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Myla wondered if she’d taken a wrong turn and ended up in a snow globe. From inside the bubble of Freddy’s warmth, the tunnel of trees and snow closed out the rest of the world. Darby’s instructions had been clear so she was pretty sure she wasn’t lost but she was also pretty sure she’d left civilization—and maybe reality—behind. The plowed road gave her some confidence but she’d only seen trees, bushes, and snow for ages. No houses. No power lines.
On the plus side, no Yeti or polar bears either.
As Freddy crept around yet another curve, a building appeared on the right. Two garage doors as well as a people door along the front. The mossy siding would have it blending in during the summer and even in the winter, it somehow didn’t look out of place.
No signs announced its purpose but Myla figured she’d found Sawyer’s so-called shed because there couldn’t possibly be two buildings this far out. She pulled Freddy up and parked along the edge of the snowbank. No other vehicles. A peek at her phone showed she was a couple of minutes early and, as predicted, there was still no cell service. No way to check she was in the right place.
As Myla stepped out of the car, the crisp air tickled her nose and tried to penetrate her new outfit. Her puffy black ski pants and bright red jacket laughed at the cold even as they made her feel like a marshmallow. Earlier that morning, Darby had pointed her in the direction of CharterGear, owned by Quinn Charter, another member of the Hot and Sexy Bloo Moose Men’s Club. The town should start a marketing campaign.
Weirdly, Quinn’s smile and charm hadn’t provided a single tingle. Not like her interaction with her grumpy rescuer. She’d never been drawn to his type before. Joel, the spawn of pond scum, hadn’t had a solitary alpha tendency. To be fair, he’d been more of an experiment than a real relationship. She’d known her heart wouldn’t be involved when he dumped her. Which he had. Like the weasel he was.
Myla grabbed her hat and mitts, slammed Freddy’s door, then patted his hood in apology. No more thinking about the spineless worm. Sure, she’d expected him to have some kind of reaction to her leg but the man had almost vomited in his hurry to get away from her.
Shaking off the thoughts, Myla yanked up the collar of her jacket, tugged down her hat, and wound the scarf around her neck. Darby had told her it was a beautiful winter day but the woman was obviously crazy. Every time Myla exhaled her breath materialized as a little cloud. Air skated down to her lungs, chilling her from the inside out.
Knowing movement would keep her warm and distract her from her depressing thoughts, Myla turned her attention to the woods.
Her editor wanted a dozen or more articles out of her two weeks in Bloo Moose and her total knowledge of winter was zero. Unless she counted her moose encounter and subsequent visit to the ditch.
While her blog audience would love those stories, her editor was looking for actual winter adventures. Purposeful adventures. Sure, her anonymous blog was gaining more sponsors all the time but, most of her income came from travel writing.
As usual, Myla wasn’t planning on advertising the fact that she was a writer to the people of Bloo Moose. She still wasn’t sure how she’d ended up confiding the information to Darby but the woman agreed with the secrecy plan.
Few people acted naturally when they knew she was going to write about her experiences—even when she explained that she never identified people and rarely identified places. Her editor liked her to appeal to a wide audience and to make people feel as if they could copy her exploits no matter where they lived.
Myla clomped toward Sawyer’s shed—how could anyone call this huge building a shed?—and knocked on the door. The mysterious guide might have walked here from wherever he lived. Probably in a secret cave hidden deep in the woods if he was as reclusive as his sister implied.
No answer.
Waddling in her thick clothes, Myla shuffled around the building, searching for another entrance. The snow crunched with every step. The top layer was thick and hard but about an inch down, it was light and fluffy. Weird.
Trudging around the building, she found nothing more than some high up windows and a log pile on one side. Apparently He-man used a wood stove and didn’t care that civilization was a mere thirty-minute drive away. Hard to imagine what he kept inside. The shed was bigger and in far better shape than many of the foster homes she’d stayed in.
