It was only a fifteen-minute ride from town, but I white-knuckled it the whole drive. I felt as if I was about ten feet above the road. The house came into view and my heart stuttered as it always did. This side of the lake still had some thunderous clouds over the water.
It made the mansion even more impressive as the eaves were sparking with rainwater while the sun burned off the last of the clouds. I turned off Harriette Lane and even with the dips and ruts of the gravel drive, he didn’t stir.
Man, what was in that stuff?
I spotted the silver Airstream and parked the truck beside it. At least he was smart enough to have a trailer, since the house needed a lot of work to be habitable.
Stepping out, I gave a low whistle. Guess he really did have money. That was no pop-up camper, that was for sure. I tucked his keys in my pocket and went around to the passenger side.
I opened the door and shook him. “Okay, big guy. Let’s get you into a real bed.”
He opened his eyes and the blue was like the middle of the lake. Endlessly, deeply blue. He frowned at me, then he looked out the windshield then sat up.
Wrong move, evidently, because his hands immediately came up to cover his eyes. “Get the hell out of here, Hellcat.”
“You’re welcome for bringing you home. How about you don’t piss me off for five minutes and we get you into that silver tin can, huh?”
He sighed. “Back up,” he growled.
“And let you fall on the ground? No way. I can’t get you back up.” I slid into him, and the scent of cinnamon and coffee enveloped me. “C’mon, I’m stronger than I look.”
“I can walk.” But he jammed his hip into the door as he swayed.
“You were saying?”
He looked down at me, his face dark with menace.
“You don’t scare me.”
He didn’t say anything, just leaned on me until he got his feet working. “Sunglasses. Where are my sunglasses?”
“I have no idea. You weren’t wearing any when I found you.”
“Fuck.” He shut his eyes against the sun, which was pounding down on us now that the storm was over.
“We’ve only got a little ways to go. Just keep your eyes closed if you have to.”
He growled, but he let me steer him toward the Airstream. The widest part of the trailer had some sort of massive silver foot that stabilized it. We kept walking to the end with the door and I leaned him against the side of the trailer. I tried the latch, but it was locked.
I dug out his keys.
“Silver one with black ring.”
“Got it.” I unlocked it and opened the door. I eased him around and to the stairs. He hauled himself up the two steps and staggered into the main living space.
It was a small space, but neat and clean. He pin-balled his way off the counter and down the hallway to the back where a bed was. I followed him to make sure he didn’t crack his head on something and got a taste of his back.
Massive and muscled, check.
The bedroom area was as dark as a cave with blackout curtains on the windows. He was stripping out of his clothes and the ripple of his back muscles made me swallow down a gasp. He turned as he went for his belt. The sun from the front windows showcased the side of him, and I caught a glimpse of an angry line of scars that made a lightning bolt down his chest and side and into the top of his jeans.
No underwear. Just the scar and the line of hair leading to...
“Unless you want a show, I’m good.”
I spun around and gave him privacy, but every inch was burned into my memory. Even under the angry pink of his scars, his body was gloriously muscled.
“Right. I’ll just be out here.”
“You can take the truck.”
“And leave you stranded like this? Not likely.”
“I’ll be fine. Not the first migraine, won’t be the last.” He ripped the curtain closed.
“You’re welcome,” I shouted to him but of course, there was no reply.
I sighed and went back to the front of the trailer. I sat down on the surprisingly comfortable couch and crossed my legs. I was wet, again—maybe even from more than the rain. I didn’t really want to think about that part. Or why I was so intrigued by him, even if he was a complete ass.
Obviously, I was contrary and had been too long without male contact if I found him attractive.
Not that it was the scars that turned me off. Actually, they fascinated me far more than they should. But the man and his shitty attitude should not be the fascinating part.
Yet here we were.
My stomach growled.
And I didn’t get my damn pancakes.
