“Here, put this on.”
Standing with Cat on the edge of the sidewalk outside the bar, Michael Brant slid his jacket from his shoulders and extended it to her. For early June, it was a balmy night, warmer than usual, and the sky was clear. A perfect night for a ride. The town was quiet; the only noise came from the pounding music behind them.
“In case we crash.” Cat eyed his jacket as he closed the small distance between them, and although she offered a teasing smile, a distinct hint of fear sparked in her eyes.
Beautiful jade eyes framed by long, dark lashes that made her appear every bit as exotic as the scent clinging to her skin. Subtle yet powerful all the same, the fragrance reminded him of warmed spices. Something about it made him want to bury his face in her neck.
That scent and those eyes. He’d been hooked the minute she turned around on that barstool. Instead of heading to the back of the club to find his older brother, the way he’d intended, he hung around. He’d come to Roadie’s to get the low-down from Gabe before he had to head to the hospital in the morning. He wanted to know what he was walking into before he went to see his father. Then he’d collided with the unchecked desire in those gorgeous eyes. Had felt it in her kiss. He hadn’t been able to resist their temptation.
“You have a little too much skin showing for my taste.” As he swung the jacket around behind her and set it on her shoulders, he offered a reassuring smile. “’Course, it’d make me feel a lot better if you were wearing pants, but we’ll make do with what we’ve got.” He winked, hoping to set her at ease, earning himself a soft smile that lit up those eyes.
“If I’d known I was going for a ride with you when I left the house tonight, I might have worn jeans.” She shoved her arms through the sleeves, a conspiratorial sparkle in her eyes, then turned to his bike. Head bent, she walked the length from the rear fender to the front wheel, dragging her fingers along the hills and valleys of leather and metal.
Michael’s gut knotted as he watched her. The sight of her in his jacket tugged at something deep inside. It swamped her small, slender form and hung clear past her rump. Her hands had gotten lost in the sleeves, but it looked oddly right on her. Some part of him insisted he shouldn’t be here with her. He didn’t need any more complications right now. He’d come home to put his past to rest, and he didn’t need any distractions while he was here.
As Cat rounded the front fender and stepped off the curb into the street, she tossed a smile over her shoulder. “You have a nice bike, Michael.”
On anybody else, that look might have been an obvious flirt, a woman teasing, playing coy. On her it was simple and honest.
Which summed up what about her caught him like a fish on a hook. She had a sweet, innocent quality about her. Most women would have decked that guy in the bar, but Cat appeared to be out of her element. He’d bet money she was loyal and soft-hearted, the kind of woman a man found waiting for him when he came home at night. Whatever her motive for being here with him, she didn’t appear to be playing games. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had been straight up with him. Which made her irresistible.
He folded his arms across his chest. “Thanks. I’m fond of her.”
Cat had a slow, easy gait as she moved around the back of the bike, still trailing her fingers. His gaze riveted to the gentle sway of her hips, the way the light material of her skirt swirled around her delicate ankles. She walked with fluid grace, each step light and smooth and completely mesmerizing. He’d be quite satisfied to stand here and watch her pace the sidewalk.
“So, how’s a guy like you get his hands on a bike like this, anyway?” Coming full circle, she rounded the rear fender and stepped up onto the curb, stopping a few feet in front of him. “Looks custom. Bikes likes these aren’t cheap.”
Michael couldn’t stop his stupid grin. Cat had to be the only person in Crest Point who didn’t seem to have any idea who he was. A fact he found entirely too alluring. He craved anonymity, for someone to see him through new eyes without pre-conceived ideas. He hadn’t anticipated finding that in Crest Point. The last time he was here, people shunned him. People with broken hearts who still blamed him for a horrible tragedy. Hell, he still blamed himself.
Cat just looked at him like a man. With her, he could be himself, disconnected from his family’s name and the past that haunted him. Even if it was only a few precious hours, he wanted to revel in the time he had with her.
“You know this how?” He cocked a brow as he leaned around her to pluck his helmet from where it hung off the handlebars. His body brushed hers, her slender curves pressing lightly along his length from her chest down to her thighs.
It was a closeness he knew she noticed as well, for her widened eyes searched his. Her breathing hitched, her chest rising and falling at an increasingly rapid pace. Twice her gaze dropped to his mouth, her tongue slipping out to wet her lower lip.
