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Chapter 13

Mila

“W hat is that?”

Jude, who’d just walked into the house wearing a huge grin, carried a cardboard box toward the kitchen island. After our argument last night, I’d agreed to stay near the house today. I had, but now I was itching to get back out there and find the phone.

Though I wanted to argue when he’d made me promise not to leave—I was not in the habit of obeying orders—I was wiped out after yesterday. So I settled in with one of the books Willa had lent me.

The story distracted me for a bit, but a few hours later, I was pulled back to the real world when Ripley got up and padded toward the front door. I straightened on the couch, listening for sounds outside the house, but heard none. A minute later, Jude’s truck pulled in, his tires crunching on gravel, and my heart leaped. My body wanted to jump up and greet him like an excited dog, but I forced myself to sit back, despite how thrilled I was that he was back so early.

The excitement was centered around getting out there and finding my phone. It had nothing to do with being excited to see him. Nope, not at all.

In journalism school, the instructors had driven objectivity into us. The ability to see all sides, to distance oneself, and to reject potential bias before it had a chance to form were some of the most important traits a journalist could possess. I was used to creating distance, to examining situations carefully.

But maintaining objectivity and appropriate emotional distance while trapped in a house with a sweet lumberjack twenty-four seven was virtually impossible.

Especially a sweet lumberjack wearing thick glasses and holding a large bakery box.

“Got you something.” He broke into a smile that would have made my knees weak if I were standing. “These scones are famous.”

At the word scones , I was on my feet, grabbing at the green box.

“The blueberry is a big deal. But I’m partial to the maple bacon.”

The pastries smelled like heaven. The anticipation of carbs and sugar hitting my bloodstream sent a zing of excitement through me.

Or maybe it was Jude’s proximity. Or the dimple barely visible beneath his beard.

He skirted around me and set the box down. Only then did I notice the cardboard tube he had tucked under one arm.

“I got you something else.” He cleared off one side of the island, then slid a piece of rolled-up paper from the cardboard tube.

“We have a large format printer at the office,” he explained, smoothing it out.

I snagged a scone and took a too-big bite as I circled the granite countertop. “Is this—”

“A topographical map. From the trailer park to here. This way we can plot out the route you took and use GPS coordinates, then make a search plan so we don’t miss anything.”

I scanned the map, then locked eyes with him. “This is brilliant.”

He grinned again. Damn. I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of that expression. He was so serious and stoic, his thick beard and glasses only adding to the facade. But when he smiled, his expression turned boyish and a bit naughty.

“I told you I could help. We’ve got to be smart about this. We’ll construct our search perimeter and then strategically comb the area.”

I smoothed my hand over the thick paper as hope swelled in my chest. I’d been running around like an idiot, searching with no plan and no sense of where I’d been. This was so much better.

“Thank you.” This entire thing was beyond logical, and yet here he was with his giant map and his plan, ready to help me.

He shrugged. “I told you—we’re in this together. But what if the phone is damaged?”

“I had a fancy case. Waterproof and shatterproof. Obviously that’s no guarantee, but it’s something.”

He nodded. God, I hoped this wouldn’t be a complete failure. It would be bad enough if I messed it all up on my own. I wasn’t sure I could live with myself if I dragged him into it with me and it was a bust.

“Let’s work through the path you took.” He held out a pencil. “Then we can prioritize the areas we’re more likely to find it, like where you had to crawl.”

I walked around the table, finishing my scone, and oriented myself. I took the pencil from him, and for several seconds, I studied the details of the map, taking in landmarks. Then, tentatively, I leaned over the island and plotted where I’d started, where I’d ridden the motorcycle, and where I’d entered the state forest.

It was difficult to tell, even with a detailed map, where I’d veered off the trail.

“We can drive over there tomorrow and use the app on my phone to record the coordinates of some of the spots you remember.”

“I do. I remember some of the rock formations and the trees. I can find my hiding spot again.” Eyes trained on the map, I circled the island, trying to recreate the feel of running through the forest.

“I think it was roughly around here.” I used my index finger to circle a small area. “But if I see it, I can be more precise. I haven’t been able to hike out that far yet.”

He covered my hand with his large, warm one.

