Page 31 of Love Me Dangerous

“Where did you learn all of that?” He’s probably going to call me nosy again, but I can’t help it. Ava’s dubbed him the “International Man of Mystery” even though Canada hardly counts as a foreign country. Is that why I can’t get him out of my mind? He’s a puzzle I crave to unlock? Or is it the broad shoulders and rare smile and those devastating blue eyes?

“My dad used to take in injured raptors.”

I try to cover my surprise by getting really focused on wiggling one of the metal posts from the ground.

“He’d fix ‘em up, then release them.”

Knowing he has family is like a soft hug around my heart. “And they survived?”

Out of the corner of my eye, Zach nods, his face set in a hardgrimace as he clips a section of wire. “How do you know which fences can be torn out?”

I get the feeling he’s doing that conversation-flipping thing again—but I don’t mind as long as he’s not running away from me. “The university did a study a few years ago. Mapping and cross-referencing. A lot of these were illegal to begin with.”

“Your dad involved in this project?”

I question him with a glance—he knows who my dad is?—but he’s focused on wrapping the stiff wire we’ve just freed into a coil.

“Yes and no.” I cut through the top U-bolt on the next post, but the wire is so stiff that it stays taut. “He helped get the project underway, but he works long enough hours as it is.”

“Who’s in charge of monitoring all of this?”

“There’s a couple of stakeholders, but I only know Dustin. He manages the volunteers.”

“Where’s he today?”

“Probably fishing.”

Zach eyes me, but he’s quick to look away when I toss down the post, breathing hard.

“This must be important to you,” he says.

“Not just to me.”

He cocks his head, a curious look on his face.

Explaining this is complicated, and it’s not that I can’t unpack it for him, it’s just rare that anyone asks. “My little sister, too.” It’s not a lie. Linnie is a force to be reckoned with when it comes to animal rights, and she’s only twelve.

“What about your brother?”

I shake my head. This is also a complex topic. “He cares, but differently. He’d rather do his own thing.”

“So, more of a creative type?”

He’s quick. “Yeah. Right now, it’s making films.”

Zach secures the coil of wire with twine. I can’t help but drink in the confident way he moves and the easy strength in his arms and shoulders. Was he an athlete in his previous life? A cowboy?

When he held me for those brief moments, his strength was allaround me, but it wasn’t suffocating. It’s confusing as hell. I don’t need anyone to protect me or shelter me. That’s my job.

“What does he film?” Zach asks, pulling me back to the conversation.

We’re nearing where we clipped the wire to free the owl. What would I have done if Zach hadn’t been here? I have my radio, but Dad is well past its range today, meaning I’d be left with raising the sheriff. Who knows how long I’d be waiting for his help.

I shrug. “He makes these shorts. He writes the scripts and stuff.”

“You don’t approve.”

How did he get that? “I think it’s great. He’s making one about The Winter Range Project.”

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