Chapter 3

CHAPTERTHREE

Finley was nervous. She couldn’t believe Brock Mabrey had asked her out. It was almost surreal. She’d felt a little less nervous around him this morning. Yesterday, it was all she could do to string two coherent words together. But the more time she spent with him, the more comfortable she became in his presence.

He’d taken her by surprise when he’d asked if she wanted to go hiking. There hadn’t been a time when any of the men she’d dated asked if she wanted to do something physical for a date. It was always movies, dinners…sedentary things. As if they didn’t expect her to be physically able to ride a bike, go roller blading, or even just walk much. She couldn’t really blame them. Her size definitely screamed “give me a doughnut” instead of “let’s go jogging together.”

Finley had the feeling Brock was different in a lot of ways from the men she’d dated. She hadn’t missed him ogling her ass as she’d walked in front of him. And the appreciation and lust she’d seen in his eyes had sunk deep down into her bones. It felt good. Damn good. Though she still wasn’t sure it was the best idea to go out with him, because she knew herself, knew that it wouldn’t take much for her to fall hard and fast. Hell, she was already halfway there.

She’d spent enough time around him to know he was an honorable guy. He wasn’t an asshole. Didn’t overcharge his customers. Was polite, but never sucked up to people. And the fact that he went out of his way to recommend his co-owner’s friend because the guy wanted to help his sister back in Brazil simply tipped the scales when it came to Finley trusting him.

The meeting with Liam Silva had gone extremely well. The man was indeed soft-spoken and eager to work, as promised. He was a little intimidating at first, simply because of his appearance, but it was obvious he’d tried hard to appear harmless. Finley had talked with him for half an hour and hired him on the spot. He seemed surprised to get the job, which made her kind of sad. It was clear he’d had a difficult time finding employment, and was extremely grateful.

There was paperwork that had to be done, and she needed to check with Drew—who she’d hired to be her accountant a couple months ago—about legal crap, but it looked as if The Sweet Tooth finally had another employee.

The townspeople would be happy, as Finley always had to close the shop whenever she’d had to step out in the past. Like when she’d heard about what happened to Caryn. And when the search for Bristol was underway. While Finley had no problem closing her store when her friends needed her, it would be nice not to have to anymore. It would also free her up to take more catering jobs—like making Lilly and Ethan’s wedding cake—since she could soon turn over the day-to-day operations to Liam.

The interview had ended early enough that Finley was able to go home and change before coming back to the square to meet Brock. She stopped to chat with Art, Silas, and Otto, who were at their normal spot outside the post office. It was nice to see Art, Caryn’s grandfather, back to his normal self. After being stabbed in his home, everyone had been worried he might not bounce back. At ninety-one, it hadn’t been guaranteed.

“There’ve been a lot of people coming and going from The Sweet Tooth recently,” Otto said, clearly fishing for information about what was going on with Davis and Liam and Brock.

“What, you don’t think I should have customers?” Finley teased.

Art chuckled.

“You hurt your wrist?” Silas asked.

Finley shrugged. “Yeah, tripped over a large piece of air someone left in front of me. It’s just sprained though.”

“Caryn called Brock to help her out yesterday,” Art informed his friends.

They both immediately turned on him.

“You knew that and didn’t say anything?” Otto demanded.

“Yeah, since when do you keep any good gossip from us?” Silas complained.

Art smirked. “It’s nice to have one up on you guys. I spent too much time missing out while I was on bed rest. I’m making up for it now.”

“That’s just wrong,” Silas grumbled. “We shared everything we could with you and this is how you repay us?”

Finley was amused by the three friends bitching at each other, even if she did feel a little bad that they were arguing about her.

Otto turned his attention back to her. “So…that’s what Brock was doing there so early? Helping you bake?”

“Uh-huh.”

“He didn’t leave until after ten yesterday. And around nine today. That’s a lot of baking,” Silas mused.

Finley felt herself blushing, but nodded. “It was.”

“And…Liam Silva? He was there after you closed…” Art said. It was a question not phrased as a question.

“I’m hiring him to help out in the front,” she informed the men.

“Good choice!”

“About time.”

“Nice!”

Finley smiled at the three of them.

“So what are you doing back here then? You only went home not too long ago,” Otto said.

“Brock and I are going to hike part of the Barker Mill Trail.”