“My mom dated a guy who owned a bike shop.” Her voice came out breathy and distracted as she peered at him.
“The same one who crashed?” He straightened, forced himself to take a step back, before he startled them both by kissing her again. The first time had been a playful tease. She’d captured his attention, and he’d pressed his luck. He hadn’t expected her to respond, to kiss him back.
She had built a yearning deep in his gut to taste her again. To feel her moan and lean into him, wrap her body around his. She reminded him too well how long it had been since he last held a woman. God, how he missed the feel of soft, feminine curves against him while he slept. And here she was, staring up at him with a soft but no less potent desire in her eyes.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, for a moment looking every bit as leveled by the attraction as he felt. She cleared her throat and nodded, a stunning mixture of amusement and challenge sparking in her eyes. “So?”
“Would you believe me if I said I built it?” Accepting the challenge and tossing it back at her, he cocked a brow as he held the bike helmet out to her.
As she took the helmet, her gaze slid over him, to his feet and back up. “I could see that. You don’t have the hands of a mechanic, though. Too soft. I expected you to tell me you worked in some corporate office somewhere and that riding was a pastime.”
A laugh escaped him at the irony of her statement. His father wished he worked in a corporate office, had expected both his sons to come into the family business. That Michael not only hadn’t but worked with his hands like some unskilled laborer irked the old man to no end.
“Riding’s not a pastime. It’s a lifestyle.” He winked and stuffed his free hand into his pocket, fishing out his keys. “You could say I splurged. I built it ten years ago. Don’t need much, frankly. Give me a roof over my head and a bed to sleep on and I’m happy. The rest of the money I earned went into this bike.”
Okay, so that was mostly the truth. He owned a condo in L.A., furnished only with what he needed to live on, and everything he had, he’d earned himself. He left this town ten years ago with nothing more than the jacket on his back and the bike beneath him, determined to prove to his father—the town and himself—he wasn’t the screw-up everybody assumed him to be. He purposely left out the wealth he’d amassed in the last ten years. He’d built his company from the ground up and had done rather well for himself.
None of which he wanted her to know. At least not now, not tonight. Tonight he simply wanted to be himself.
“A simple man.” Her expression softened; warmth radiated from her eyes.
“Mm.” He slid around her and stepped up to the bike, mounting it and releasing the kickstand before looking over at her.
She remained frozen on the sidewalk, the helmet tucked under one arm. Uncertainty flashed in the depths of her eyes. Her expression left him caught. It dragged up a protectiveness he hadn’t felt in years. He had an overwhelming desire to take her in his arms and soothe her fear. Yet while he knew her fear was likely aimed at his bike, it reminded him too much of the looks he garnered walking through town ten years ago. The expression lodged in his gut as being all kinds of wrong and made him more determined to wipe it from her eyes permanently. Earning her trust suddenly became very important.
“I can take you home if you like. Or call you a cab. The choice is yours.”
“Where are we going?”
His house immediately popped into his mind. “I have a place out on the beach. It’s quiet and peaceful, but it’s dark and the place is private, so I’ll understand if you decide you’d rather go home.”
She fingered the chinstrap on the helmet for a moment. “Should I be afraid of you?”
His gut knotted. He didn’t want her to leave, didn’t want to take her home. He wanted to spend the night reveling in those beguiling eyes, but the choice had to be hers and hers alone. “No. I’m as harmless as they come. I don’t even kill spiders, and I hate the little buggers. You shouldn’t take my word for it, though. Women get hurt all the time in L.A. falling for lines like that.”
She quirked a brow, amusement lighting her eyes. “A man who’s afraid of spiders?”
He grinned. That she chose to focus on his fear of spiders spoke volumes.
“Can’t stand ’em. They give me the creeps. With their million legs and furry little bodies.” In spite of himself, a shiver ran the length of his spine.
Apparently she caught the reaction because her smile widened. “How do you get them outside without touching them?”
“Trap ’em in a jar. Vacuum works in a pinch, too.” He winked.
She laughed, the sound light, airy, and music to his ears. With a stubborn lift of her chin, she plunked the helmet on her head and fastened the chinstrap, those eyes flashing. “I don’t want to go home yet.”
He twisted at the waist and patted the seat behind him. “Take a walk on the wild side with me.”