It took willpower, but I did my best to ignore the small tinge of heat that shot through me.

“We’ll drive out tomorrow and retrace your steps.” He squeezed my fingers gently. “We’ll find it together.”

Affection surged through me. For so long, he’d lived in my memory as a sexy one-night stand. The cute musician I’d lusted over.

But over the last week, I’d seen so many sides of him, and my affection had grown exponentially. He was smart, curious, and caring. And the more time I spent with him, the more at ease I felt.

In my experience, words were cheap. Most people could say the right thing and even offer to help, but few would dive in the way he had. And it was rare to find a person who could match my intensity and not be scared off.

This moment was a simple one, but it felt as though he was showing me who he truly was. Someone who wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. A man who was not intimidated by me. A man who could handle me. All of me.

My cheeks heated under his scrutiny. Why had I come here? Yes, I needed the help, but why had my first instinct been to seek out this man I’d spent a single night with? And why did the help have to come with a side of orgasmic memories and sexy banter?

“Thank you.” I kept my focus on the map, feeling more hopeful than I had in the past week. “I really need the help.”

“Partners,” he said, holding out his hand.

I squeezed my eyes shut, digging deep for bravery.

“Yes.” I forced myself to zero in on him and slide my palm against his. There was no denying the rush of electricity I felt this time. The longer I stayed here, the less control I had. One of these days, our hair-brushing routine alone might be enough to cause an orgasm.

“But we need some ground rules,” I said, my tone harsher than I meant for it to be.

He squeezed my hand tighter and pulled me closer. “I happen to like rules, Trouble. Tell me what you need so we can get to work.”

At the flirtatious flash in his eyes, I jerked away. Boundaries. Yes. They were a necessity if I had any hope of surviving him.

I took another step back for good measure. When it came to scruffy lumberjacks, distance was always helpful.

“No more flirting,” I said, my pitch a little too high. “And you can’t mention the, uh…” I paused, sure I wouldn’t have to finish the sentence.

But his only response was to widen his eyes in question.

Dammit.

“You know.” I cleared my throat, my cheeks burning. “That we had sex.”

“So you want to ignore it?” He crossed his arms, which made his stupid biceps bulge and my core twinge.

“Yes!” I shouted.

He was way too calm and looked way too good. I couldn’t handle the teasing. “Wipe it from your memory. You want to work together, then we have to pretend there’s no sexy history between us.”

“Can’t do it.” He shook his head, chuckling.

“Jude,” I hissed. “Be serious.”

“I am serious. I told you I was all in. I told you that you could trust me. So what if we had sex multiple times and on multiple surfaces?”

I covered my face and groaned.

“And yes, it was fucking great,” he went on, uncaring that I was slowly dying of mortification. “But I’m a gentleman, Trouble. If it embarrasses you or bothers you, I won’t mention it. But I’m not gonna let you take those sexy memories away from me.”

I peered at him from between my fingers. This entire conversation had gone off the rails.

“I won’t do anything or say anything to make you uncomfortable. I promise.”

“I know that.” I dropped my hand. “You’ve been so good to me. Truly. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.”

He smirked. “This is important. And we need to trust each other.”

“Strangely, I do trust you,” I admitted. “Maybe it’s your awesome dog, or maybe because you’re a single guy who keeps hand soap in the bathroom. But you need to understand what you’re getting into with me.”

Hand held out, he took a step closer.

Despite my better judgment, I took it and gave it a firm shake, pushing away thoughts of how warm and strong his calloused palm felt.

“You have my word,” he said. “I will do whatever I can to help you, and I won’t let our sexual history get in the way.”

“Friends,” I declared, my stomach fluttering obnoxiously in his proximity.

It was the broadness of him, the way he took up space, that pulled me toward him. Or maybe it was his warmth and strength. As much as I’d like to step into his arms and let him comfort me, I needed to keep this friends boundary firmly in place.

“Can I get my friend more coffee?”

With a nod, I released him.

We got back to work, and while I used Google Earth to pull up images on his computer in order to better orient myself, he measured and calculated distances. After an hour or so, we had a decent search area mapped out and a plan for how we would get started.