All three men smiled huge at her, and she could practically see the wheels turning in their heads. “It’s nothing serious,” she quickly added, doing what she could to prevent the men from spreading a rumor that she and Brock were getting married or something equally ridiculous.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m sure.”

“Finley, a man like Brock Mabrey doesn’t voluntarily show up to help a woman bake cookies and cupcakes if he’s not interested in having said woman bake those same goodies in his own kitchen after a long night in his bed,” Silas informed her.

Finley stared at him with wide eyes.

“Exactly,” Art agreed with a firm nod.

“And you couldn’t do better than Brock,” Otto added. “The man knows his way around cars, and I’m guessing that attention to detail extends to other things as well.” He winked at Finley as he said it.

“You guys, we’re just going for a hike. That’s it,” Finley insisted. “I mean, we’re as different as night and day.”

“Opposites attract,” Silas told her.

“Wait, what does that mean, exactly?” Art asked Finley with a frown, holding up a hand to stop Otto from commenting.

Finley shrugged as nonchalantly as she could. “Could you really see the two of us together?” she asked with a humorless laugh. “The frumpy baker and the hot former Border Patrol guy? Right.”

Art shook his head and shook his index finger at her. “There’s nothing wrong with you, missy. And to answer your question, yes, I could.”

“He’s had his eye on you for a while now,” Otto added with a nod.

Silas patted his protruding belly, leaning back in his chair. “Nothing wrong with having some meat on your bones. My wife, God rest her soul, had curves for days and I’ll tell you one thing, our love life was combustible. A great relationship has nothing to do with whatever the scale says when you step on it, but how you support your partner, how you’re there for them in the bad or boring times. Anyone can have a good relationship during the fun times, like vacations, birthdays and the like. But it’s when you’re hot and tired, or cranky and upset that matters.”

He wasn’t wrong. Finley nodded. “I know.”

“Do you?” Art challenged.

Finley straightened. “Yes. I am who I am. This is who I am, and people can take it or leave it. I’m never going to be a size two, and I wouldn’t want to be. I like food too much. I’m a good friend, I try to be a good person, to help others when I can. And while I haven’t had a long-term relationship in quite a while, I’d like to think that my friends know I’m there for them in the bad times as well as the good.”

“They do,” a deep voice said from behind her.

Finley froze. “Please tell me that isn’t Brock,” she whispered to the three men in front of her, who all had huge grins on their faces yet again.

“It’s not Brock,” Otto said obediently.

Finley closed her eyes and did her best to tamp down her embarrassment. It wasn’t so much what she said, because she realized that Silas was right. She needed to stop denigrating herself. While she was still a little uncomfortable around Brock because he was so good-looking and she’d never really seen herself as particularly pretty, she really did like who she was. She’d come to terms with her weight a long time ago, and she’d done a fairly good job at ignoring the fat jokes and hurtful comments she sometimes heard aimed in her direction.

It had taken a long time to get to where she was today. Her mom was a freaking model, for God’s sake…and she’d always been disappointed in Finley’s weight. Always had snide things to say about the ever-increasing size of her clothes and the food she ate. Dinners as a child were excruciating, since she always served Finley a tiny amount of food, leaving her perpetually hungry.

She didn’t know her dad; he’d apparently left as soon as he’d learned her mom was pregnant. Finley liked to think that maybe if he’d been around, he would’ve reined in her mother when it came to harping on her about her weight.

A large hand wrapped around her waist, then Brock pulled her snuggly into his side as he leaned down and kissed her temple. “Hey,” he said by way of greeting.

Finley looked up at him and for a moment, it felt as if they were the only two people in the world. It was exciting to be held so close. And, as usual, he looked amazing. He had on a pair of cargo pants and a navy blue T-shirt with the Old Town Auto logo on the front. He smelled like soap, which let her know he’d showered not too long ago. His hair was sticking up, as if he’d run a hand through it while it was wet and it simply dried that way.

She unconsciously licked her lips as she stared at him, wondering how it would feel to have him really kiss her, instead of just pecking her on the cheek or temple.

A throat clearing and a chuckle brought her back to earth and made her realize where she was. Hating how easily she blushed, she turned to the three older men. They were all still smiling at her.

“Right, so…Brock is here and we’re leaving. It was good chatting with you guys. Stay out of trouble, all right?” she told the trio.

“No guarantees.”

“Whatever.”

“Not a chance.”