Five minutes later, worry started to gnaw at Myla. The shed’s door was locked and Sawyer might be injured or unconscious inside. She wasn’t tall enough to peek in the windows but the log pile was close to one of them so she headed that way.
Sure enough, the logs were stacked close to the window. Unsure if they would hold her, Myla kicked at the pile. They weren’t conveniently stacked like stairs, so she moved a few. The mittens helped with the cold and kept the slivers away. Multi-purpose, she thought with a grin.
Between the exertion of moving the logs—so much heavier than they looked—and the thick clothing, Myla was sweating by the time her staircase was ready. Her weak leg didn’t like the icy surface or the wobbly footing but she eased her way right to the top. The window was a foot or so to the right and dark. Leaning out, she grabbed at the sill with one hand and shifted the pressure on her legs.
Barking shattered the silence and threw her completely off balance. Myla slipped and thumped to the top of the logs, then hit every single one as she tumbled to the ground below.
Snow wasn’t nearly as soft as it looked. Before she could even catch her breath, two huskies rounded the building, howling and barking as if they’d discovered the world’s biggest bone.
Fear rippled through her until she realized they weren’t attacking with anything but their tongues. As they surrounded her, stepped on her, and licked at her face, she gave in to the inevitable and stopped moving, legs on the logs, head in the snow, and tried to pat them into submission. The friendly monsters probably weighed as much as she did and they were definitely stronger.
A sharp curse had both dogs’ heads lifting, even while their paws pressed her farther into the ground. “Dimwits. Get off the woman.” More muttering as a man’s hands reached down through the dogs, shifted some logs, then yanked her up through the fur and wood until she slammed into him.
Him.
Him, him.
Sexy, grumpy, rescuer, him.
“You’re Sawyer?”
Frozen chocolate eyes stared back at her. Well, more of a glare than a stare. The dogs continued to sniff and lick but she couldn’t have pulled her eyes away if they were the Yeti she’d imagined earlier.
Sawyer. The man she’d fantasized about last night. The man she’d booked to work with over the next two weeks.
Even through the thick layers of clothing, her body reacted to him. It was more than the muscles, more than the face. She’d never had such silly, lustful reactions to any man. Maybe it was the whole strong and silent thing. Her body was definitely in lust.
Too bad he didn’t appear to have the same reaction. If he did, she could recruit him to help her take the next steps to owning her sexuality. Well, have sex, anyway.
Even the thought of being skin to skin with Sawyer sent chills through her. She’d never felt that way about any other man and she didn’t want to feel anything with this one. Winter was wreaking havoc with her body.
“You? You’re the one who wants snowshoeing lessons?” The disbelief in his voice matched his gaze as it flickered over her new winter gear, to Freddy and back. “Why?”
There was the sixty-four thousand dollar question. Best to go with part of the truth. “I’ve never done it before.”
Sawyer’s baffled expression faded, his jaw tightened and she thought she heard his teeth grind. He didn’t even blink while he waited for her to elaborate. Not going to happen. Once she started talking, she’d babble. She always babbled when she was nervous and every last thing about the formidable man in front of her had her nerves singing.
Finally, Sawyer turned and marched to the shed and she didn’t work too hard to decipher the mutters floating back on the wind. She bit her lip to hide her smile, fearing that might be the last straw and he’d cancel the lesson.
Sawyer moved with grace and purpose. Fluid strength. Economical readiness. He had to be former military. Strong. Solitary. Shielded.
Myla had worked with several soldiers on a variety of stories and she wondered what had made Sawyer so closed off, so careful. Whatever it was, it would be more than she could handle. Probably made being abandoned in a dumpster at birth look pretty tame.
Made her want to reach out to him but she was the last person who should be offering advice on how to be a balanced and emotionally stable human being.
The dogs followed Sawyer but didn’t go inside. Instead, they curled into balls beside the open door at the front of the shed. Myla took a few steps inside before coming to a halt, mouth agape. It was almost as crowded as Quinn’s store where she’d gotten her Winter Virgin discount. Which still made her smile.
