Page 3 of Wolfish Desire

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And if just the touch of Kingston’s hand ignites a spark like that, what would happen if I actually gave him a hug to thank him for helping me?

Every single detail about him is gorgeous. Ridiculously tall, with broad shoulders. Yet he’s not your average lumberjack. There’s a refinement in his cheekbones and the line of his jaw. He could be a fitness model – smoldering dark brown eyes, thick brown hair, a way of moving that reminds me of a panther.

Plus, unlike most of the men around here who live in dirty jeans and shapeless, ratty t-shirts, his black jeans are perfectly worn in. The charcoal gray t-shirt stretched just snugly enough across his chest and around his thick biceps looks designer, too.

Kingston puts on some music, and we chat about our favorite artists and songs. After about twenty minutes, he slows down asa truck approaches. They stop next to each other in the middle of the road. “These are the mechanics that I called,” he explains.

I hand Kingston my keys and he tosses them to the guy behind the wheel.

“You have to push the door in a bit and jiggle the key up and down,” I call through the window.

The guy riding shotgun gives me a thumbs up. “Don’t worry, we’ve dealt with plenty of moody cars. She’s in good hands, promise.”

They give me a friendly wave, then drive away.

“Who did I just hand my car over to?” I ask as Kingston begins to drive again.

“That was Walker and Carson Dirty. Two of the three Dirty brothers.”

“Walker Dirty? That sounds like a character on a cheesy police show or something.”

He gives me a sideways grin. “I know. But that really is their last name. Their family has been around here almost as long as mine. Good guys. I trust them to the core. And they’ll bump your repair to the top of the list.”

“Because you’re the one asking them?”

His head tips back and forth. “Maybe. But also, a nice young lady shouldn’t be up here without a vehicle. It’s not like the city where you can walk around or get a cab.”

So he can tell I’m a city girl. Also, he’s totally nonchalant about saving me. Not to mention, he didn’t even ask what the repair might cost.

That, plus the Audemars Piguet watch on his left wrist, tells me that Kingston is seriously rich – and it’s the old money nonchalance that unfortunately I know far too well.

“So, what brings you to Old Hemlock Valley?” he asks a minute or so later.

Part of me wants to spin some story about becoming one with nature or whatever. But with a single glance into his deep brown eyes, I realize I have to tell him the truth.

“I, um, had to get away from my family for a while. They’re very…overwhelming.”

He nods slowly. “Yyyyeah… I’m the second oldest of five brothers. So I’m pretty sure I understand at least part of it.”

“Five?” I sputter. “Wow. I’m the youngest of three daughters. I thought that was bad.”

He shrugs, turning onto the road that leads into Old Hemlock Valley. “Every family in the world is weird. Haven’t met a normal one yet. And hey – sometimes running away from it all for a while is a healthy thing.” He flashes me a dazzling grin. “I was just running away for the afternoon myself, to do some brainstorming.”

“Anything wrong, or just clearing your head?”

“Just letting my mind blank out to figure out some work stuff. That’s when the best ideas happen for me.”

I don’t want this drive to ever end, but we’re approaching town.

“Where am I taking you?” he asks.

I fish around in my purse for my phone. “Let me look up the address.”

“Who are you staying with? I know almost everyone around here.”

“I’m renting a place from some pilot named…Riggs, I think? My dad knows him.”

Kingston slows down quickly and makes a sharp right. “Oh, I know Riggs. This is a more scenic route to his house. Only takes an extra two minutes, too.”