Their responses made her shake her head at them in exasperation and affection. She looked at Brock again. His gaze was still glued to her, as if he hadn’t looked away for a second. “Ready,” he said.

Finley turned, and Brock kept his hand on her, shifting until it was resting on the small of her back. He steered her toward his truck sitting at the curb in front of The Sweet Tooth.

“I forgot about you needing to change,” he said as they walked. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I had plenty of time after talking with Liam to run home and put on something more appropriate to hike.”

“Run home?” he asked.

Finley chuckled. “Figure of speech. I didn’t actually run. I drove.”

“Right. That wasn’t me making a judgement call on you not being able to run home. I was just curious. I don’t run myself, always hated it. I’d rather lift weights or hike. And for the record, Finley…I like who you are. I wouldn’t want you to be a size two either. Never understood the desire of women to be skin and bones. To be healthy, yes. But that doesn’t equate to a particular size. Some people are at their healthiest when they’re a size two, and for others it’s a size eighteen.”

He studied her then, with heat in his eyes. “But for me, personally…I’ve always been attracted to women who have curves. And you are a damn good friend, and person, and we all know you’re here for us no matter what. So…things with Liam went well?”

Goose bumps rose on Finley’s arms. She was embarrassed Brock overheard what she’d said to Art, Otto, and Silas, but his words soothed a worry she’d harbored from the moment she realized she was attracted to the man. Brock saying straight up that he not only didn’t mind the shape of her body, but was attracted to her because of her curves, felt amazing.

She smiled shyly at him, feeling lighter than she had in a very long time. She still felt timid, but with every minute she spent with him, that shyness was morphing into something more…intimate.

“Liam was great. He’s extremely enthusiastic. He’s never worked in customer service, so he’ll have to learn how to be tough but fair when it comes to people’s demands, but I think he’s going to work out. At least I hope so.”

“Me too.”

“He said he didn’t mind working full eight-hour days, which is awesome for me. He’ll come in at six, take a lunch mid-morning, and we’ll both be done at three. I think with him there, I can actually get some of the next day’s baking done ahead of time, or at least prep the dough. It’ll save me a lot of time, since I won’t be dividing my time between the front counter and the kitchen.”

She knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t help it.

“Thank you so much for recommending him. He told me a little bit about his sister, and I really hope any money he’s able to send back home will help her get the treatment she needs sooner.”

“I’m sure it will,” Brock said as he steered her toward the driver’s side of his truck. He opened the door and gestured. “Hop on in.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier for me to get in on the other side?” she asked with a curious tilt of her head.

“Probably. But this way, no one can sneak up on you while you’re getting in.”

That was kind of paranoid…but sweet at the same time. Shrugging and deciding it really didn’t matter which side of the truck she got in on, Finley climbed inside and scooted across the bench seat. There was no middle console, and she smiled as she looked around at the nostalgic interior of the truck.

“You’ve done a great job restoring this,” she told him.

“Thanks. You should’ve seen her when I first got her. Bought her for a hundred and fifty bucks from a scrapyard. Worked on her in my free time, as a way to decompress from my former day job.”

“Was it that tough?” Finley asked as he pulled away from the curb. She winced. “That didn’t come out right. I’m just not sure exactly what your job entailed.”

“It’s fine. You can ask me anything you want and I won’t get offended,” Brock told her easily. “I did what you probably think of when you hear about customs…stood at the border crossings and checked documentation of anyone coming into the country. I didn’t ever work in airports, which I’m thankful for. I preferred to be at the actual borders. I inspected vehicles for illegal drugs, agriculture, and weapons…even people. You know, like semis full of people being smuggled into the US. I also patrolled the borders by foot, trying to catch people entering and, believe it or not, leaving the country illegally.”

“Like along the Mexican border, the wall?”

“Yes. But also on the Canadian border. There are plenty of people who cross into the US in the forests that line our northern states.”

“Yeah, I don’t really think about that when I think about customs.”

“There are also criminals who try to get out of the US without the authorities knowing. They usually have warrants out for their arrest. Murderers, drug dealers, child molesters…those kinds of people.”

“Wow, so yeah, I’m guessing that was pretty hairy sometimes,” Finley said, completely enthralled.

“That’s one word for it. Desperate people will do dangerous things when they’re cornered. Let’s just say I much prefer looking for people who want to be found, rather than those who are trying to stay hidden,” Brock said with a shrug. Then he took a deep breath and patted the dashboard of the truck. “So yeah, fixing this baby up was a good stress reliever.”

