appeared. I saw the writing on the side. It was Graham. It was nice putting a face to his voice. He was probably in his forties, short black hair, and pale green eyes, but there was absolutely no question he had Native American blood.
“Cedar, good to have the face to go with the voice,” he said in way of greeting. My thoughts exactly.
“Hi,