Shelves covered every wall of Sawyer’s shed. Racks held skis, poles, snowshoes, fishing rods, paddles, and some things she couldn’t identify. Kayaks and canoes were stored in the rafters. The floor space was taken up with ATVs, snowmachines, and toolboxes. Lots of toolboxes.
Two wood stoves stood opposite each other on the side walls but neither was working at the moment. Along the back, a section of the room had been closed off to create a smaller room. Office or bedroom. Possibly a bathroom. Although without any electricity, she doubted there would be plumbing, making her glad she’d only had half a cup of Darby’s coffee this morning.
The space gave her further insight into the man. Organized. Prepared for anything. Took his sports and his equipment seriously. What she saw probably reflected his entire life. She suspected he was controlled in every aspect of his world.
With the dogs outside and the interior dimly lit by the cloudy sky, the building was strangely intimate, especially when Sawyer turned and waved her over.
Myla forced her writer’s brain into action. She hadn’t done any research before the assignment, wouldn’t have even if her editor had given her more warning.
Through experience, she’d discovered her writing was more successful if she approached every adventure as a newbie, learning right along with her audience. Now, she needed to analyze the things she would learn, not Sawyer’s reactions and certainly not his psyche. Focus.
Attempting to ignore her ridiculous response to this man, Myla studied the different kinds of snowshoes hanging from the wall. Three distinct styles in all kinds of sizes. The variety was surprising and she wanted to take pictures of the wall to use in the article but she didn’t think Sawyer would approve. The man hadn’t so much as smiled and she wasn’t about to ask any favors from him.
If she did ask favors, they certainly wouldn’t be about taking pictures of snowshoes.
Clumsy Girl Loses Her Mind. To Lust.
“Which would you like to use for the lesson?”
Myla clamped her lips together as she ruthlessly cut off thoughts of the lessons she’d really like to ask of him.
Snowshoes. Think about the snowshoes. The largest ones were wooden and shaped like teardrops. The second were almost circular and much smaller. The final ones were rectangular tubes made out of some kind of metal. “Those look the easiest.”
Sawyer’s eyes didn’t give away much, as he slipped into instructor mode. “They are.” He pointed at the teardrops. “These are the traditional style. They’re the largest and heaviest. The aluminum ones are more modern. They come in a variety of styles, modified for different types of terrain. Some are designed for jogging, others for climbing. They’re light and maneuverable. The round ones are bear paws. They’re popular with beginners and kids.” His eyes raked the length of her legs.
Cataloging her weaknesses. Too short. Too inexperienced. Time to show Mr. Winter she wasn’t a wimp. “I’d like to try the traditional ones first.”
A raised eyebrow was his only reaction as he asked for her shoe size and selected two pairs. She followed him outside to a small clearing next to the shed. He squatted beside her and lifted the snowshoe. “These straps here fit over your boots and will keep your foot in place while allowing you semi-normal use of your foot, although you’ll still walk like a penguin.” His grin startled her both with its appearance and its power. A grin like that could turn bones to mush at a hundred yards. “Let’s get your strong foot in first. That’ll let your left one take your weight without the added complication of the snowshoe.”
Everything in Myla froze. He knew about her foot. She hadn’t said a word to a soul. She never did. In the whole world, only a handful of people knew about her weak leg and none of them knew anything about her trip to Vermont. But, he knew.
When she didn’t immediately respond to his words, Sawyer looked up, a question in his eyes. “Ready?”
She held his gaze for a long moment before deciding she didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to bring her weakness out into the open. He watched her without emotion. No pity or disgust. Some curiosity. And patience. She’d bet he could out-wait those moose statues in town.
When she nodded, he turned his attention back to her feet. Myla drew in a deep breath. She’d wanted Sawyer to see her as a whole person but he’d spotted her weakness anyway. The sexy fantasies she’d been weaving around him fizzled away.
For once, she’d like a sexy man to see her and light up. Maybe have some fantasies of his own about her. Her subconscious tried to shout at her that she’d need to stay in one place longer than a couple of weeks at a time if she wanted a relationship but she shut it down.
