Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

CAROLINA

Okay, someone pinch me.

One second, I was facing down a bearded mountain of a man, next I quit my job—thankfully out of my boss’ hearing range—then I locked my keys in my car, it started raining, and now, I was hanging ass over teakettle, just slung over some mountain-sized man’s shoulder like a sack of freaking potatoes!

What the heck is happening to my life?

“Put me down!” I yelled after we went inside his cabin and he’s still holding onto me like I weigh nothing at all.

Which was insane, I don’t weigh nothing. I’ve always been a realist, and realistically speaking I was a big girl.

Always was, always will be.

Heavy.

Thick.

Fat, some would and have said.

Or pleasantly plump , as my Dad characterized me, which really was not any better than being called fat.

But this guy, he just lifted me up and carried me around like I was one of those tiny little waifs I used to wish I looked like so desperately when I was in high school.

“Put me down!” I repeated, and the oaf stopped short in his perusal of the cabin.

The hand on my ass squeezed, then froze as if he only realized he was inappropriately fondling me.

Wish I could have been righteously indignant, but the truth was, I kinda liked how it felt.

Being carried and caressed by a sexy giant was like top five bucket list, hands down.

Eeek! No. Bad girl!

Dear Lord, what was coming over me?

Obviously, it had been way too long since I’d gotten any kind of physical attention from a man.

The behemoth grunted as he bent over, lowering me to the floor carefully, like I was precious or something.

“Alright. Don’t throw a wobbly,” he muttered.

I admit, I had no idea what he meant by that. In fact, half of what he said was gibberish to me. And I was fairly certain it wasn’t a compliment.

Still, that accent was sexy as fuck, and the deep timbre of his voice seemed to slither right down to my girly bits, making them tingle and beg for attention.

Of course, that I found him attractive only pissed me off more.

I huffed out a breath, a little dizzy from being held upside down. Opening my eyes too quickly, the room was still spinning, and I would have tipped right over, were it not for his big, tattooed hands holding me up.

Holy fuck. Could he be any hotter?

“You alright, Caro Darlin’?” he murmured.

“What?”

“Uh, nothing,” he said, letting go of my waist to rub the back of his neck.

“I think we better find you something dry to put on,” he grumbled, and I noticed then he was looking at my chest and his cheeks, what I could see above his beard, were going all ruddy.

He turned and looked around, opening the front door and grabbing a bag someone had tossed up on his porch.

The wind was howling, and the rain was falling in buckets. The storm was definitely worse than the weather center had predicted.

“Shit. I won’t be able to leave,” I muttered, knowing full well that this far west storms tended to turn into hurricanes at the drop of a hat.

“Here,” he said.

He was holding a shirt out to me, something he must have found in the large duffle bag he was sifting through.

“Oh, um, thanks,” I murmured.

A shiver ran through me and since he’d already seen most of me through the stupid white shirt I wore, I figured why waste time playing coy?

Still, I gave him my back. I mean, I wasn’t an exhibitionist.

Then I peeled the wet sweater off my body, trembling uncontrollably now that the cold had seeped in.

My bra was soaked too, and I knew it had to come off. I unhooked it, shrugging it off before I started putting my arms through the sleeves of his enormous shirt.

“Bloody fucking hell,” he murmured, and I looked up, locking eyes with his in the reflection of the TV.

Uh oh.

“Oh my God! Turn around,” I said, pulling his shirt over my head.

It smelled good. Spicy and masculine, and I wondered if he smelled the same.

“Not on your life,” he rumbled and closed the space between us, spinning me around with one big hand on my shoulder.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, my heart racing as I met his emerald fire stare.

There was a mixture of confusion and anticipation swirling within me, my breath hitching in my throat.

The intensity on his face held me captive, igniting something within me.

“This,” he replied, his voice low and smooth, as he closed the distance between us.

Before I could even start to process what was happening, he pressed his mouth to mine.

The world around us faded in an instant. All I could feel was the warmth of his lips against my own.

It was electric—a rush of sensations that coursed through me, igniting every nerve ending.

This kiss was not soft or tentative. It was rough and deliberate. I moaned as his hands slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer.

My mind raced, caught between the thrill of the moment and the weight of reality. I mean, I really didn’t know this man past his name.

Dane Barret. Good name.

Oh, shut up, I told my inner voice.

But I couldn’t help but fall into his arms as he kissed me deeper and more thoroughly than I’d ever been kissed before in my life.

Butterflies filled my stomach. But all too soon, those soft-winged flutters turned into pterodactyls beating their monster-sized wings, stirring up avalanches of emotion inside me.

This was too much too soon. But for the life of me, I could not push him away.

He felt big. And not in the sense that he was enormous, and I felt something equally large and hard pressing against my soft belly as he ravaged me with his lips.

Big as in important. Like destiny.

Fuck.

I should have pushed him away. Asked him what the hell was going on. But all I could do was lean into the kiss, surrendering to the heat that enveloped us.

Each heartbeat echoed in my ears, drowning out any logical thoughts.

It felt as if time stood still, the world outside our bubble falling away. I was lost in the intensity of his emerald eyes, now closed, as if he was savoring the moment just as much as I was.

I couldn’t help but wonder how we had arrived here, two people caught in a whirlwind of emotions, each kiss unraveling the barriers I thought I had built around myself.

When we finally pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, the reality of the moment hit me like a freight train.

“What was that?” I stammered, searching his face for answers, my heart still pounding in my chest.

I expected him to smirk, but he didn’t offer a devil-may-care grin or snarky reply.

He looked every bit as bewildered as I felt.

“I don’t know. But I don’t want to stop.”