when you moved here?"
"Yeah."
The leeriness stressing the edges of her expression lifted. She seemed to shrink two inches in front of him as she relaxed, and she was already a foot shorter than him.
A hint of a smile curved her full lips. The frustration always aimed at him disappeared from her face. The blood in his body pulsed through his veins, liking the changes in her.
"Small world," she whispered breathlessly.
That soft puff of breath escaping her left his balls aching. There was nothing small about him, looking at her.
She was a beautiful woman.
Her face free of makeup, she couldn't hide the river of freckles across the bridge of her nose or the green shade of her eyes. Her straight hair was redder in the sunlight and a soft brown in the shadows.
There was nothing about her that showed her claim to be Gene Durham's granddaughter, except her absolute stubbornness about finding the house.
Years ago, Gene went head-to-head with Avery Falls Motorcycle Club, fighting to keep his land while the club wanted to buy him out.
After a yearlong battle of negotiations, a land war, and discovering Gene was more ally than enemy, the club moved ahead with their plans and started blasting the caved-in tunnel on the edge of Gene Murphy's property. While they worked, Gene had kept his distance.
The old man was more concerned about his livelihood and remaining in his house than he was concerned about what the club was doing in the mountains throughout the night.
Until Gene's death, the Avery Falls MC members had to respect the old man for holding up his end of the agreement.
Just because he had trusted Gene, times had changed over the years. Bonnie Durham-Murphy was an added risk.
He'd never known a woman who wasn't nosey. Her kids would get curious and explore. The newness of the area would rub off, and she'd start noticing any activity.
Somehow, he needed to convince Bonnie to leave Avery Falls without her notifying every county and state official of her existence.
"Was he happy?" She let go of his arm. "At the end of his life?"
He gritted his teeth. The last thing he wanted to do was give her more information to bond her to Avery Falls as if her history was rooted in the mountains.
"He loved the knoll more than anything. He was found sitting on the porch in an old rocker when he died, and I'd like to think that was the way he'd want to go." He figured she'd want that information about her grandfather.
She blinked furiously, nodding. "Yes. I think so, too."
He cleared his throat, needing to get away from Bonnie. "I'm going to take off. Enjoy your evening."
She watched him step away, then rushed forward, slamming to a stop before touching him. "Trip?"
He looked at her. She clutched her hands together, only accenting her breasts more. He dragged his gaze up to her face without replying.
She hugged herself, noticing him checking her out. "Thank you."
He had no plans of her staying. In fact, he'd be doing whatever he could to discourage her from making Avery Falls her home. He only needed time to make sure he contained the problem and kept it within the mountains.
Dipping his chin, he left her standing outside the rented RV. He got on his motorcycle and headed back to the clubhouse to meet with Prez.
Whether he wanted to or not, Bonnie had become his problem.
Chapter Four
The boys ran out the front door, letting the screen door slam behind them. Bonnie dropped the box to the floor and stuck her head outside. Prepared to yell at them for escaping the work, she smiled as they grabbed another pile of clothes out of the trunk of the car.
Guilt filled her, and she sighed loudly. Through everything they'd gone through, her sons were troopers.
The minimal fight against moving here was more a show of fear of the unknown than an unwillingness to listen to her.
They'd already gone through more than most kids, not knowing their father and being raised by a single mother. She'd always kept any money problems away from them because she could unload her troubles onto her mom, who'd bolstered her through the hardships.
Once she lost her mom, she realized how much of the grieving process she'd hid from them. The stress had taken a toll on her.
But they were old enough to know what losing a job meant to the family. In the past, if she lost or changed jobs, she already had a new one lined