“I can imagine.”

They pulled into the parking area at the trailhead for the three-mile Barker Mill Trail and Brock shut off the engine. “You ready?”

“Yup.”

When she reached for the door handle, Brock shook his head. “This way,” he said, gesturing to his door with his head.

Finley rolled her eyes, but again did as he asked. He reached out a hand and helped her scoot across the seat. The feel of his fingers made her sigh. He was warm, and her hands were usually always cold.

“It doesn’t bother you,” Brock said as she hopped down from the seat. He hadn’t let go of her hand, and Finley wasn’t exactly disappointed.

“What doesn’t?” she asked.

“My hands.”

Finley looked up at him with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“They’re stained. No matter how much I scrub them, I can’t get the black off. I suppose if I stopped working on cars, they’d eventually go back to their normal shade, but I promise they’re clean.”

“My fingers are always freezing,” Finley blurted. “I mean, always. I guess it’s a circulation thing, but I’ve gotten used to it. I think your hands are awesome. They’re really warm, and your fingers are so much longer than mine, so they wrap all the way around mine as if giving my hand a hug. Okay, that sounded stupid, sorry.”

“It didn’t,” Brock reassured her.

“As for the stains, who cares? You’ve got working-man’s hands, Brock. There’s nothing wrong with that. Let me guess…some woman at some point in your life gave you a hard time about them.”

His lips twitched. “Yeah.”

“Well, she’s stupid.”

This time, Brock chuckled. “Can’t argue with that. It’s just…you didn’t even ask if I’d scrubbed them before helping you in the kitchen.”

“I saw you wash them at the sink before we started. Why would I question you? Oh, wait, because she did that too.” Finley didn’t know who the mysterious woman was who’d given Brock shit about his hands, but she definitely didn’t like her.

“I’d taken her out to a nice restaurant, and she was embarrassed by the shape of my hands. I’d just helped a buddy replace the engine in his car and it was an especially messy job. He’d forgotten to empty the oil pan and that shit got everywhere. She asked me to go wash my hands, so I just did as she asked, instead of telling her that I’d showered before picking her up. When I got back to the table, she couldn’t take her eyes off my fingers, and eventually I asked if she’d be more comfortable going somewhere else.” He shrugged. “She said yes.”

“I hope you dumped her ass,” Finley muttered. They were still standing by his truck, her hand still in his.

Brock shook his head. “Actually, she dumped me.”

“Told you she was stupid,” Finley repeated. “I’m not sure I would trust a mechanic who didn’t have stains on his hands,” she said honestly. “Besides, just as you reassured me earlier that it’s not how much I weigh that matters, it’s not stains on your skin that matter to me.”

“What does?” he asked.

Finley blushed, realizing she’d walked right into this conversation. She found the courage somewhere deep within her to answer him honestly. “The way you look at me instead of through me. How you listen to what I say. How you’re always willing to drop everything for your friends. The fact that you’ll spend an hour with Elsie’s son, answering the same questions about something car related over and over without getting irritated. How patient you are, and how you’re willing to go outside your comfort zone to help me in the kitchen when it’s obvious baking isn’t something you actually enjoy.”

Then, because she couldn’t stop herself if she tried, she brought their clasped hands up to her lips and kissed his knuckles, making sure to plant her lips right over a large stain to make her point.

The effect her words and action had on him was immediate. His pupils dilated, and she could see his chest rising and falling rapidly. She felt a little giddy herself.

“So fierce when you’re defending others,” he said gruffly.

Finley shrugged. She’d always been that way. It was much easier to get worked up when others were mistreated than it had ever been when she was the one maligned.

Just as Brock began to lean toward her, and Finley was sure he meant to kiss her, they were interrupted by four college-aged men leaving the trail. Brock pulled back, but she could read the promise in his eyes. It made Finley shiver in anticipation.

Brock squeezed her hand and pulled her toward the trailhead. He nodded at the kids.

“You guys goin’ out to look for Bigfoot?” one of them asked.

“Depends…see any sign of him yourself?” Brock asked.

“No, but we did find a big-ass footprint. There’s no way an animal made it. It has to be from Bigfoot himself!”

“Then yes, we’re going to look for him too,” Brock told them.

“Good luck, man!”