Staying in one place required so many risks. People rarely wanted to keep her around and it was smarter to be the one to leave than be the one who was left.
And it was past time to cut the pity party.
In her articles, Myla experienced the adventures like everyone else. No one needed to know that BMX biking and rock climbing were incredibly challenging when one side of your body was weaker than the other. They only wanted to know what it would take for them to bike and climb, experience the thrill vicariously.
In her blog, she was anonymous. That’s where her audience got to laugh along with Clumsy Girl’s less-than-expert attempts. They’d loved her tales of face-planting while waterskiing, where she’d skipped like a stone across a pond. Only with more bruises.
Every new adventure brought new hope that she could fit in for a few weeks at a time. Never had her leg been identified so early. So easily. With an effort, Myla managed to focus in on Sawyer’s words as he finished tying her straps and stood.
“Start slow. Get the feel of the way your legs have to work. Don’t shuffle, make sure you lift your heels.” The man’s voice could soothe hungry alligators. He exuded confidence and she let it fill her as she started to move. Two steps in, the giggles started. Arms out to the side like Godzilla on a tightrope. A sexy image sure to keep her guide up at night.
Oblivious to her thoughts, Sawyer followed alongside her, reaching out to steady her when she wobbled. His soft touches and occasional words had her adapting quickly and wondering about another facet of the man.
After a couple of minutes, he pronounced her steady enough for an excursion through the woods and gestured to the non-trampled snow under the trees.
“There aren’t any paths, so the fresh powder will make it a little trickier but following in my footsteps will help. Don’t panic when you sink a little, you won’t go far.” His gaze flickered to her feet and he pursed his lips. “Keep lifting those heels. Shuffling will cause you nothing but headaches.”
He waited until she nodded, then turned and strode off, leaving her to follow at about half the speed and a hundredth the grace. The snoozing dogs leapt to their feet and bounded off into the snow, making her appear even more inept. When the huskies circled back to walk with her for a while, she wondered if they sensed her unease.
Gunner, the steadier of the two huskies, sent her encouraging looks, while the appropriately-named Loco hopped in front of her, making her laugh even while she windmilled her arms to keep upright.
Sawyer checked over his shoulder then whistled. Loco bounced to the side, then circled Sawyer, nipping at the snowshoes like they were covered in doggie treats. The man didn’t slow down or lose his balance for a moment.
Splitting her attention between her precarious footwork and watching Sawyer’s loping stride became easier. He wasn’t wearing puffball pants like hers, so the view was a great reward for stepping securely.
As they walked, Myla tried to engage Sawyer in conversation but his one-word answers and shrugs had her chatting with Gunner instead. At least the husky panted in response and she didn’t have to stretch her voice in the cold.
When her knee started to ache from the awkward motion, Sawyer broke into a clearing and stopped walking. “We’ll take a break for a few minutes.” He pulled a pair of water bottles out of the pack he wore and handed her one.
She took it gratefully and pulled down the scarf she’d worn over her mouth to take a sip. The cold water tasted great but shocked her core on the way down. “Thanks.” The words sent more cold air through her system, making her lips tingle and she tugged the scarf back up, glad she’d let Quinn convince her it was a necessity.
The clearing resembled a scene from a fairy tale. Puffs of snow marched along the barren branches and contrasted beautifully with the deep greens of the pines. Clean, crisp, and surprising.
Myla had spent time in forests in several states but never in the winter. The absolute quiet surprised her. The snow softened the noise, muting their steps and the swishes of their clothing. Obviously, much of the wildlife was either hibernating or had flown south but those that remained moved stealthily so as not to disturb the quiet.
She wondered if a shout would reverberate through the woods or if the snow would absorb it and make it fade away. So many things to know and discover. Despite her protesting muscles, Myla wanted to keep exploring, find out if the snow on the branches was crusty like the snow on the ground. See if she could spot the tracks of a rabbit or a fox beneath the trees.