She gripped handfuls of her skirt and Michael’s gaze glued to the movement. Inch by inch she hiked the soft, flowing material above her knees, revealing shapely calves and the bottom halves of taut thighs. Her skin was untouched by the sun, creamy and smooth. As she swung one gorgeous leg over the bike and sank onto the seat behind him, he tightened his grip on the handlebars to keep from reaching out and stroking her thigh.
When her hands circled his waist, he swallowed hard. The thought of those sleek, bare thighs resting against his backside had his body aching and tensing in a most primal way.
He shoved the key into the ignition, then glanced back over his shoulder at her. “Hold on tight and lean with me into the turns.”
She nodded. The delicious feel of her warm body filled his back, and he was distinctly aware of her breasts pressed against him. The woman tempted him, like candy offered to a kid, and damned if he could resist, no matter how much he knew he ought to.
Twenty minutes later, Michael pulled into the short, gravel driveway in front of the darkened two-story house. The place sat at the edge of town in a neighborhood consisting of maybe a dozen homes, all lining a two-mile long stretch of beach. The Pacific Ocean rolled for miles beyond.
As he cut the engine, Cat’s breathless voice purred in his ear. “That was incredible.”
He didn’t need to see her face to know a grin went along with her enthusiastic tone. He shot a smile over his shoulder. It had been a quiet ride, with her simply clinging to his back. The night was warm, the sky clear, making for a beautiful trip. Reluctant to relinquish the feeling, he’d been tempted to take the back roads around the outskirts of town. Too bad the gravelly roads were filled with sharp curves. Combined with the fact her skirt left her skin unprotected, he hadn’t wanted to take the chance.
“I forgot what a rush that is.” She released his waist, slid from the bike, and pulled off the helmet. His momentary disappointment evaporated as quickly as it came when she handed it to him, then tipped her head back and ran her slender fingers through her hair. The way he longed to.
She turned then and all but skipped up the gravel driveway, a childlike gait that had him smiling, in spite of himself.
He folded his arms across his chest and watched her for a moment. That look right there would make his entire stay in Crest Point worth every minute. He wanted to make her smile like that again—and often.
She stopped halfway up the driveway, tipped her head back, and held her arms out, as if offering her thanks to the sky. “The roar of the engine in my ears, nothing but us and the road.”
“I won’t say I told you so.” He hung the helmet off the handlebars.
She brought her head up. The flirtatious sparkle in her eye made his heart skip a beat. A breath later, she turned away, slowly scanned their surroundings. “Is this your house?”
He extracted the key and tucked it into his right pocket, then slid off the bike and strolled up behind her.
“Yeah. I stay here while I’m in town. Come on. There’s a great view of the sky from the beach.” He jerked his head in the direction, a hundred yards or so in front of them, and began walking farther up the driveway. Cat fell in step beside him.
“It’s a beautiful place.” Her voice held a hushed, awed tone as he led her past the house and out onto the lawn.
He made a sound of agreement at the back of his throat and scanned the long, rectangular yard spread out before him. He loved this place for the view alone, but he’d bought it before all hell broke loose. Way back when he was cocky enough to think the world was his oyster.
“That’s why I like it out here.” Shaking off the oppressive thoughts, he offered her a gentle smile. “I’m a quiet, peaceful kind of guy.”
“I sensed that about you.” An echoing smile eased across her face, warmth in her eyes.
As they came to a stop where the grass tapered off and the sand began, silence enveloped them. He was all too aware of her beside him and way too aware of the fact they were now alone. The same awareness echoed in her eyes and the tension rose, fine and sweet, between them.
“I’ll go get a blanket.”
He touched her arm before heading around her and into the house. After retrieving a red plaid blanket from a closet, he rejoined her on the beach and spread it out on the sand.
She smiled, and he was caught for a moment in those beguiling eyes. His body vibrated with the memory of hers pressed against him, the feel of her in his arms. The same emotion echoed back at him and the air between them charged. A nervous blush stole across her cheeks.
She tilted her face to the sky, effectively breaking the spell. “You’re right. The view’s fantastic.”
