Chapter 2

2

TRACE

I wanted to hate the woman in the pinkish blouse and dark blue jeans, especially when she showed up on Sugarplum Lane just two hours after I told her to fuck off.

Actually, those words had been for her boss. I would never say them to any woman, let alone someone who looked like her.

" Hel -lo!" my buddy Rob said when he spotted her talking to the neighbors.

We'd been helping Bryce all morning. His uncle, Walker, was a buddy of mine. Bryce's small house had been a complete loss, but we were sorting through the rubble, pulling out anything we could grab for him.

The neighbor's house was still standing, though. Weird how tornadoes worked. It was as if it came across the sky, dropped down and struck one house, then hopped back up again before striking a couple of miles down the road. In the meantime, it left plenty of damaged roofs and windows, not to mention all the downed trees and debris strewn everywhere.

"Don't be fooled by the hot bod and gorgeous face," I told Rob. "She's here to prey on tornado victims. She was at the courthouse just a couple of hours ago. I told her to get lost."

I hadn't actually said that. She politely left after I gave her my message for her boss.

"I thought she left town." I sighed. "I guess I was wrong."

"Uh-oh," Rob said. "She's looking this way."

I dared to glance over again and found the homeowner she'd been speaking to pointing at us. I wanted to turn and walk away, but I stood frozen as she began walking this way.

Damn, she was beautiful. Not just beautiful—captivating. I didn't usually use four-syllable words. It seemed a waste of time when one or two syllables could get the job done. But that was the word that came to mind as I stared at her.

"Hi again," she said.

Her eyes were on me as she approached wearing a big smile. It was as though our earlier meeting had never happened. Or maybe she'd forgotten about it.

Fat chance of that. The F-word tended to stick in someone's mind.

"My boss wants to buy lunch for all the volunteers," she said. "Is there a way to round everyone up?"

When I just stared at her, she shifted her attention to Rob, who probably still had that goofy grin on his face. He got like that when a hot woman was nearby. It wasn't something that happened often around these parts, so I couldn't blame him.

"What kind of food are we talking?" Rob asked. "I'm starving. How about you?"

He nudged me in the arm, and I gave him a hard look. It was a look that said, "Did you not hear what I said just a couple of minutes ago?"

But Rob wasn't bothered in the least by that. In fact, it looked like he was up to something.

"Trace, why don't you help her out with lunch?" Rob asked. "I'll stay here and deal with this."

"She seems to have everything under control," I told him.

"Actually, I could use some help." The woman flashed me another smile. "I don't think we've been formally introduced. I'm Presley."

She thrust out a hand, and this time it didn't have a business card in it. But that didn't mean she had good motives. None of this meant that.

"I'm Rob, and this is Trace," the guy I thought was my friend said. "We were in the military together. Trace here talked me into moving to Rosewood Ridge."

She didn't need to know all that. In fact, the more she knew about me, the harder it would be to keep my distance. I was already having a tough time looking at her without thinking about what it might be like to kiss her. And kissing would lead to other things…

"We could just do a bunch of pizzas," I said. "That would be easiest."

"In this heat?" Rob asked. "I mean, I'm cool with it, but I think after sweating our asses off all morning, something light might be better."

"We could just run by the grocery store and grab a bunch of stuff," Presley said.

I turned back to her. She was staring at me as if we were working together on this and she needed my feedback. Oh, right. We were working together on this, apparently.

"Let's go," I said. "We can hop in my truck."

She looked surprised. Maybe she expected me to fight it a little. But what I wanted to say was, "Let's get this over with."

I wished I felt that way about it. I really did. But weird thoughts were going through my brain. Thoughts that had no place there. Thoughts of going grocery shopping with a woman—something very domestic and something I would've said just hours ago was not in the cards for me. Ever.

So why all of a sudden did the thought of domestic life fill me with hope? Why was I thinking grocery shopping with a beautiful woman would be the best thing I'd done all summer?