Her scarf filtered the air, warming it before it entered her mouth and nose, mixing the wool with the pine, fir, and the clean smell of snow. Not really a scent. Not something she could easily identify but something she knew she’d never fail to recognize.
As she was about to ask how much farther they were walking, both dogs’ heads turned to the far side of the clearing and identical growls rose from their throats.
Despite the sweat she’d worked up inside her warm clothes, chills raced along her spine. Sawyer murmured an instruction and the dogs quieted but remained on high alert. Legs stiff, noses high and quivering, ears forward. Focused.
Myla lifted her foot to move toward Sawyer but he shot her a look that shut down the movement as effectively as the command had stopped the dogs. A nervous giggle started deep in her chest but she clamped her lips together, wondering what could put three alpha creatures on such high alert.
Whatever it was, she hoped it stayed far, far away. Knowing her phone was on silent, Myla slipped it out of her pocket and opened the camera to snap a picture of the dogs. Everything about them screamed, Danger! and focusing on the photos helped stop her from fleeing into the forest.
Through the lens, she surveyed the surrounding trees but saw nothing scarier than snow-laden branches, ready to dump their loads on unsuspecting passersby. She snapped a few pictures, forcing herself to look for views rather than abominable snowmen.
A howl broke the silence, similar to the howls she’d heard from Sawyer’s dogs but different enough to have her heart racing. More powerful. Visceral. And far too close.
Panic raced through her. She’d never be able to move quickly enough in the snowshoes. At the best of times, her high speed was more stroll than run. Her leg would put Sawyer in danger.
All the fairy tales raced through her mind. Even the pigs had houses for protection. The dogs wouldn’t stand a chance against wolves. She knew Sawyer would try to protect her. It would be up to her to not let him get hurt because of her weakness.
Her hands shook, so she slipped her useless phone back into her pocket. They weren’t even in cell phone coverage range. She doubted they could even use the GPS thingy to find their bones.
When the shaking extended to her knees, she must have made some kind of sound, because Sawyer pulled his attention from the trees and aimed it at her. The intensity of his gaze had her feet yearning to run for the safety of his arms and she was sure her face was broadcasting those very thoughts.
The blanket of nothingness cloaking his eyes had dropped but instead of fear or even nerves, she saw interest. Curiosity.
Aimed at the wolves.
The crazy man was enthralled by wolf howls. How was she supposed to save a nutcase?
Another howl sounded and his eyes lit up. Totally nuts.
She opened her mouth to speak but he motioned at her to be quiet. Grinned as he hushed her.
Straight out of the box Cracker Jacks crazy.
Gunner whimpered and turned to them. Excitement rippled through the husky as well.
At least she’d bought the right colored jacket.
Wolf: 1, Clumsy Girl Riding Hood: 0.
***
SAWYER wanted to follow the howls. For the first time, the wolves were close enough to track and he was stuck with a client. A shaking-in-her-brand-new-boots client.
The wolves were too close to civilization. He needed to know if they’d set up a den nearby or if they were merely visiting the area. No one from Bloo Moose would harm the wolves deliberately but tourists were always a risk. They wouldn’t necessarily understand the reintegration program. He’d have to figure out how to resettle the animals if they’d holed up nearby. The fresh snow would help, having the dogs around would mask his scent.
Only one problem. A terrified Myla.
City Girl had no idea how exciting this was. Or how important. He had to convince her to not freak out and blow his chances. Two decades ago, Sawyer’s dad had spearheaded the program in Vermont. Ensuring the wolves built a viable population had become more than a casual interest. It connected him to the dad he’d lost more than ten years before.
Sawyer identified—maybe a little too closely—with these animals that had been hunted almost to extinction. If they could make it maybe he had a chance of finding a place amongst his own kind one day as well. At the moment, it all seemed like a hell of a long shot.
Gunner squirmed. The poor guy was having a devil of a time not responding to the part of his blood that matched his buddies out there.
Two? Maybe more.
