Page 32 of Forbidden Love

Brock stood by the woodpile, axe in hand, swinging with steady precision. His back was to her—hisbareback. Sweet baby Jesus, someone should’ve warned her. A damn sign would have beennice.Danger! Sexy and handsome shirtless Shifter wielding an axflashing alert sign would have come in handy.

She came to a dead stop, eyes locked on the man who looked like he walked straight out of a lumberjack-themed fever dream. Muscles rippled across his shoulders with every motion, and a thin sheen of sweat made his skin glisten in a downright mouthwatering way. The man was chopping wood like he was auditioning for a romance novel cover. Rolling her eyes at that thought, she tried to pull her eyes away but finally gave up because, damn, this man was fine as hell.

She forced her feet to keep moving, though it was hard to walk with her dignity trailing somewhere behind her. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as her gaze moved lower where his jeans were riding low and her resolve was ridinglower.

Focus. Focus on anything else. Puppies. Taxes. Toenail fungus. Anything but the man-shaped thirst trap with an axe.

And then the most horrifying thought hit her:what if he turned around right now and caught her staring?Worse—what if he winked as he slung the ax over his broad shoulder? She slowed again, realizing that he was the cover model and that she was the author playing out the scene with her mind. It was pathetic, and yet, she couldn’t stop looking...dammit.

“Hi.” The small voice came out of nowhere, and Deb let out a startled squeal that would’ve made a squirrel drop dead from a tree. Her hand flew to her chest as she spun around, her heart practically breakdancing in her ribcage.

Ben stood there, wide-eyed, looking up at her likehewasn’t the one who’d just shaved five years off her life.

“You scared me,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath and not look as utterly mortified as she felt. Great. Just great. Busted mid–Brock drool fest by his adorable nephew. She might as well crawl under the porch and live there now.

Ben blinked, clearly unfazed. “Mom told me to tell Uncle Brock that lunch is ready.”

Deb followed his gaze toward the woodpile—and yep, Brock was now looking their way, likely having heard her ridiculous squeak of terror. Wonderful.

“We’re having grilled cheese and chili,” Ben added casually like he hadn’t just caught her ogling his shirtless uncle like the desperate woman she obviously seemed to be. “You like grilled cheese and chili?”

“One of my favorites,” Deb replied with a smile that felt a little wobbly, still trying to reel in her pride. “Does your mom need any help?”

“Nope,” Ben said, already walking off in the direction of the well where Brock was rinsing off, the water running over his arms and chest like something out of a desperate woman’s daydream. Deb quickly looked away because, honestly, she was one long stare away from combusting.

She exhaled, pressing a hand to her still-racing heart. So much for playing it cool. This lunch was going to beveryinteresting.

CHAPTER 15

Brock grabbed his flannel shirt off the porch rail and slipped it on, but his eyes never left Deb.

She looked effortlessly beautiful in a light blue dress, a soft cream-colored sweater hugging her arms, and simple white tennis shoes that somehow made her look even more grounded—real in a way that tugged at something deep inside him. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and that made her all the more captivating.

He’d known she was there the second her foot hit the edge of the property.

Correction—his wolfhad known first.

The second her scent drifted on the breeze, his wolf had snapped to attention, alert and focused like a hound on a scent trail. It was always that way with her. The wolf inside him didn’t just recognize her—it sought her out. It wanted her calm and her fire, her laughter, and even her sadness. And the man? He was finally starting to catch up.

Brock let out a slow breath as he buttoned the shirt. Never, in a million years, did he think his life would take this turn when he came to Lee County looking for Tammy and Ben. He'd come here with a plan: find his sister, make sure she and Ben were safe, and then track down the bastard who'd hurt her and finish what needed finishing. That was supposed to be it—a straight line from point A to point B.

But somewhere along the way, that straight line got tangled—with porch dinners and family moments, with quiet conversations and the pull of a woman who didn’t trust easily but stirred something he couldn’t ignore.

And now? Now he didn’t have a damn clue what his next step would be because walking away suddenly felt a hell of a lot harder than he’d planned.

He watched her laugh with Ben, her face unguarded and lit with a joy so pure it nearly knocked the wind out of him. That smile—God, that smile. It hit him square in the chest, leaving him frozen in place. Everything around him faded until all he could see was Deb.

“Mom said lunch is ready,” Ben’s voice pulled him out of his trance.

Brock blinked, realizing the kid had already made his way back to him. He hadn’t even noticed Ben had walked away—his eyes had been glued to Deb like he’d forgotten how to look at anything else.

“Well, you better hurry and grab your bowl before I eat all the chili,” Brock teased, ruffling Ben’s hair.

Ben laughed, “Not if I eat it all first!” then took off running like a bullet, legs pumping hard as he bolted toward the back porch.

Brock chuckled, shaking his head, then turned back to Deb. “I’m glad you came.”

She gave a small, crooked grin that tugged at something soft inside him. “A deal’s a deal,” she said, then laughed lightly. “Just kidding… sort of. But I do appreciate the invite.”

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