Chapter Seven

I flinched as the truck’s tires skidded to a halt, dust swirling in the air as the engine revved in reverse. My heart was still stuck in my throat when he parked and hopped out of the cab, his boots hitting the gravel with a crunch.

“Hey,” he called out, walking toward me. “Are you okay?”

He hesitated when he realized it was me standing there, staring at him. My mouth dropped open, but I couldn’t think of what I wanted to say. Did I want to yell at him? Did I want to tell him I was fine? Did I want to tell him to get the fuck away from me?

He shook his head, pushing his hand through his thick hair. “I didn’t see you there… my mind is on other shit. I am so sorry about that. I didn’t mean to?—”

“Attempt to murder me?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” he said, glancing back at his truck. “I wasn’t that close.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to look more composed than I felt. “You nearly turned me into roadkill, Mr. Black.” My voice came out steadier than I expected, considering my knees were still wobbly from the near-miss.

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?” he asked, looking genuinely apologetic. It was just too bad the big ass rubbed me the wrong way.

“It’s… whatever,” I said, shaking my head as I started away from him toward my house.

“Let me give you a ride home. It’s the least I can do,” he offered as he followed a few steps behind me.

I let out a short laugh. “No offense, but I feel safer walking than getting in a big truck with someone who doesn’t pay attention to where he’s going. Kids live out here, you know.”

“To be fair, people aren’t usually out walking on country roads,” he said, his eyebrows drawing together. “Adults or children.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t watch where you’re going,” I fired back. “There could be animals, other vehicles... or whatever. Apparently, there is a lot of wildlife out here.”

“You’re right,” Ryder said, shoulders slumping a bit. “I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

For a moment, I almost believed him.

“Look,” I said, letting out a breath. “Just go. You’re a busy man and all that. I’m covered in dust, and I swallowed a pebble, but I’m fine.”

“You did not,” he said, stepping in front of me. He looked me up and down, as if making sure I was still in one piece.

“You don’t know if I did or not,” I said, cocking my head and staring him right in his sparkling blue eyes.

I tensed as Ryder reached out, his calloused fingers lightly touching my cheek. He brushed a bit of dirt away, his touch unexpectedly gentle for hands that looked as rough as his.

“Dirt,” he said softly as if the one word explained everything.

The moment his skin connected with mine, something like electricity shot through me, starting at my face and racing down my spine. I couldn’t move, breathe, or think of anything except the warmth of his fingertips against my skin. Our eyes locked, and for a moment, the whole world narrowed to just us standing there on that dusty road.

It seemed like Ryder felt it, too. He quickly jerked his hand away like he’d been burned and took a quick step back. Ryder looked out toward the woods as he cleared his throat.

“Are you absolutely sure I can’t give you a ride home?” he asked, his voice rougher than before. “It’s the least I can do after nearly turning you into road kill, right?”

“I’m fine,” I said with an edge to my voice as I fought to regain my composure. “I’m almost back anyway.” I gestured vaguely in the direction of my house, trying to ignore the lingering warmth on my cheek where he’d touched me. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from the fire you were rushing to put out.”

Ryder let out a genuine laugh, the sound surprisingly warm and rich. It caught me off guard how it transformed his face, softening the hard lines around his mouth, making him seem almost… likeable for a second.

My gaze dropped to my shirt, and I noticed the large brown stain setting in the middle. I shot a look back at the road where my coffee cup lay on its side at the edge of the gravel.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered. “I dropped my coffee.”

Ryder winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shit. I am so sorry. Really. I hope it washes out.”

“I’m not worried about the shirt,” I said, peeling it away from my skin. “I’m worried about the lack of caffeine.” I stared longingly at my empty cup. “That was my one good thing today.”

He laughed again… the sound doing strange things to my stomach, which I refused to acknowledge. As quickly as it appeared, his laughter vanished with a darting look toward the woods. His entire body tensed like a predator sensing danger.

“I’m sorry again,” he said distractedly, as he backed away toward his truck. “For everything.”

Before I could respond, he was jogging back to his truck. He jumped in with surprising agility for a man his size, the engine roaring to life. Within seconds, his truck was disappearing down the road, leaving me standing there with dust settling around me and coffee soaked through my shirt.

I looked toward the trees but only saw shadows between the pines and birch trees. Perhaps he was late for a meeting or something and just remembered.

I spent the rest of the day trying to make my new house feel even more like a home. I arranged the furniture and found places for everything I’d taken with me from my apartment. By evening, the place was starting to look like someone actually lived here instead of a storage unit with a bed.

After a quick dinner, I double-checked all the windows and doors, worried about what Ryder had seen in the woods that made him flee so quickly. Then again, I’d seen him out at night surrounded by wolves, and that hadn’t fazed him in the slightest.