Myla appeared to be searching the clearing for either a means of escape or a place to hide. He mouthed the word, “Relax,” at her but she widened her eyes as if he’d told her to strip naked and make snow angels.
Shit. Not an image he needed burned in his brain.
Knowing the wind was blowing the wrong way and knowing he didn’t have a choice, Sawyer edged closer to her position. She waited quietly, eyes flicking between him and the woods where the wolves waited.
When he was near enough, she whispered. “You have to run. I’m too slow but you could boost me into a tree. They can’t climb trees, can they?”
He couldn’t decide whether to be pissed or impressed. Pissed, definitely pissed. “If there was a threat to your safety, do you seriously think I’d leave you and save my own ass?”
She shook her head sharply. “You’d come back with the snowmachine. The noise would scare them away, wouldn’t it?”
“Are you nuts?”
She waved that away. “I’d slow you down if we both try to run. You might get hurt. This way, we’d both be safe.”
Terrifyingly sensible. What the hell kind of life had she lived that she was so sure he would leave her alone with what she considered killer animals?
Sawyer cut off her whispered plans by taking her arms in his hands. Her eyes widened further, probably reacting to the zip that ran over his skin whenever they touched. It was like an elemental force and he knew she had to feel it, too.
“Listen. There’s no danger.” He ignored her snort. “You’re perfectly safe. Wolves aren’t dangerous unless attacked. Why would you think I’d abandon you if they were vicious? What kind of man do you think I am?” When she started to respond, he squeezed her arms. “We’ll discuss that later. For now, just stay here. I need to track the wolves.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What? Why? Are you crazy?”
Sawyer rubbed his hands up and down her arms and she clamped her lips together. She was trying so damn hard not to be terrified. “I’m not crazy. There’s zero danger here, Myla. I’d never leave you if that wasn’t true.”
A shudder ran through her at his words making him wonder again what she’d been through. “The wolves aren’t going to hang around long. I want to catch a glimpse of them, make sure they’re safe. Will you stay here, right here, until I get back? I won’t be long. Twenty minutes tops. It’s completely safe. It’ll give you time to rest up that leg before we head back.”
Myla flickered her eyes to the woods, to the dogs, to him and around again. Inside her mitts, her hands fisted and released. He forced himself to wait her out when he wanted to leave her behind and move.
After too many seconds when he could feel the wolves loping away, she nodded sharply. “Fine. Go.”
Relief flooded him, along with a touch of admiration. He’d seen a lot of bravery as a SEAL but this ranked up there. She truly believed he was abandoning her to ravaging wolves but she told him to go. Because he’d asked. He couldn’t decide if he should comfort her, laugh at her fears, tell her she was amazing, or walk away.
Her lips parted, either to tell him how she was planning on saving him this time or to tell him to hurry the hell up but before he realized his own intention, he lowered his head. When their lips were a whisper apart, he managed to stop. Just in time. Holy hell, that would have been a mistake.
It was a simple reaction to her bravery.
That’s all.
Sawyer ignored the scents of chocolate and peppermint tempting him to lean even further in and stepped back. Myla’s wide eyes fluttered from his own to his mouth and back. He wanted to kick himself.
Sawyer released her and stepped back, refusing to acknowledge the regret rippling through him. Dumb ass.
Apparently, he really did want to kiss her but he knew it would complicate the hell out of his world and he wasn’t going there.
Gunner whimpered, pulling Sawyer’s attention away from Myla. And knocking his brain into gear. Sawyer motioned Loco to his side, then tapped the dog’s muzzle. Then he pointed at Myla. “Protect. Loco, protect Myla.”
Gunner would be the better protector but he couldn’t leave him behind. The animal was more wolf than husky himself. There wasn’t any real danger but Loco would make City Girl feel safer.
He returned his attention to Myla. A terrified Myla who was working out plans to save his ass because she didn’t believe him about their safety.
The howls behind him almost had him bolting and leaving her there without another word. Gunner whimpered and quivered. Good excuse to get the hell away and straighten out his head.
