Page 2 of Forbidden Love

The new voice sent a jolt through her, deep and commanding.

Brock.

Her insides twisted at the sound of his voice. Even now, when she was dangling off the edge of her own damn house, his voice unraveled her. He was a handsome son of a gun, and she definitely took notice, not that she needed a man in her life. Quite the opposite, yet he was all she could think about since meeting the man.

“I’ll catch you,” he said, calm as ever.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Deb huffed, her grip slipping further.

“Deb.” His tone was pure steel. “Let. Go.”

Her heart pounded. The gutter gave another groan. Just get the damn ladder, she wanted to say but she didn’t get the chance. Because in that moment, the metal finally gave way.

And she was falling.

The impact stole the breath from her lungs, not just from the fall. Nope, it was the solid, unyielding strength of the man who had caught her. Brock’s arms wrapped around her like steel bands, his broad chest absorbing the force as if she weighed nothing at all.

For a long moment, she could do nothing but stare up at him, her pulse hammering in her throat. His face was set in a hard line, his dark eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach flip.

She should say something.Anything.

But words refused to come.

“You good?” His voice was rough, the heat of it ghosting over her cheek.

Deb swallowed hard, her fingers instinctively curling into his shirt, and she knew in that small moment she was in deep shit.

CHAPTER 2

The last damn thing Brock needed in his life was a female, especiallythisfemale. And yet, here he was, holding onto her like she was the last woman on earth.

Her wide eyes locked onto his, gold flecks catching in the sunlight, making it impossible for him to look away. She felt small against him, her body trembling slightly from the fall, and something deep inside him—something primal—tightened like a vice.

He’d heard the commotion from the back of the house and hadn’t thought—had onlymoved. Rounding the corner and seeing her hanging from the gutter had stopped his heart cold. His wolf had risen instantly, howling with a fierce, undeniable need to protect her. But it wasn’t just the wolf.

The man in him had felt the same desperate pull, the same gut-wrenching fear at the thought of losing her. He barely knew this woman, but his wolf didn’t seem to care. Clearing his throat, he set her down, steadying her when she stumbled.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice softer than he’d ever heard it. Her green eyes flickered away like she feared letting him see too much.

Brock wasn’t sure what to make of that...ofher. But Hunter’s pissed-off voice cut through the moment like a blade before he could figure it out.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hunter growled, pointing at the roof.

Deb turned on him, her own glare fierce as she threw her hands onto her hips, perfectly mirroring his stance. “Don’t you yell at me, Hunter Foster!”

Hunter’s scowl deepened.

Rolling her eyes, she huffed. “What in the hell do youthinkI was doing? Knitting a damn sweater? I was checking the roof.Again.” She gestured dramatically, sweeping an arm wide. “Most of it is in the yard.”

Brock’s gaze followed the motion, and sure enough, shingles littered the ground.

He clenched his jaw, irritation sparking low in his gut. She had been reckless and stubborn, climbing on the roof. But as his eyes flicked back to her flushed cheeks, wild hair, and eyes still stormy from adrenaline, Brock felt something other than irritation shift inside him.

Damn it. This woman was going to be trouble.

“You’re bleeding?” Hunter’s sharp voice yanked Brock from his thoughts.

His gaze shot back to her. A thin stream of blood trickled from Deb’s hairline, sliding down her forehead. He watched as she reached up, her fingertips grazing the wound before pulling away, stained red.

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