“Yep, I find it really hard to turn off that switch.”

I searched through the box for sterile gauze. “What switch is that?”

“I’ll leave that for you to figure out.”

“Oh. Jeez, you’re a one track train heading in a single direction, aren’t you? Now hold still.”

“Not going anywhere, darlin’.”

Normally, being called darlin’ would raise my hackles, but something about the way Jem Wolfe said darlin’ caused a little piece of me to melt. Even with Everly’s persistent warnings, I was having a hell of a time staying immune to his charm. And his physical presence wasn’t helping matters. His muscular, bare back stretched between impossibly wide shoulders. Even the way his hair curled up at the base of his neck was appealing. And the tattered scar on his jaw gave him another layer, a dimension that evoked a hardship endured, and I’d more than once had the urge to run my fingers over it.

I’d volunteered to help him. I took a deep breath to gain focus. Up close the wound was far more than a scratch. I reached into the metal box and pulled out a bottle of antiseptic to pour on the gauze. “I think you left a little more flesh out there than you realize. This passed the scratch stage several layers of skin ago.”

“Don’t even remember it happening.” He was completely relaxed. I was anything but.

He’d just come from an ice cold pond, but heat was radiating off every inch of his skin. Badly, I wanted to smooth my palms over the layers of muscle in his shoulders and arms. I pulled in a steadying breath, doused the gauze with antiseptic and pressed it over the cut. His shoulders tensed some as I wiped the medicine across the wound.

“Am I hurting you?” I asked.

His back vibrated with a low laugh. “Not exactly. But if I sit between your long legs much longer with your sweet warm breath tickling my neck, I will be hurting.”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or completely disturbed by your suggestive remarks.”

His hard body shook with another silent laugh. “Well, since you haven’t hopped off this bench and stormed out of here, first aid kit in hand, I think we can skip disturbed.”

There was no way to deny that sitting this close to a half naked Jem Wolfe was stirring up just about every physical reaction possible. I needed to finish the first aid and get back to work.

I cleaned the skin around the gash. “It’s not perfect, but at least it’s free of pond residue. I can tape some gauze over it so your shirt won’t stick to it.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He leaned down, and I watched with complete and ridiculous fascination as his arm, shoulder and back muscles contracted and stretched in the simple act of pulling on his shirt. He lowered the t-shirt slowly over the cut and swung his leg over the bench. I was still straddling it and facing his profile. It, too, was chiseled perfection.

I shook my head to snap myself out of my reverie where I seemed to be cataloguing all the man’s hard to resist qualities. Everly would not have warned me away from him if she didn’t have good reason. But I was still looking for that good reason.

He reached under the bench for his boots.

“But your feet will be wet.”

He smiled as he untied them. “I work on the pond. They are always wet.”

“Oh, right. Stupid me.” I swung my leg over the bench and returned the unused supplies to the first aid kit.

“Where are you staying, Woodstock?” The nickname should have irritated the heck out of me. But, just like darlin’, the way he said it made me hope that everything Everly had said about him was wrong.

“I’m staying with a girl I met on the road. Her name is Everly.”

He looked up from tying his boot. “Landon’s niece?”

“Yes, that’s her. She’s been really great. Even made me lunch today.”

He nodded and returned to his second boot. “Everly’s had it tough, and her uncle—well—I guess they’ve already filled your head with horrible Wolfe stories.”

“You mean like Red Riding Hood?” I said with a laugh, but his mouth was pulled in a grim line as he finished tying his boots.

I decided it was my cue to get back to the office. “Well, my Florence Nightingale impersonation is over, and now it’s back to the file disaster.”

He straightened. Bringing up Everly and her uncle had changed his mood abruptly. Just like on the road, when I’d told him I was staying in Blackthorn, his face had turned hard as stone. I stood up to walk out, but he grabbed hold of my wrist.

I looked down at him. He held me just roughly enough that I should’ve been a little concerned. But I wasn’t. Every time he touched me, a familiar sense of relief washed over me.

He stared at my hand. “Nothing about this place is as it seems. You don’t want to dig too deep.” His brown gaze lifted to my face, and suddenly, all of it, the constant lines of sorrow in his expression, the brutal scar on his otherwise remarkable face, the deep, lost tone of his voice made me want to trust him. “Whatever it is you’re looking for, Tashlyn—give it up for good.”

I swallowed back the ache in my throat and stared down at him. “You don’t understand. I lost a piece of myself. I can’t give it up.” I pulled my hand from his and walked out.

Chapter 8

Jem

It had been a long, fucking day, and I was regretting my decision to hang out at Rotten Apples. The usual backroom poker game had been cancelled, and instead of a band, the manager was setting up the stage for karaoke. About the only thing that could make the night worse was if they announced that they’d replaced all beer with their famous apple martinis.

Katy, a girl who I’d occasionally hung out with mostly because we both liked casual sex, walked in and headed straight to my table. She pulled out a chair.

“I like that sweater,” I said just before taking a drink of my beer.

“You say that about all my sweaters.”

“That’s because I like them all. Especially when they are tight like this one.”

She leaned over and rested her hand high up on my thigh. “So, is it true?”

“That your hand on my leg is making my cock hard? Yep, it’s true.”

She laughed, pulled away her hand and smacked my shoulder. “God, you’re so damn predictable. No, is it true you pulled Finn Harris from the pond?”

“Yep, he fell in, and I pulled him out.” Finn had gotten off with just a bad concussion. The doctors had released him only a few hours after he was admitted. He’d been dealing with a shitty ass headache, but it wasn’t too big of a price to pay. I, on the other hand, had been suffering after Tashlyn’s first aid treatment in the locker room. And I hadn’t stopped thinking about her since.

Dane walked back from the bar with another pitcher. Katy shot him a bitchy scowl. My brother ignored it because he couldn’t have cared less. It was one of the traits I envied in him, the ability to not give a damn what anyone thought or said. I was starting to harden myself to his way of handling other people, but I wasn’t quite there yet.

Katy scooted her chair closer and leaned against me so that her tits were pressed solidly against my arm. “I think you should buy me a couple of drinks, Jem Wolfe, and see where it gets you.”

I grinned at her. “Since when do I need to get you drunk to get between you and your panties?”

She leaned back and made a good show of acting shocked. It lasted for all of two seconds before she pressed against me again. “I’ve got my dad’s truck tonight. The one with the roomy backseat.”

“And the gun rack,” I added. “Don’t forget your dad’s hunting rifles. I know I never forget them cuz I figure one of those rifles is going to take my head off when he finds out I’ve been fucking his daughter in the backseat of his truck.”

“I know you, Jem, dangerous shit like that only makes you want it more.” She ran her tongue across her bottom lip. “But maybe you’re just not in the mood tonight.”