Chapter 2

2

JAX

T he internet was ruining my life.

I'd been grumbling all day about the fact that a bunch of women had come to town looking for me. My buddy, Kane, warned me about it. He didn't even live here. He lived in a mountain town in Montana called Sweetheart Falls. But we'd stayed in touch after our time in the military together.

So when the video of me cleaning up after the tornado went viral, he'd sent it to me. And he'd warned me this morning that commenters on the video were saying they were coming here to look for me.

And that was why I'd hidden in my cabin all day. But now, I was leading a redheaded knockout to the pond behind my house. That was where I'd been fishing when I heard her scream.

Was it a scream or a yell? It was more like a yell. Whatever the case, it was clear that a woman was in distress. Only she wasn't.

"So what's the story with the yelling?" I asked as I came to a stop on the bank next to the large pond behind my house.

"Frustration," she said, stepping up to stand next to me. "Ahh."

Yes, that was exactly what she'd said before, only it had been a shout, while this was more of a sigh of relief. When I looked over at her, I saw the face of someone who felt at peace. The water did that for me too.

Suddenly, she shifted to look to her right. "Somebody left their fishing pole."

"That's mine," I said. "A lot of people hike to the pond with the waterfall, but this is my secret hideaway. I come here and catch dinner, then go home and cook it up. Do you like fish?"

I could tell from her expression as I turned back toward her that she was horrified at the thought of me catching a fish, killing it, and cooking it up. It was a stark reminder that as attractive as a woman like her was, she'd never get my lifestyle. And I certainly had no taste for her obvious city life.

"Do you catch all your own food?" she asked.

Her horrified expression had turned to curiosity. Maybe she was picturing me chasing chickens around with a net. I smiled inwardly at the thought, but my exterior didn't show it. I'd perfected the steely fa?ade during my time as a Navy SEAL.

"I go to town for supplies once a week, but I have a garden next to my garage. Tomatoes, zucchini, some bell peppers…" I shrugged. "It's part of living off the land."

"Do you drive down this trail?" She looked behind her in the direction of the path where I'd found her.

"There's a back way out," I said. "The locals know it."

"Do you have a job?" she asked.

I opened my mouth to respond, that no, I'd paid my dues. And now, I lived a modest life. But I did work, technically.

"I help out where I'm needed," I said. "I'm a fireman. Rosewood Ridge Fire Department."

I'd point out the logo on my shirt, but then I might have to explain the V in RRVF. Rosewood Ridge Volunteer Fire. My neighbor had talked me into joining up, and to be honest, I was grateful for something to do.

"Hot," she said.

I looked over at her. Was she saying I was hot? My job was hot? Or…

"Yes, fires do get very hot," I teased. Not that she'd be able to tell I was teasing by my stony expression.

"I'll bet," she said.

I stared at her. I'd just about memorized every inch of her that I could see, from the hint of freckles on her nose and cheeks to those gigantic knockers that strained the buttons of her brown, short-sleeved blouse. And then there were the pants that probably weren't meant to fit tight, but her curves wanted to break free.

I'd be all too willing to help with that.

"So what about you?" I asked. "I'm guessing you live in the city. Maybe the suburbs in an apartment."

I hope she didn't think I was stereotyping. I'd gotten pretty good at sizing people up over the years, though.

"Student," she said, shocking me.

Just how young was this woman? She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, but college age was even younger than that.

"I'm getting my DVM," she said. "Doctor of Veterinary Medicine. I'm in veterinary school, second year. It's…a lot."

A sigh came with that statement. In that sigh, I sensed she'd been all work and no play for far too long.

"Have you ever fished before?" I asked.

She looked at me then and I saw her eyes were wide as saucers. "I don't know if you've noticed, but it's getting pretty dark out here."

I shrugged. "There's plenty of light."

And that wasn't just an excuse. These final days of summer were so unbearably hot, I'd gotten in the habit of coming out here at dusk. Even that wasn't cool enough these days.

"You know what?" she asked. "Let's do it."

She started toward my fishing pole. As I watched her backside, I cursed quietly to myself. I was already getting in way deeper than I should with this woman—a woman who was no doubt leaving town in a matter of days. I'd have to be extra careful not to get attached.

It might already be too late.