We’d leave early tomorrow morning, when we’d have a lower chance of being seen, and drive as close as we could to the most likely spots. There, we’d comb carefully through the area, searching for the phone. It would take time, but the plan was far more strategic than running into the woods and stopping to look in places that seemed familiar.

The device was the definition of a needle in a haystack, but I was more hopeful than I’d been since I arrived.

He’d kept the flirtation to a minimum. Not that it helped much, since everything about Jude oozed sex appeal. I’d love to brush it off to hormones and broad shoulders, but it was more. He was smart, strategic, and invested.

The way he studied the map and asked questions was hotter than I could have imagined. I’d been working alone for so long that I’d forgotten how helpful it could be to have another person pushing me, questioning me, forcing me to be my best.

He stood up to stretch, making his T-shirt rise a few inches above his belt, revealing a sliver of taut, pale skin covered in a dusting of hair that took concerted effort to ignore.

“I need to get back to work, but tomorrow”—he pinned me with a look and tapped the map—“we’re doing this.” Before he could go on, his phone rang.

He dug it out of his pocket and quickly swiped the screen to answer. “Hey. Gus,” he said as he brought the device to his ear. “I’ll be back in a —”

His words cut off, and his face fell. In the next heartbeat, the blue of his irises was the color of a tumultuous storm.

“When? How many?”

He paced the room, silent, as Gus continued speaking. With every lap he made, his shoulders drew up farther and my stomach knotted more painfully.

At one point he closed his eyes and tipped his head back, as if asking for help from the heavens.

“Fuck,” he said again. “Yeah, I’ll stay here. No, she’s fine.”

He eyed me, and when the pity in his expression registered, my heart sank.

“Chloe did what?” He huffed. “Of course she did. Do you have a photo?”

He turned on his heel and headed the other direction again.

“Send it over. I don’t have the criminal file, but the pictures are in there, right?”

For a moment, he paused, and when there was a murmured response on the other end, he started up again.

“Okay, great.”

When he finally ended the call, he studied me from the other side of the island. The concern in his eyes made my breath catch.

“What’s going on?” I asked, anxiety rolling through me.

“I’m gonna stay here with you for the rest of the day.” He pulled his glasses off and cleaned them with the hem of his shirt, moving in a methodical circular motion. “We had some visitors over at the office.”

Dread joined the anxiety, the two sensations dueling to take over inside my body. “Visitors?”

“A group of bikers drove around the campus, looking in some of the outbuildings and the newly repaired machine shop.”

I clutched my good hand to my chest. “Oh shit.”

“A couple of them walked around the property, taking photos and trying to get into locked buildings. Chloe went out there and threatened to have them arrested for trespassing. They left without much fuss, but she’s shaken up.”

“Did she recognize any of them?”

He pressed his lips together as he slid his glasses into place again. “Gus is getting the security footage. He’ll send it over. Maybe you can ID some of them. Chloe mentioned seeing that tattoo on more than one of them.”

I frowned. “The tattoo I mentioned to Parker?”

Chin dipped, he hummed. “Last year, a couple of guys followed her. Harassed her a little. They had this distinctive tattoo. He’s gonna send me a picture. The guy they arrested for arson had ink on his arm. What do you want to bet it’s the same design?”

He bent at the waist, petting Ripley, who’d been hovering close since the moment Gus called, sensing Jude’s distress.

Nausea clawed up my throat. Were they looking for me? Or trying to start trouble?

“It’s likely.” I sighed. “But damn. Do the jackasses really think they can ride around and intimidate people?”

He laughed. “Guess so. Not that intimidating Chloe is an easy feat.”

“Sorry.” I squeezed my eyes shut, staving off a wave of tears. Chloe and Gus had a baby. These people had lives and families, all of which were being disrupted because of me.

“I need that phone, Jude.” A tear crested my lashes. “I need to find it and figure out what they’re planning.”

“They’re out and about today, which means it’s too dangerous for us to hunt for it. But first thing tomorrow, we’ll load up, and we won’t stop until we find it. These assholes are threatening my family, and we’re gonna take them down.”

The determination in his eyes stole the breath from my lungs. I’d only seen those flames once before, and it was when he’d had his head between my thighs. Turned out this mild-mannered lumberjack had some fire after all.