of that life anymore. I haven’t been for a long time. Surely, that’s something you can understand.”
Touché and bravo, she thought as a sense of relief washed over her. “It’s still relevant, don’t you think?”
Another pause, followed by an audible exhale. “To anyone else? No, it’s not. But you ... you’re right. I should have said something, especially since you were honest with me.”
Not completely honest. “Then, why didn’t you?”
“I was afraid it would change the way you looked at me. I mean, you told me you literally moved to the other side of the country to get away from all that.”
“Why would you care what I thought?” she pressed. “Because you didn’t want it to affect how I wrote the article?”
“At first, yes. My personal background has no bearing whatsoever on what we’re doing here, and I didn’t want it coloring your perception, especially when it hit so close to home for you.”
“You said, at first.”
“After spending the day and night with you, I got selfish. It wasn’t about the article anymore; it was about me. I knew our time together was limited, and I didn’t want to waste a moment talking about that. Plus, when you thought back on things, I didn’t want you to think about them when you thought about me. Does that make sense?”
He wasn’t the smoothest or sweetest talker, but his earnest words wrapped around her heart and squeezed.
“Yes, it does. And for what it’s worth, that’s not what I think about when I think about you.”
Silence, and then he asked softly, “What do you think about when you think of me, Bree?”
So many things. His shy smile. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about meteors and tech gadgets. How his ass looked in a pair of jeans while straddling a horse and his broad shoulders bared in the moonlight. Earth-rocking orgasms and the scents of evergreen and sandalwood.
Aloud, she said, “Mountain pies and hammocks.”
“That’s all?”
“Yep. Why? Did something else happen that I’ve forgotten?”
He made the same low, growly, humming sound she’d heard once before—when they were in the tree stand and he focused all of his skill and attention on her—and just like then, the noise resonated through her girliest of bits.
Bree pressed her thighs together and clamped her lips shut, deciding it was time to change the subject before the conversation devolved into phone sex—or worse, she admitted to him she was only an hour away, drove up there, and demanded a repeat performance. “So, why were you so tired this morning?”
Just that quickly, his tone went from growly and sexy to guarded and wary. “Something came up last night that I had to deal with.”
“More trespassers?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
She hadn’t expected him to answer so truthfully. “You didn’t put anyone else in the hospital, did you?”
A pause. “You’ve been talking to some of Sumneyville’s finest, I see.”
“I like to be thorough. And that’s not a denial.”
“No, it isn’t,” he agreed. “Obviously, I don’t know what you were told, but I doubt it was accurate.”
“So, tell me what really happened.”
More silence and then, “It’s all there in the arrest records and court transcripts.”
Arrest records? Court transcripts?
“If you haven’t read those yet, I suggest you do. In the interest of thoroughness,” he said, his voice noticeably cooler than it had been. What bothered her more than the chill was the disappointment now lacing it.
“Nick ...”
“I have to go. Have a safe rest of the trip, okay?”
Bree took the hint. He didn’t want to talk to her anymore.
She couldn’t blame him. First, she’d acted like a jealous girlfriend with the field-trip comment, and then she’d followed up with uncorroborated hearsay from an unreliable source.
There were so many better ways in which she could have broached the subject. On the plus side—if it could be seen as a plus—Nick hadn’t tried to talk his way out of it or make excuses. He’d simply told her to read the facts—something she should have done before she accused him of anything.
Her phone dinged with yet another alert from the airline, reminding her that her flight had been rescheduled. If she wanted to make it, she needed to hit the road. Still, she hesitated. There was so much left unresolved. She couldn’t in good conscience return to California, not yet, not without answers.
Decision made, Bree canceled her flight, notified the front desk she wouldn’t be checking out as originally planned, and got to work. Thanks to her earlier nap, a sense of renewed