“Take pictures if you find him!”

“Your cell phone’s not gonna work out there, found that out the hard way. So don’t get lost,” another said.

When they’d put the foursome behind them and entered the forest, Brock glanced at Finley. “Don’t worry, I’ve got my satellite phone.”

“I’m not worried,” she told him. And she wasn’t. If there was anyone she was comfortable going into the forest with, it was Brock. “You think they really did find a footprint?” she asked.

“If they did, I’m guessing it’s left over from the paranormal investigations show,” Brock drawled. “From what Lilly said, they were tromping all over the forest with those fake feet.”

“I’d forgotten about that,” Finley said with a chuckle. “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am,” Brock teased.

She rolled her eyes.

They walked along the well-marked trail, nodding at other hikers they passed. Being with Brock was comfortable. Finley didn’t feel the need to fill the silence between them. And she couldn’t deny that she loved holding his hand.

Almost as soon as she had the thought, he let go of her, and Finley figured that was the end of that.

But then he held out his other hand and wiggled his fingers at her.

“What?”

“Give me your other hand.”

She switched to his opposite side and gave him her hand. They continued walking down the trail. “What was that about?” she asked after a while, not able to stem her curiosity.

“You said your hands are always cold, so I figured I’d warm this one up for a while.”

Finley almost melted into a pile of goo right there on the trail. She didn’t need huge bouquets of flowers from a man. Or extravagant gestures or gifts. She needed what Brock was giving her—kindness and consideration. And it scared the shit out of her. This was their first date. How was he so in tune with her already?

Was all this a ploy to get her into bed?

But as soon as she had the thought, she dismissed it. Brock didn’t have to work hard to get a woman to sleep with him. As far as she knew, however—and her friends were quick to reassure her—Brock hadn’t had a girlfriend in a very long time. That didn’t mean he wasn’t sleeping with someone casually, but Finley didn’t think that was his style.

No, like she’d told him already, he listened to people. And it was obvious Brock also had an innate sense of how to treat others. To discover what they needed and give it to them. Just as he’d done with her. He’d given her his time and assistance when she’d needed it the most. And he’d paid attention to what she’d said about her hands.

They’d walked about a mile and a half when they turned a corner on the trail and came upon a woman sitting off to the side, crying. Brock immediately went to the woman to find out what was wrong.

They learned her name was Rebecca, and that her boyfriend thought he’d seen something in the trees and had told her to stay put, that he’d be back. That had been thirty minutes ago, and she was now totally freaked out that he might have gotten lost.

Brock turned to Finley, and she immediately said, “I’ll stay here with her. Go.”

The relief she saw in his eyes made her feel good that she was able to help him and not be a burden.

“Take this,” he said, holding out his satellite phone. “Call Ethan and tell him what’s going on.”

“No,” Finley said firmly. “I’m not taking your only means of communication while you’re out wandering around in the woods. You call Ethan, I’ll stay here. On the extremely well-marked trail, where there will be plenty of people passing by that can help us if we need it.”

Brock’s lips twitched. “Right.”

“We’ll be fine,” she told him softly. “Go. Do your thing. Wait—is it safe for you to go off the trail by yourself?”

“Yes. Because I’ve got a compass, and even if I didn’t, I could find my way back to the trail with my eyes closed.”

“Right. Then I’ll see you when you get back.”

He hesitated for just a moment, then reached for her. He wrapped one of his large, warm hands around her nape and pulled her close. His lips landed on hers—and Finley gasped as she got her first taste of the man she’d spent the last several months thinking about.

The feel of his tongue licking along her lips made Finley sigh, and she grabbed one of his huge biceps and dug her fingernails into his flesh through the cotton of his shirt, as she shyly reached out with her own tongue to meet his.

The sparks that shot through her when he caressed her tongue with his own were surprising, but by no means unwelcome.

Brock pulled back way too soon for her liking, but he had to get going. Find the woman’s boyfriend before it got dark. The same heat coursing through her veins was shining out of Brock’s eyes as he stared at her for another moment. Then he licked his lips sensually, as if trying to taste every last morsel of her on his skin. As he slid his hand off her nape, his thumb brushed against the underside of her jaw. It was all Finley could do to stay standing. This man was lethal…and she wasn’t sure she could handle it if all he wanted was a short-term fling.

“I’ve dreamed about that for way too fucking long,” he said quietly.

