Page 6 of Holding the Line

“Yeah,” Eli said, voice sweet with sarcasm.“Only a few feet from the driveway.There’s just one little problem.There’s a very large, hot-as-hell man parked sideways in front of it playing Gandalf.”

There was a pause.Then Ezra screamed into the phone, “Marsh Clarkson, don’t you fucking dare pull this shit!”

The line went dead.

Eli stared at the screen.Then, grinned.Slowly.Triumphantly.

He looked back at the truck as he slid his phone back into his pocket.

The man inside looked like he was chewing glass.

Eli leaned in toward the window, casually.“You know, I probably just got you into a whole lot of trouble.”

Marsh scowled, but one corner of his mouth tugged up.“So, you think I’m hot, huh?”

Eli straightened.“Hot?Please.You’re just the kind of trouble I promised my therapist I’d stop collecting.”

Then a voice from his not-so-distant past came crashing in on him.His hand curled tight around his phone.

He remembered the Colonel’s voice, low and vicious.Flirting makes you weak.Makes people think they can get close.It is beneath you to speak in such outrageous invitation to strangers.

Eli swallowed hard.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he said, tone clipped.“I need this job.You’re just blocking the road.And I’ve had enough roadblocks lately to last me a lifetime.”

Before the man could respond, the screech of tires marked Ezra’s arrival.The man stormed up, face flushed, eyes blazing.

“Move the damn truck, Marsh.”Ezra snarled

Marsh, the hot guy in the truck had a name, didn’t argue.Just threw the Ram into reverse, backed up, and disappeared down the drive without another word.

Eli climbed into his car, jaw tight, chest aching for reasons that had nothing to do with cracked ribs.

He drove onto Obsidian Ridge, not sure whether he’d just won or lost something.

Chapter Two