Living alone in the country was different from my apartment in the city. Every creak and groan of the house settling made me jump. I wasn’t used to the symphony of night sounds that drifted in from the surrounding woods — crickets chirping, leaves rustling, and occasional animal calls that I couldn’t identify.

I was starting to miss the hustle and bustle of noisy city life, but I couldn’t go back. Everyone would say, “I told you so,” and that was the last thing I wanted to hear, even though my boss said I was welcome back when I realized I was making a huge mistake.

I settled into my bed and made a mental note to get some better curtains for the bedroom windows. Really thick ones that would block out the morning light and block anyone from looking into my bedroom. Not that there would be anyone out here trying to look into my room.

Ugh! I was seriously losing it.

I fell asleep faster than I expected, probably from the exhaustion of the day’s work and the lack of sleep over the last couple of days. It was the best sleep I’d gotten since I’d arrived, which I hoped meant I was getting used to the place.

It was morning when the rumble of an engine pulled me from sleep. I blinked at the ceiling, disoriented for a moment before I registered that the sounds of tires on gravel weren’t in my dream. By the time I scrambled out of bed and made it to the window, I caught only the retreating tailgate of a familiar truck pulling away from my driveway.

“What the hell?” I muttered, pushing my tangled hair from my face.

I made my way to the front door, peering cautiously through the curtains before opening the door.

There, sitting on my welcome mat, was a large cup of coffee with steam streaming out of the small opening. Beside it was a small paper bag with the top folded over. I looked up and down the road, but Ryder’s truck was long gone.

I picked up the coffee and bag, bringing them inside before closing the door with my hip. The rich aroma of fresh coffee filled my kitchen as I set everything on the counter.

Opening the bag, I found a handful of coffee creamers and sugar packets, obviously swiped from his office break room. Underneath them was something else. I pulled out the fabric, shaking it to reveal a T-shirt with “Black Construction” emblazoned across the front in bold white letters.

A replacement for my coffee-stained shirt. And a fresh coffee to make up for the one I’d lost.

I felt a smile tugging at my lips before I shook my head. Coffee and a free T-shirt weren’t going to change my mind about him, but nonetheless, I’d accept the caffeine.

I sipped the coffee, which was surprisingly good — strong and rich, just how I liked it. After a moment’s hesitation, I reached for the t-shirt. It was soft and smelled like the construction office, but it was clean. I held it up against me — a bit large, but it would do.

After a quick shower, I tugged on a pair of shorts and the Black Construction shirt since I didn’t have plans to leave the property. It hung loose, almost to mid-thigh, so I tied it in a knot at my waist.

I caught myself in the mirror and rolled my eyes. The irony of wearing his company logo after he’d nearly flattened me wasn’t lost on me.

I grabbed my paperback and my coffee to sit out on the front porch and enjoy the peace and quiet I’d supposedly moved out here for. The morning air was crisp with just enough chill to make the hot coffee feel perfect between my palms. Birds were singing, bugs were buzzing, and there wasn’t a car horn or siren for miles. The calming, sweet, floral scent of flowers filled the breeze, and I sighed. I had to admit, the countryside had its perks.

I settled into one of the chairs, propping my bare feet on the porch railing, and cracked open my book. I’d just found my place when movement caught my eye.

A woman in bright purple leggings and a very unmatching neon green windbreaker was power-walking down the road. She was pumping her arms like she was racing for an Olympic gold medal.

She waved, and it took a second for me to recognize Sheila from the diner. Her white hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, barely holding half of her curls back.

“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” she called.

I lifted my coffee mug in greeting, figuring she’d continue marching on by. Instead, she made a sharp turn up my driveway and toward the house.

Great. So much for my quiet morning.

I kept my book open as she approached the porch, hoping she’d take the hint. The woman wasn’t even out of breath as she marched in place on my front lawn.

“Already settling in like a local, huh?” she said, her eyes dropping to my shirt. “Did you get the job?”

I shook my head. “He hired someone else.”

“Oh, well, I thought of you last night when Steven Perkins stopped by the diner,” Sheila said, still marching.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know who that is.”

“Right,” she said, pumping her fists. “He owns the bar just outside of town and needed help tending the bar tonight, which I can’t do. I guess Laura can’t make it or something, and with it being a Friday, he plans on it being busy, busy, busy.”

I narrowed my eyes. “The bar scene is not really my thing.”

“Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I thought maybe you could help out. He pays real good.”

I blinked, taken aback. “I... I don’t know if I’m looking for?—”

“Before you say no, it’s just for the night. Cash,” she added with a sharp nod. “It’s really easy too. No one orders anything fancy. Pretty much only beer, really, and you won’t be alone. Donna Waterson and Paul Meyers will be there too.”

“I wish I could say that makes me feel better, but I don’t know them either,” I said, pressing my lips together into a thin smile.

Sheila dug into her jacket pocket. She came closer and handed me a business card. “I promise you, it’ll be worth it. Can I tell him to expect your call?”