Page 4 of Denim & Diamonds

“No, I must’ve missed that module, along with the taxidermy lesson. I guess you’re just a whole lot smarter than me, Lumberjack.”

He grinned. “I take it your ladder is safely in place tonight, if you snuck out?”

“Yes. Rest assured, no other man’s shoulders will be corrupted.”

The low rumble of his unexpected laughter vibrated through me. “Well, that’s good. Lucky me.”

We stood facing each other. “I left your shirt and notebook with the bartender on duty.” I crossed my arms. “By the way, why did you write that I was silly ?”

“Thanks for invading my privacy.”

“I couldn’t help it. It fell out of your pocket, and I didn’t know what it was.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Why am I silly?”

“Because only a silly woman would put herself in the situation you did last night. I could be an ax murderer for all you know.”

“No, you couldn’t, with your little acts of kindness. You just look like one.” I scratched my chin. “Actually, if you murdered those animals on your wall, maybe you are.”

“I didn’t kill those animals. I just wanted you to think I did.”

“ Someone killed them.”

“It wasn’t me. I inherited those heads.” He frowned. “Why did you read my notebook?”

“Because I’m nosy.” I tilted my head. “What’s the deal with those entries anyway?”

He placed his hand on my arm, leading me away from the road. “There’s a car coming. Come sit over here, off the road.”

We moved to a rock in a grassy area a few feet away. The dog rested on the ground between us.

“Those notes are personal,” he said. “But since you chose to butt your nose into my business, I record one good deed a day, yes.”

“Why?”

“It’s something my grandfather taught me.

My mother’s father. My dad wasn’t around much growing up.

Gramps helped raise me. He used to keep a record just like mine in a similar notebook.

He’d always say, if a person could perform one good deed a day, that would cancel out any bad things he might’ve done. ” Brock shrugged.

“So it’s like a superstition?”

“Maybe a little. But that would be silly , wouldn’t it?” He winked. “Anyway, I figure there’s no harm in making an effort to contribute to society one bit at a time. Recording one good deed a day helps keep me accountable. That’s all.”

“Well, that’s impressive. Although, from what I hear, you have enough fans around here as it is. You’re big shit around these parts. You have panties dropping left and right.”

He arched a brow. “You have the nerve to bring up panties dropping after what you put me through this morning?”

When he smiled, it made my heart flutter. But soon enough Mr. Grumpy returned .

His forehead crinkled. “Where are you getting this intel about me, anyway?”

“I have my ways…” I teased.

“Spill, Red.”

I laughed. “Hank the Gossip Bank?”

Brock growled. “Great.”

He suddenly stood and pulled on the dog’s leash. “Come on.”

I thought he was talking to Oak, but then he turned and gestured for me to get up. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“To my truck so I can drive you back to your place.”

“No way.” I shook my head. “I’m done playing damsel in distress. And I don’t need a big lug to climb tonight since I made sure George was gonna leave me the ladder.”

“It’s not safe for you to be walking home this late.”

“If you can walk out here this late, so can I.”

“I’m a giant man with a giant dog. You’re a tiny woman with no goddamn phone and for all I know, no fucking underwear.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll have you know, I am wearing them tonight. Although, I considered sticking them in your flannel pocket as a token of my appreciation. But something told me your grumpy butt wouldn’t have appreciated it. You might have thought that was a bit silly , so…”

“What is silly is you trying to disregard real danger, just to prove a point.”

I pointed my index finger at him. “Oh, I know what this is. You must not have a good deed for the day yet. That’s why you want to drive me home. ”

“My good deed today is refraining from throwing your ass over my shoulder right now and walking you to my truck.” He exhaled. “And why don’t you have a damn coat on if you’re walking a mile?”

“How silly of me…” I grinned mischievously, enjoying this exchange a little too much. “Actually, that was an easy mistake. I wore your flannel on the way here and hadn’t accounted for the fact that I wouldn’t have it on the return trip.”

His voice softened a bit. “You’re really not gonna let me drive you home? I think that’s dumb.”

My teeth chattered. “I’m already halfway there. It makes no sense to walk back with you only to have you drive me. I’ll be fast. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Let me walk you then,” he insisted.

“No, please don’t.”

“Why are you really here in Meadowbrook?” he asked. “What are you running from?”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me why your girlfriend left town.”

Brock grumbled something under his breath.

After a long moment of silence, he took off the plaid flannel he was wearing.

I held up my palm. “I don’t want it.”

“Take it, Red. Don’t be stupid. It’s cold.”

“You are the grumpiest man I’ve ever met.” I chuckled as I gave in, gladly wrapping his warm shirt around me. It smelled a bit different than the last one, still woodsy and delicious, though.

“Be careful,” he warned. “I’d tell you to call me when you get there, but you have no damn phone.”

“I’ll howl into the night.” I giggled. “Even better, I’ll send your dead heads a telepathic message that I got there safely. ”

“Dead heads? Like Grateful Dead?”

“I’m talking about your stuffed deer and moose.”

“Oh,” he muttered.

“You’re a little slow tonight, Brock. Must be the cold air freezing your brain.”

“The only thing freezing my brain tonight is the city girl who thinks it’s safe to walk on the side of a dark country road with no phone, no jacket, and—I don’t care what you say—probably no goddamn underwear. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t turn into roadkill.”

I walked backward away from him. “Tell you what…if that happens, you can have first dibs on hanging me on your wall, Lumberjack.”

He shook his head. “Watch your ass, crazy woman. And hurry home.”

Heeding his advice, I did add some pep to my step as I took off. He wasn’t wrong at all about the dangers of walking late at night. But somehow the prospect of seeing him had seemed worth the risk. To be honest, I was pretty sure Brock Hawkins was the most dangerous thing on this road.

I made it back to Sierra safely, wishing there was a way I could let him know I was okay.

As I reluctantly removed his cozy shirt so I could take a shower before bed, something fell out of the pocket. How had I not felt this earlier?

I bent to pick it up.

No way.

His phone.