She gripped the edges of his jacket, ran the soft, worn leather between her fingers and shrugged out of it. She peeked over at him, desire and shyness in her eyes, then sank onto the blanket with all the ease and grace he’d come to expect from her, smoothing her skirt beneath her as she went. After setting his jacket to her left, she slipped off her shoes, then leaned back on her hands. “You don’t see a clear sky like this in Seattle much. It’s usually covered with clouds.”
“So does that mean you didn’t grow up in Crest Point?” He sank to the sand beside her, entirely too aware of her. Of every move she made. Every breath and sigh. It all made him more and more aware of how beautiful she was, with her hair blowing back off her neck in the gentle breeze, her skin glowing in the moonlight. It had been a long time since a woman mesmerized him, but there was something about Cat.
“Well, technically, I was born here. We left when I was twelve. Mom and I moved back the end of my junior year in high school. About nine years ago.” She stretched her legs out in front of her, burying her toes into the sand. The bliss crossing her shadowed features captured him.
“So that would make you, what, twenty-five?” The breeze caught the ends of her hair, blowing out behind her, and Michael had the sudden yearning to feel it brush his chest.
“Mm-hmm.” Her amused smile melted from her face as she turned her head and caught him watching her. She stilled, as if caught by the same thing that held him bound. A flare of desire sparked between them, hot and tangible.
He was entirely too aware of how desperately he yearned to taste her mouth again. Aware that the neighbors were few and far between out here, and most of them had gone to bed hours ago. His mind taunted him with the heady knowledge that under the cover of darkness, nobody could see them. He could make love to her in the cool sand, with nothing but the sky above them and her warm skin beneath him. He’d bet money her skin was as smooth as spun silk.
A flush slid across her cheeks, soft and alluring, and she lowered her gaze to her lap, peeking up at him from beneath her lashes. The look soft. Alluring. Tempting. “How old are you?”
“Old enough to know better, but still young enough to do it again.” He leaned back on his hands and offered her a playful wink.
The sweet tension of the moment broke as she let out a laugh—a quiet, husky sound that washed over him like a heated caress and made his chest swell in triumph. Hearing it made him smile in spite of himself. God, how he loved that sound. There was something so honest about it.
“Now how’d I guess you’d say something like that?” Her eyes twinkled in the moonlight, flirtatious but distinctly playful as she tossed his tease back at him.
He couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him. “I’m thirty.”
“An older man.” Her eyes narrowed and she sat silent for a moment, studying him. “Somehow that only adds to the whole dark and dangerous mystique you’ve got going on.”
The thoughtful tone of her voice told him the statement was an innocent one, merely an observation. More than that, however, the comment made him wonder what she saw when she looked at him. Most people only saw his family’s name and money.
“Dark and dangerous?” He arched a brow.
She nodded and waved a finger at him, gesturing from his head to his black boots.
“The dark colors, the leather jacket, the bike.” Knowledge glimmered in the depths of her eyes, as if she spoke from experience. She leaned toward him, supporting herself on one hand. “Are you a thrill-seeker, Michael? Or just a drifter?”
Her closeness had her breaths blowing across his mouth in short bursts of warm, enticing air. The way his name rolled off her tongue got him—soft and sultry in an innocent kind of way but torturous all the same. If he listened hard enough, he could almost hear her moan his name in the heat of the moment.
He wasn’t the only one who noticed the closeness, for she stilled beside him. Her chest rose and fell at an increased pace. An alluring mix of desire and shyness filled her gaze as it flicked to his mouth. The air between them charged, a pull so intense it was all he could do to stop himself from leaning in.
“Neither. I’m just me.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, caressed over the full bottom lip, the need to taste her again pounding through him. “I don’t get off on adrenaline rushes.”
“What do you get off on then?” Her voice drifted to him on the breeze, quiet and husky.
He stifled a groan but couldn’t resist the urge to touch her, so he reached out, stroking his fingers over her chin. His thumb grazed her bottom lip, delighting in the soft hitch in her breathing and the way her mouth fell open. “How it is you’ve already figured me out? Am I that transparent?”
“No.” She shook her head slightly, her tone every bit as distracted as he felt. “My mother was a drifter. We moved around a lot when I was growing up.”
Her soft confession stunned him, and he dropped his hand but couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Despite knowing he’d never seen her before—and he was pretty sure he knew almost everyone in town—he would’ve guessed she spent her entire life here. She had the small town look about her, like she belonged here, and that thought only made him that much more curious.