“I’ve got to check this out. There’s no danger. I’ll be back.” Without giving her a chance to react or speak, Sawyer turned and fled with Gunner. Outwardly, he kept to a jog but inwardly he was running like hell.
Once he was under cover of the trees, his shoulders relaxed, he picked up the pace and let the dog take the lead.
She’d wanted to save him.
That was his job. A job he’d been damn good at once. Before he’d let his buddies die.
Now, this tiny woman didn’t think he was strong enough to protect her. Or even himself.
She might be right.
He’d almost kissed her. His legendary instincts had almost let him down again. The way his luck was going, the wolves would circle around and decide Myla would make a good snack.
Gunner slowed to check out some bushes, then sprinted off to follow a trail no human could identify. No tracks in the wind-whipped snow but Sawyer had no doubt they were closing in.
When they reached a rocky outcropping sticking up through the snow, the husky slowed and circled the rocks, sniffing. After long moments, he sat on his haunches and let out a howl that had Sawyer’s heart aching.
They sat in tableau for a long minute, before Gunner rose and paced the area, checking it all out with his nose again. He tried howling several more times but never received an answer.
Knowing the dog wouldn’t move past the line marked by the wolves as their territory, Sawyer crossed the outcropping and moved into the trees. He searched in all directions but couldn’t find any sign of wolves. No tracks. No howls. Nothing.
After several frustrating minutes, Sawyer returned to find Gunner laying on the ground, head on his front paws, looking like someone had stolen his best friend. He knelt beside the dog and ran his hands over him, trying to offer comfort. “We’ll find them, buddy. We’re not giving up after one try.”
Part of Sawyer wanted to head out into the woods and search on. Given another hour or so, he knew he’d be able to find something. Wolves were notorious for stopping to play. They rarely traveled quickly unless they were hunting.
He couldn’t go on without Gunner or leave City Girl in the clearing.
Nor could he go back in time and erase the almost kiss or forget the desire sizzling in her eyes. Obviously, he’d lost his mind. Anderson’s request to get him back into the world of guns and blood and death had twisted him up more than he’d thought.
Time to get back to reality. This time with his head in the game, not up his ass.
When they returned to the clearing, Loco lay on his back, feet in the air, while Myla rubbed his belly. Tongue hanging out to the side, the dimwit looked like he was in the seventh level of doggie heaven.
Myla’s eyes searched the woods behind him. No doubt searching for hordes of wolves on the attack.
“They’re long gone.” His voice was huskier than normal but she didn’t appear to notice.
Shoulders sagging with relief, she gave Loco one more belly rub then tried to shove to her feet. Her weak leg faltered and she ended up on her butt.
Loco bounced to his feet and licked her face while Gunner raced over to join the fun. City girl patted the dogs and laughed but she also used the moment to stretch her leg surreptitiously. It had stiffened in the time he’d left her in the clearing. More proof he wasn’t up to dealing with real people. He hadn’t even considered that aspect of her weakness when he’d taken off with the wolves.
At his whistle, the dogs backed off and Sawyer reached under her arms and lifted her to her feet. This time, he made sure to use the correct amount of force so she didn’t slam into his body. “Thanks but you didn’t need to, I could have gotten up myself.” Her gaze skittered to his lips and back up.
Because he wanted to yank her in and taste her, he released her and stepped away. No kissing. No thinking about kissing.
“Time to head back.” He turned toward the path they’d taken in, hoping she’d follow but not too closely. The last thing he wanted was a conversation and the woman loved to talk. She’d probably bring up the almost kiss. A kiss that hadn’t happened yet was absorbing him more than any kiss he could remember. His body was reacting to the idea of the kiss as if it was a damn memory.
Sawyer could hear her steps wobbling because her leg hadn’t loosened up. Probably should ask her but she’d likely snarl at him rather than open up. Or ask him a question in return and he wasn’t ready to give any answers. Not until he knew what those answers should be.