His words reassured Finley that whatever they were doing, it wasn’t going to be brief. “Same,” she whispered.

“Sorry our first date got interrupted,” he told her.

“If you’d hurry up and get going and find this guy, we could continue,” she sassed.

He chuckled. “Right. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Do not leave the trail. No matter what. And don’t let her leave it either. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t sit right with me to leave you here,” he admitted.

Finley shook her head. “I’m fine. Go, Brock. Seriously.”

“All right. I’m going,” he said, taking a step back. Then he looked at the still crying woman. “Stay with Finley. I’ll be back with your boyfriend as soon as I can.”

Finley watched until Brock was out of sight in the trees, then turned to the woman.

“Do you really think he’ll find him?” she asked tearfully.

“Yes. This is your lucky day…Brock’s a member of the local search and rescue team. There’s literally no one more qualified to find your boyfriend than him.”

Her words seemed to reassure the woman, and Finley urged her a little ways down from where they were standing to a large tree that had fallen over. They sat, and Finley did what she could to keep Rebecca’s mind occupied until Brock returned.

Almost an hour later, Finley looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching to find Talon coming down the trail. Standing, she frowned at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he reassured her quickly. Then he turned to the woman. “You’re Rebecca?”

She nodded.

“Right, I’m Tal. My mate’s the one who went off to look for your boyfriend. Turns out he found himself in a right bad predicament, stepped into a hole and sprained his ankle. But he’s fine, so don’t get worked up. Brock called us in, and the others are helping Mike to the trailhead as we speak. I’m here to escort you and Fin back to the cars. We’ll meet them there.”

“Oh! Are you sure he’s all right?” Rebecca asked.

“Positive. Now, are you all right?” Tal asked as he gestured to the trail, indicating that the women head out in front of him. He turned and winked at Finley in the process.

She’d never been so glad to see someone in her life. Rebecca had vacillated between being hysterical about the fate of her boyfriend and downright mad when Finley wouldn’t let her go off into the woods herself to look for him. She was relieved the missing man was all right, and that she was off the hook, so to speak, when it came to babysitting Rebecca.

As they walked, she learned that Brock had called Ethan, Tal, and Drew when he’d found the injured Mike. Ethan and Drew immediately went to help Brock, while Tal was sent to retrieve her and Rebecca. She was doubly glad she’d refused to take Brock’s phone.

By the time the three of them reached the parking lot, there was a chill in the air and the sun was beginning to set. With the arrival of autumn came shorter days and longer nights. While Finley had never liked summer, she wasn’t a huge fan of the freezing temperatures of winter either.

Mike was sitting in the passenger seat of a Ford Excursion, talking to the three search and rescue guys. When Rebecca saw him, she ran toward the car, crying hysterically.

“She’s a little dramatic, huh?” Tal asked.

Finley did her best to choke back a laugh. He wasn’t wrong.

“Looks like Brock’s just as eager to see you as Rebecca was to see her boyfriend,” Tal observed, as Brock hurried in their direction. “It was good to see you,” Tal told her with another wink. He gave Brock a chin lift as he passed, but he didn’t even seem to notice as all his attention was on Finley.

“You all right?” he asked when he got close.

Finley frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked.

Brock took a deep breath as he stopped in front of her. “I don’t know. I just hated leaving you alone back there.”

“I wasn’t alone. And I’m not helpless. I was on the trail the whole time. I was fine.”

“I know, I just…shit.” He ran a hand through his hair, and Finley couldn’t help thinking he was kind of cute when he was frustrated.

She reached out a hand and placed it on his chest. “I’m good, Brock. But thank you for worrying.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said, grabbing her hand with his. Then he frowned. “Crap, you’re freezing.”

Finley chuckled. “I’m not really. I told you my hands run cold.”

Without a word, Brock turned and towed her toward his truck.

“Don’t you have to, I don’t know…do something official since you were the one to find him?” Finley asked as she followed.

“Ethan will take care of the report.”

He opened his door and gestured for her to get in. Without a word, Finley climbed in and scooted over to the passenger side. Brock climbed in behind her, then took a deep breath before turning to face her.

“Thank you for making me take the phone.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“Found him about twenty minutes after I left you. He’d stepped right into a large hole covered with debris and hurt his ankle bad. He wouldn’t let me touch it, and he was screaming in pain. Also, you saw him, he’s not a small man. I probably could’ve swung him over my shoulder and carried him, but he would’ve bitched and moaned the entire time. I figured it would be better to call for backup. I hated not being able to let you know what was happening.”

