Page 2 of Cody

Four years later, I had all the electrical done, a new well-drilled, and the windows replaced, the roof just needed a little patching, and the rest of the structure was weathered and grey, yet solid. The inside was going to be the biggest challenge, but before I could start on that I’d had to build a workshop for storage and a place to keep my bike when I wasn’t riding.

From the outside, it looked like a rustic getaway surrounded by towering white birch and balsams. I kept the grass tall because I liked the unkempt look, and the abundance of wildflowers that grew throughout made the whole area look like a Thomas Kinkade painting. It wasn’t unusual for wildlife to get comfortable in my sanctuary. Many evenings I could sit out on my small porch with a beer and watch the deer amble on by.

Damn things weren’t around during hunting season though.

As I neared the turnoff to the barely visible drive that led to my house, I came up to a car that was parked on the shoulder of the gravel road. The first thing my gaze zeroed in on was the rounded, denim-covered ass bent over the open trunk. Whoever it was seemed to be digging around for something.

My gaze went back to that mouthwateringly sexy ass.

“Holy shit,” I muttered beneath my breath as she wiggled that thing back and forth. “I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on that.” I slowed and pulled up a few feet from her car. She must have heard me approach, because she straightened and turned around, her long, black hair falling over her shoulder with her movement.

Our gazes locked, and I fell headfirst into a pair of the prettiest blue eyes I’d ever seen. Her beautiful face was flushed, but there was a sparkle in those smiling eyes that held me captive. Almost as much as the full tits that were stuffed into a t-shirt that read, “What’s better than sex?” and below that, the answer—“Coffee.”

I had serious doubts about that, but it gave me a legitimate reason for keeping my gaze on her chest.

Shit.

She was a keeper, and I didn’t do keepers.

Maybe she was just driving through the area. Maybe she was married with a half dozen kids. Maybe, if I was lucky, she played for the other team. Because one thing was certain—if she was a local, I was in trouble.

Big trouble.

Chapter 2

Alina

The distinctive sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires of an approaching vehicle warned me that someone was driving up behind me. I straightened and turned around to see a large, single-cab truck pulling over to the side of the road. I wasn’t an expert on vehicles, but I could tell that this one was new and expensive and probably had a custom paint job.

My gaze locked onto the man who was sitting behind the wheel as he turned the truck off. From what I could make out, he fit the large truck, because he was big, with a mop of deep brown hair on top of his head. It wasn’t until he got out that I saw that the sides of his head were shaved and there was a sprinkle of grey in his beard. I guessed his age to be somewhere around mine, in his mid-forties.

The second thing I noticed was that the man wasn’t just built big, he was tall. Way taller than my five-foot-six, and the closer he got to me, the smaller I felt. I had to look a long way up. My ex was tall, but even this man would tower over him. I hid my sudden nervousness behind a smile. I didn’t recognize him as anyone I’d known growing up in Coldwater.

I wasn’t really scared of the man. But I was instantly and insanely attracted to him.

That kind of thing didn’t happen to me often.

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