Page 16 of Chasing the Sun

My shoulders tensed as my eyes closed and I sighed.

Great.

Either the raccoons had learned how to work a light switch or some idiot was ghost hunting. Again.

After starting my laundry, I grabbed the wooden bat I kept by the side entrance and headed across the yard into the darkness. A breeze coming off Lake Michigan carried the scent of summer. If the clouds would only move out, it would have made for a beautiful, star-filled summer sky.

I stared at the dilapidated cottage. The flimsy curtains were drawn tight, but there didn’t seem to be any movement inside. The worn-out porch creaked under my boots as I circumvented the hole I had created earlier in the week.

I knocked.

Nothing.

But I knew better than to trust silence. Silence was just the pause before all hell broke loose.

Another knock, harder this time. “Hey,” I called. “You’re trespassing.”

Still nothing.

I sighed and tried the doorknob. Unlocked.

Fantastic.

I pushed it open, bat at the ready—and something shrieked, a horrible inhuman sound.

Then something collided with my chest.

Soft, warm, and tangled around me in a way that should not feel as good as it did. Bare, feminine legs locked around my thighs, the faint scent of vanilla and something else—something deeper—drifted between us. It was the kind of scent that got under a man’s skin.

Dangerous.

From the collision, I lost my footing and slammed backward through the doorway as the bat clattered on the floor and rolled away. I landed on my ass with a woman on top of me—legs flailing, hands gripping my shoulders, a knee dangerously close to my balls.

“What the hell?” I grunted as my military instincts took over, locking my hands around her biceps to keep her from tearing me apart.

“Oh my god! Let me go, you psychopath! You just broke into my house!” the woman shrieked.

I blinked up at a pair of wild green eyes—furious, untamed, and way too pretty for someone currently trying to strangle me. The woman straddling me was an absolute stunner with wavy brown hair, wild from sleep, and she had a death grip on the collar of my T-shirt.

She smelled like exotic vanilla and pure trouble.

And I did not need to be noticing that.

I bucked my hips up slightly, trying to move out fromunder her, and my traitorous cock took note. “I didn’t break in.Youare trespassing.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I live here,” she hissed. My hand flexed against her biceps, heat curling up my spine before I shoved it down.

Nope. Not happening.

The woman ripped her arm out of my grasp and slapped a hand on the floor beside me as she tried to climb off.

My stomach dropped as I sat up. “What?”

“I. Live. Here.” She flicked a rogue strand of hair out of her face and stood above me, arms crossed. “Who areyou?”

A soft glow from the lamp was warm on her skin. She was dressed in an oversize T-shirt and tiny shorts, her skin practically glowing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a woman, rumpled and sleepy, in nothing more than a flimsy pair of pajamas.

My hand flexed at the thought of exploring every inch of that creamy skin. Irritated at myself and her, I bit back a growl.