Finley shrugged. “It’s okay. I wasn’t worried.”

He tilted his head and stared at her. “You really weren’t? I was gone for an hour.”

“No, why would I be? Brock, you’re more at home in the woods than you are in town. I knew whatever was going on, you had it under control.”

“Fuck,” Brock said under his breath. “How’d I get so lucky?” Then he shook his head and said, “This isn’t how I saw our first date going.”

Finley chuckled. “Well, you can make it up to me with the next one.” Then she blushed. Darn, what if he didn’t want to go out again? She was being awfully presumptuous.

“Damn straight I will,” he muttered. Then he reached over and picked up her hand. Instead of holding it, he lifted his thigh slightly and stuffed her fingers under it. “To warm you up,” he said gruffly, then reached for the ignition.

Finley’s belly did somersaults. It wasn’t the most conventional or romantic thing, but to her, it meant the world. She inched closer to him on the seat, as far as her seat belt would allow, and sighed in contentment as he drove them back toward Fallport.

When he turned onto the road where her small house was located, Finley frowned. “I need to get my car,” she reminded him. “It’s behind The Sweet Tooth.”

“I’ll come pick you up in the morning, take you to work.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t. But I’m going to.”

Finley could only smile at the determination in his tone. “Okay. Thank you.”

His shoulders relaxed a fraction, as if he’d been afraid she would argue with him. “You’re welcome.”

He pulled into her driveway and climbed out. Finley didn’t even try to get out on her side, knowing he preferred for her to get out on his. She quickly scooted across the seat and he took her hand again as he helped her out. Then he walked her to her door. After she’d unlocked the dead bolt, she turned to him. “Thanks for the hike.”

“Sorry it didn’t go as planned.”

“I don’t know…We got out and stretched our legs. We got to talk a bit. You rescued a dude in distress. I think it went all right.”

Brock smiled. “Promise our next one will go better. Speaking of which…wanna go bowling with me?”

“When?”

“Tomorrow?”

Finley chuckled. “I need to meet with Lilly.”

“Right. You’ve got stuff to do. All right, you let me know when you’re ready. You’ve got my number, right?”

“Uh-huh. Lilly made sure we all had everyone’s numbers.”

“Good.” Then he stepped closer and said, “May I?”

Finley knew exactly what he was asking, and she nodded shyly. She’d wanted his lips back on hers ever since that first kiss on the trail.

He palmed the side of her head, brushing his thumb across her cheek. Finley’s eyes closed and she sighed as their lips met. At first the kiss was slow and gentle, but then Brock groaned deeply and his hand slipped into her hair. He held her still as he slanted his head and opened his mouth.

They devoured each other as if the world was in imminent danger of exploding and this was their last moment alive.

By the time Brock lifted his head, they were both breathing hard. Finley’s nipples were rubbing uncomfortably against her bra and it was all she could do not to clench her thighs together to try to control the need between her legs. This man was lethal.

“Damn,” Brock whispered.

It was nice to know she wasn’t the only one affected by their kiss.

“Go in and lock the door,” he said after taking a deep breath. But he hadn’t let go of the back of her head. His fingers caressed her scalp, sending tingles down her spine.

“I will…but you have to let go first,” she told him, smirking a bit.

“Yeah, I know. Trying,” he mumbled.

It was exhilarating to know he was just as attracted as she was. Finley’s hands were on his chest, stroking absently, and she couldn’t help but feel his own hard nipples under his shirt. He finally took a deep breath and stepped away from her.

“See you in the morning. Four twenty-five all right for me to pick you up?”

“Are you sure you really want to get up that early?” she asked.

“Positive.”

“All right, then yes, four twenty-five is great. Thank you.”

Brock nodded and backed off her small porch. He didn’t turn around as he walked toward his truck. “Inside, Fin. Lock the door.”

She kept her eyes on him as she pushed the door open and stepped into her house. She smiled at him one more time before shutting herself inside. She turned the dead bolt, then took a deep breath and leaned against the door. One hand went up to her lips, and she smiled.

Today had been…surprising. She’d gained two new employees, had her first date in forever, and was kissed as if she was the most important person in the world.

Yeah, she could take more days like this one.