Page 9 of Wild Hearts

Iwake up, stretching across my bed. I sit up, brushing my hair out of my face, the blanket falling to my lap. My nipples pebble from the fan above me, making me shiver.

Whack. Whack.

“What in the hell?” I mutter to myself, reaching toward my nightstand for my phone.

The screen instantly wakes up and tells me it’s seven-thirty in the morning along with a text message from Josh sent thirty minutes ago.

Josh: Ran to town, be back in an hour and a half.

I slide out of bed as naked as the day I was born and pad to the window to see what the noise is. I look out and see Mick swinging an ax, chopping wood.

“Well, hello,” I mutter to myself.

Mick looks up, making me jump back from the window.

Shit, did he see me?

I force myself away from the window, heading toward my bathroom to get ready for the day. Once my morning routine is done, I head downstairs and brew myself some coffee and turn the oven on to four hundred degrees. I grab my coffee cup and a bottle of water, then slip on a pair of Uggs and head outside.

I take in Mick while walking toward him. He swings the ax down, splitting another piece of wood. He sets down the ax and grabs both pieces of wood, walking them over to a stack. Mick turns toward me, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his forearm, sweat dripping down his defined chest and abs. My eyes track a drop all the way down his abs, between the V of his hips, making me want to groan.

Don’t lick your lips. Don’t lick your lips,I chant to myself.

I tear my eyes away from his lower body and make eye contact. “Good morning.”

I cringe at the breathlessness in my voice, but paste on a friendly smile.

Having him here is going to be a challenge, that’s for sure.

“Morning,” he says gruffly.

I hand him the bottle of water.

“Thanks,” he says, twisting the cap off before taking a long swig.

“You’re welcome,” I say huskily as I watch his throat move with each swallow.

Why the hell do I find every small detail of this man sexy?

Stop it,I chastise myself. I can’t be thinking about him this way. Not only is he Josh’s best friend, but he’s also Nina’s son. I don’t want to mess either of those relationships up when whatever this attraction is runs its course.

“You sleep okay?” I nod my head toward the stack of wood.

“I did.” He nods.

“You sure? It looks like you’ve been out here a while.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Early riser. Sorry if I woke you.”

“It’s all good. I’m usually up by now anyway,” I lie. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

Truth is, I rarely wake up before eight unless I have a tour scheduled. Today’s my day off, which means a little extra sleep before doing stuff around the house and admin work.

“Nah, not yet. Striker ran into town to pick up some supplies for today. I’ve just been out here working on this.” He looks away and rubs his hand on his neck. “It’s hard to stay idle for long. I’m used to getting up before dawn and working long past dusk,” he says, sounding slightly ashamed.

Moving closer, I put my hand on his arm. “My mama always said ‘idle hands do the devil’s work.’ It’s not a bad thing to want to do something. It’s good for your health and soul.” He gives me a small smile, so I change the subject. “How do some bacon, eggs, and pancakes sound? I’m starving.”

He runs his hand across his mouth, nodding. “That sounds good, do you need any help?”

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