“You’re a surprise at every turn. You’d think growing up that way would’ve warned you against guys like me.”
“Guys like you?”
His heart pounded at what he knew he had to tell her next. He didn’t know her from Eve, but he had no desire to be the one to put more disappointment in her beautiful eyes.
“Yeah. I left town ten years ago, determined never to come back, and I don’t plan on staying long.”
Her brows rose in disbelief, and she pulled back. “You’re from Crest Point?”
“Born and raised.” He flashed a half-smile. “Why is that surprising?”
Her eyes slid slowly over his face then stopped on his mouth. Oh, he knew that’s what she stared at. He felt it through every pore in his body. When she caught him noticing, her gaze skittered away and she turned back to the water. “I don’t know. You seem like a drifter. Like you’re breezing through this town on your way to somewhere bigger.”
“Actually, you’d almost be right. I really have nothing that roots me here, makes me want to stay.”
What he couldn’t bear to tell her was he spent the past ten years running from the pain of the memories. This town was the last place he wanted to be. Here the memories were stronger, more vivid. The pain more acute. Every scornful look from the townspeople—from his father—only increased the guilt that sat hard and cold in his gut for too many years now. It had been there so long it had become an old friend, something he was sure he’d take to his grave. He didn’t want to know if she’d ever heard of him, if she’d ever heard the story, what she thought about any of it.
Cat turned her gaze to him, one delicate brow arched. “What about your family?”
He chuckled. “You’re a very intuitive woman, you know that?”
She gave a nonchalant shrug. “You’re easy to read. You’re very open.”
He shook his head.
“The funny part is, I’m not this open with anyone else.” He paused, his voice lowering, softening with the emotion that swelled in his chest. “There’s just something about you that keeps pulling things out of my mouth I’m not even sure I ought to be telling you. You’d be right there, too. My father’s in the hospital. He suffers from congestive heart failure, and he’s had a bit of a setback.”
Maybe it was the quietness of the night. Maybe it was the soft feminine feel of her beside him or the way she seemed to accept him at face value. Whatever it was, the effortlessness that sat between them caught him. It should have warned him to turn and run, and yet the words flowed off the tip of his tongue.
“My father and I don’t get along. My whole life it’s been war between us. He has high expectations I don’t seem to be able to live up to. Nothing I did ever seemed right, and I had a chip on my shoulder as big as this entire state. If he couldn’t accept me the way I was, then I was determined to be everything he hated.” He released a heavy breath, regret settling like a rock in his gut. “But he’s sick, and I’ve grown up. I’m tired of running from my past. I came back to make peace with him before he dies. The sad part is, I’ve tried this once before. I came back two years ago, but it didn’t end well.”
It was one of his biggest regrets. He came back to make amends and had instead let old wounds resurface and get in the way.
“What happened?” A soft curiosity filled her gaze, her face open, no judgment in the depths of her eyes, and once again it called to him like a beacon. While some part of him told him he shouldn’t say it, the words spilled from his mouth anyway.
“It went the way it always did. We argued, I said things I shouldn’t have, decided my father hadn’t changed a bit, and nothing would ever change, and walked out.”
The same way he had ten years ago.
He heaved a sigh, aimlessly drawing circles in the sand with the tip of his finger. “Now it just seems . . . childish. I allowed wounded pride to get in the way. If I don’t make amends now, I may never get another chance.”
Yet another regret to add to the pile already heaped on his soul. He couldn’t do it anymore.
“I’m sorry.” She reached over and laid a hand on his arm. “Does he have much time left?”
The touch surprised him. The warmth of her hand on his skin soothed a ragged nerve within him that he found comforting and disturbing at the same time. Ease settled around him like a warm fire on a cold night.
He shrugged a shoulder. “Nobody really knows. From what I hear, he’s as well as can be expected. My father’s very goal-oriented. A retired Marine. He hates not being able to do anything and hates being treated like an invalid even more. From what my brother tells me, he’s driving the nurses at the hospital crazy.”
The soft concern in her eyes wrapped around him and settled deep in his core. The emotion made Michael long for things he knew he shouldn’t, things he’d long ago given up on ever having. Their gazes caught and held; that fine, sweet tension settled between them again.
