Page 5 of Burly and Possessive

I shake my head. “No. Me and a few guys work the land, keep the place running. But this place here is mine.”

“For how long?”

“A long time. My family has had a land lease on this side of the mountain for the last hundred-odd years. I’m the last of my family up here, and I have the land lease now. The men with me are like family. Most of us were in the Army.”

She nods like she gets it, but I’m not sure she does. Most people don’t understand why anyone would choose to live up here.We’re not cut off from society, but we mostly keep to ourselves. For some of us vets, we just want a simple life after serving our country. There are things you can un-see or un-experience, and which haunt you if you’re not careful.

Her brow furrows, and she looks down at her hands, twisting the blanket between her fingers. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything,” I say, my voice firm. “You were stranded and needed help. I did what any decent person would do.”

She exhales slowly, her shoulders dropping a fraction. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Her eyes drift shut, her head resting against the back of the couch. She’s still holding on to the blanket like it’s a life preserver, but her breathing evens out.

I look at her for a long moment, wild desire coursing through my veins. She’s not mine—can’t be mine—but the thought of her out there, lost and alone, makes my chest tighten in a way that scares the hell out of me.

She will be mine.

CHAPTER 3

LEESA

Asharp knock jolts me awake. I sit up too quickly, my heart pounding from the sudden noise, and blink at the room around me. Morning light streams through the curtains, bathing everything in a soft, golden glow.Where am I?

I look at the quilt around me, then run a hand over my face, trying to shake off the grogginess. The bed is unfamiliar, too firm, and a faint smell of pine and wood smoke hangs in the air. My gaze flicks to the rustic dresser against the wall, the heavy wooden beams of the ceiling.

And then it all comes crashing back and tension squeezes my chest.

Derek with the wedding planner, his mouth sealed against hers and his hand under the skirt of her dress as she pushed her body frantically against his. Me fleeing, sobbing as I got in my car and following the road, not caring where it led me. My car breaking down. Jax rescuing me.

Jax.

Another knock. This one is louder, more insistent. “Leesa? You decent?”

The voice is bright, unfamiliar, and startlingly cheerful. I sit frozen for a second, clutching the quilt as my heart pounds in my chest.

“Hold on,” I call out, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

Rubbing my face, I stand, grab the flannel shirt I wore last night, and pull it on. With one last glance at the door, I shuffle over and open it cautiously.

A woman with wild chestnut hair spilling over her shoulders in loose waves stands on the other side. Her beaming smile is bright enough to rival the sunlight filtering into the room—far too much so early in the morning. She has a bulky duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

Of course this is why there are women’s clothes in a spare bedroom—he has a girlfriend. It shouldn’t matter in the slightest, but jealousy claws at me. Not like I want to trust a man or get married again, but…I can’t help the disappointment as I look at the pretty woman holding out a to-go coffee for me.

“Hi! I’m Andrea, Jax’s sister,” she announces with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for long-lost friends. Her tone is warm, unguarded, and her cheerfulness instantly puts me at ease. Like nothing bad could happen in the presence of such good spirits.

“Um, hi?” My voice comes out scratchy as I blink at her, still trying to shake off the haze of sleep. I don’t know what’s happening, but it feels like stepping into a play and forgetting all my lines. I am, however, very conscious of the relief that washes over me when I learn she’s Jax’s sister, not girlfriend.

Andrea doesn’t seem to notice—or mind—that I’m barely coherent. She steps forward like she’s been invited, offering me the coffee cup. “Sorry for barging in, but Jax is at work and said you needed some things. And I figured you might like some company. He said you had an…eventful day yesterday.” She drops the duffel bag on a small table by the window with a soft thud.

I turn, still holding the coffee she thrust into my hands. “You could say that,” I say, wondering how much she knows.

“Jax mentioned you didn’t have anything with you,” Andrea says, smoothing the edge of a plaid shirt. “So I raided my closet. Flannel, jeans, a couple of sweaters—it’s all practical.” She steps back, hands on her hips, clearly pleased with her work.

I stare at the pile, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and embarrassment. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble—”

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