Page 4 of Let Me Be the One
His hair, damp with sweat, curled around his ears and on his neck, somewhat showcasing those broad naked shoulders. Denim-covered legs were braced apart, with sturdy, well-worn brown work boots planted on the ground.
She forgot all about her cousin, and barely noticedthe massive dog beside the man. If she was about to be murdered, well, she’d take that vision with her…
What?No, she wouldn’tdie.
She hadn’t come here just to be frightened to death by some backwoods cretin, no matter how gorgeous he might be.
Irritably, she shrugged Glory off, or tried to, but her clingy cousin wasn’t going anywhere. Callie frowned at the man, then took one decisive step closer.
The dog shot to his feet, a bushy tail wagging and a look of expectation in his intelligent brown eyes. Nice dog. Much nicer than the man who continued to stare daggers at her and did nothing to silence that obnoxiously loud chain saw.
Shouting to be heard, she asked, “Would you mind?”
He merely smiled, not a pleasant smile, either. More like one that taunted.
Again, she tried to shake off Glory.
The dog’s loping approach did the trick. With one final screech, Glory raced off into the thickets, thrashing and crashing behind her.
Abandoned. Oh, well. Glory wasn’t being much help anyway. With nothing else to do, Callie knelt to greet the dog. He, at least, seemed happy to meet her. She’d always loved animals, even though she’d grown up in a pet-free home. Whenever she’d visited her friends, she’d spent time with their dogs and cats.
Animals fascinated her, entertained her and didn’t leave her blank-brained as the hot lumberjack-looking dude did.
Abruptly, the chain saw went silent.
Thank God for small favors. Her ears continued to buzz while she stroked the dog’s thick, soft fur.Showno fear,she told herself as she sensed the man’s approach.He’s probably just a neighbor. Don’t let him intimidate you.
Right. Easier said than done, especially when those big booted feet stepped directly into her line of vision. He stopped right behind the dog.
When he still said nothing, Callie slowly tracked her gaze up his body—as far as his flat, firm stomach, where she stalled. And stared, and… She might have licked her lips.
Not my fault.
She was used to precisely groomed, nearly hairless men, but there was definitely something to be said for body hair on a sturdy male form. Unlike the hair on his head, his chest hair was darker and tapered down to a silky, tantalizing line that bisected his muscular torso, framed his navel and then disappeared into low-hanging, faded jeans.
“This is awkward as shit, with you down there ogling me.”
Embarrassed and possibly a little turned on, Callie cringed at that dark, husky voice. Clearly, that was the wrong reaction, but according to her family and friends, she hadn’t had a correct reaction since cutting Sutter loose.
“Sorry.” Coming to her feet, she racked her brain for an excuse and settled on saying, “Your chain saw startled me.”
“It’s not behind my zipper.”
Her jaw dropped at the risqué comment, but then she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “No, I’m sure it’s not.” Peering around him, she saw the tool in his large garden wagon. He was close enough now that shedetected the scents of hot skin and clean male sweat. Oddly, it hit her like an aphrodisiac. All the recent changes in her life must’ve really stirred up her system. Breaking free of lifelong bonds could do that. Maybe. Seemed like a viable excuse for now.
Deciding to change the topic, she said, “I’m afraid you scared off my cousin.” She had no idea where Glory had gone, and for the moment she couldn’t worry about it. Glory was twenty-five, three years younger than Callie. Surely, she could find her way back to the house.
“I didn’t know you had a cousin.”
That odd answer took her by surprise. “No, I’m sure you didn’t.” Since they were strangers, how could he have known anything about her? After brushing her hand on her jeans to remove the dog hair, she offered it to him. “I’m Callie McCallahan. I grew up around here.”
Some emotion, maybe irritation, narrowed his eyes, making them even darker. He didn’t take her hand. “I know who you are, princess.”
Her jaw locked. That was the awful nickname given to her back when her family lived in the area. She’d always hated it, even though it hadn’t necessarily been meant as an insult. It made her sound aloof, untouchable. Unfeeling, when she’d often felt too much.
It insinuated that her mother and father were royalty, and to small-town Hoker, Kentucky, maybe they were. Her parents had either owned, or had interests in, nearly every business in town. They had the biggest house, sponsored everything from Little League to prom, and kept company with state politicians.
Until recently, they’d dictated every aspect of Callie’s life…and she’d let them.