He lifted a hand, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, remembering the silky feel of it sifting through his fingers when he kissed her earlier. “Tell me something. What exactly are you doing out here with me?”
It was a bold question, one that put her on the spot, but he had to know where he stood.
A soft pink flush suffused her cheeks. “Caught red-handed. Truth is, I don’t really know. I’m kind of making it up as I go along.” She turned to face the water. Her voice softened, became almost pensive. “Have you ever wanted to step outside yourself, stop giving a damn what everyone thinks or what they’ll say, and just be who you’ve always wanted to be?”
Another something in common. “I had to go all the way to L.A. to find that.”
She glanced at him. “The town gets to me sometimes. I’ve spent my entire life playing the part of the wallflower, always keeping to myself, praying I’d blend in, that no one would notice me. Trying not to give anyone a reason to look too closely.”
That she felt comfortable enough to tell him that touched a soft spot deep inside of him. A place he’d walled off so long ago he’d forgotten it existed.
“The busybodies.” He nodded. He understood that more than she knew, more than he could or wanted to tell her. “I used to do exactly the opposite.”
“Somehow I’m not surprised.” Amusement flitted through her eyes, fading as quickly as it came. Something softer, more intense, slipped between them, calling to him like a Siren’s song. “Why’d you kiss me?”
Her soft question surprised him, and for a moment, he fumbled for an answer. It didn’t escape his notice, either, that her gaze drifted to his mouth again. This time it stopped there. Her tongue darted out and swept over her bottom lip in a distracted fashion. It was all he could do not to lean over and claim those lips again. The supple feel of them against his own shuddered through the recesses of his memory.
In the end, he decided on honesty. “Because you turned around on that stool and gave me a look I’d seen before.”
Her gaze shifted to his. “Which was?”
“Like you weren’t sure if you should be afraid of me or not.”
A soft flush slid into her cheeks. “You’re not a small man. You must be what, six two? Six three?”
He grinned. “Six three.”
“And you were standing there all dressed in black and leather with this mischievous glint in your eye that dared anybody to judge you.” She paused, glanced at the sand between them, then peeked at him through lowered lashes. “It was very sexy.”
Heat slid through him. A raw, aching need curled in his gut, to peel away her clothing and wrap his body around hers.
“I could ask you the same question.” He reached out and cupped her cheek in his palm. “Why’d you kiss me back? I hadn’t expected it. That you did was the entire reason I sat down beside you.”
Her eyelids fluttered closed and her mouth fell open, a ragged, whisper-soft exhalation escaping her lips. A moment later, her eyes opened, filled with a desire so tangible, it lit a fire in his belly that spread like a raging inferno through his system.
“I couldn’t help myself.” Her voice was low, soft, vulnerable, like she admitted something she wasn’t sure she ought to be telling him, either. “You’re a very good kisser.”
Her words settled into his core, and everything inside of him tightened and ached. He shouldn’t get involved while he was here. The last thing he wanted was another broken heart on his conscience when he left town in a month. He’d done it one too many times. He’d been a lot of things over the years, some of them rotten to the core, but having to break someone’s heart wasn’t something he was fond of. Two years ago, when yet another relationship ended badly, he decided he couldn’t do it anymore. The flings that once kept him sane had lost their appeal.
Yet, here he found himself. Cat’s effect on him confounded him.
“What if I said I wanted to kiss you again?” Unable to help himself, he swept his thumb along her lower lip, the need to touch her, to feel its suppleness again, too strong to deny.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and she drew in a quiet, shuddering breath that seemed to vibrate through her entire body. Her chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. The moonlight caressed her face, highlighted her flushed cheeks, her heavy eyelids.
A breath later, she opened her eyes. For a moment, something hot and tangible filled the space between them. She seemed every bit as leveled by this as he felt. As if they’d been swept away by something more powerful than the ocean tides and were helpless to stop it.
Breaking eye contact, she rose to her feet and strolled in the direction of the dock a few yards away.
His desire throbbed in his ears. His body ached with need and strained painfully against his zipper. He could do little more than stare after her, watching the sultry sway of her hips.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m hot. I want to dip my feet in the water.” When she shot a coy smile over her shoulder, an enticing “come get me” look, a sound that was half laugh, half groan escaped him.
With a shake of his head, he shed his boots and socks, then took off at a jog to catch up with her.