“Nope. Realized I had a prude for a neighbor and got some while I was out today.” The hint of a smile cracked her tough exterior.

He returned it and watched as she fidgeted with her hands, picking the dirt from under her nails. He’d made her nervous but hadn’t a clue how.

“I’m not a prude,” she argued, attempting the hands-on-her-hips move again, only to fail a second time. Finally, she sighed, left her arms hanging awkwardly by her sides. “I just didn’t know why my neighbor was shirtless and waking me up when I normally go to bed on visits home, that’s all.”

She thought she’d recovered nicely, a smug smile finally breaking through. Until he asked her, “You not have shirtless guys over often, then?”

Owen enjoyed making her uncomfortable, if only to watch the emotions flit across her face like the shadows of clouds on his fields. He was good at reading people—both a job liability and reward from his time in the Marines when knowing that information could save his or his men’s lives—but she would have been a quick read if he was blind and didn’t read Braille.

“No, I… that’s not what I… not the way I…” Paige stammered, finally throwing the dowel to the ground in what he would only call a temper tantrum before storming off towards her house.

“Hey,” he called after her, reaching her in a stride and a half, “that’s not how I meant back there to go,” he admitted.

“Yeah, well then how did you see making fun of me playing out?” she shot back at him. She was a pistol, that was for sure.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I just couldn’t help it. If you want to play, you’ve got to be prepared for a worthy opponent.”

“Who says I want to play?” She frowned at him, her brows back together in the center of her forehead.

“Fair enough. It’s not a game to me, though,” he added, his voice more serious than he’d intended it. He touched her face, rubbed at the wrinkles the frowning caused, smoothed them with his thumb. “Truce,” he said, offering her his hand.

She took it, her frown softening into something resembling a smile.

“Why did you come over anyway this morning?”

“Oh yeah, that,” Owen said, laughing.

So much had happened already in the first half of the day, he’d almost forgotten about the bear. He filled her in, sparing no details. Her face registered shock, then awe as he told her of fixing it up with Brad and grabbing a beer afterwards.

“Is the bear still out there?” she asked, her voice a little shaky.

“Well, yeah, him and a couple dozen of his closest friends, I’d imagine,” Owen said, laughing again as her eyes widened. “You do know you live in rural Montana, don’t you?”

She playfully punched his shoulder. “I do, but I haven’t seen a bear down here ever. Up on the trails above our valley, sure, but never this low.”

“Your brother thinks they’re looking for food and water, that both are probably pretty scarce at the higher elevations. He’s not on my property anymore, though, so that’s a win I’m happy to take.”

“Makes sense. You guys talk about all this on your little man-date?” she asked, one corner of her mouth turned up in a crooked smile.

“That and the pretty girls around here,” Owen said, winking at her. She swatted at him again.

“I’ll bet. Let me know if you find any—I’ve heard they’re as elusive as black bears used to be.”

“They aren’t that hard to find,” Owen said, all sarcasm stripped from his voice. He stepped towards her, heard her sharp intake of breath when he got within a couple inches of her. She clearly hadn’t expected him to drop the playful banter so quickly. He hadn’t either, but couldn’t help it. One minute, he was enjoying teasing her, then his body seemed to want more. So much more.

“You aren’t going to kiss me again, are you?” she asked. Her voice came out a throaty whisper, and Owen swelled against his jeans.

“Not here. I was thinking about it, though.” His reply came out as a soft growl, and he swore he heard her purr in reply.

“Where, then?”

Now he pressed up against her, forgetting all about his promise to her brother that he didn’t have “those types” of feelings for Paige. He didn’t, though, not really. The emotions brewing between them were so much more complex than just prurience.

“Let me take you for a ride,” he muttered into her hair. She pulled back immediately, the mood gone with the slight breeze generated by her swiftness.

“Excuse me?” she sputtered. This time, she didn’t seem to care about the dirt. Her hands rested firmly on her hips, and she stared after him, open-mouthed.

Owen got what he’d said just a few seconds too late.