by Abby Knox
His face changed when she took off her sunglasses. Was he blushing? His lips parted slightly and his eyebrows softened. There was a slight hint of a smile. Far different from the seriousness with which he warned the various hikers at the trail head that morning. Man, she wished she could see his eyes behind those trendy aviator sunglasses he wore.
He snapped the photo and his entire demeanor changed back to officious and intimidating.
The ranger stepped over to where Ever stood on the rocks, reaching up to return her phone to her.
What happened next only took place in a few seconds, but she would remember them as the longest and most terrifying few seconds of her life. As Ever was admiring the ripple of male muscles under all that khaki, her mind wandered, and her foot slipped.
Stupid, overpriced hiking boots, she thought.
Ever stumbled a bit, correcting herself by trying to fall forward over the boulder. The sexy ranger let go of her phone to grab on to her forearms to steady her. She instinctively turned her head only for a slight moment to regretfully watch her smartphone tumble down the cliff, and a piece of the ancient boulder gave way under her boots and she fell straight down.
She opened her mouth to let out a scream but no sound came out.
She'd read about this exact thing. Several people had died along this trail in recent months, two of them right here at the overlook, from this very spot on this very boulder, probably. On one hand, Ever had made progress conquering her fear of the great outdoors, having bravely clambered up the rock for her victorious photo shoot. But this super hot man she was essentially stalking through the canyon had made her forget what a sheer drop it was underneath that boulder. Several hundred feet.
Welp. If I'm going to die, I'm glad it's at least in the most beautiful place on the face of the earth, and the last thing I saw was the most beautiful man on earth, she thought.
But the beautiful man apparently did not see things that way. His hands stayed locked on her forearms even as gravity determined to pull her down. There is no way he can hold me, she thought.
She thought wrong.
Ever likewise gripped his forearms as her feet scrambled against the crumbling cliffside.
"Don't look down," he said to her. "Look at me."
Ever obeyed. Her feet stopped their frantic scrambling, her heart stopped palpitating, and instead she focused on the ranger's face. His black furrowed eyebrows. The tension in his forehead. His face was utter determination. He was going to save her. Then she saw herself reflecting back in his aviators. That's me. I can do this.
This wasn't exactly what she had had in mind that morning when she'd decided to stalk him through the canyon just so she wouldn't be alone in the wilderness without a clue. She put all that out of her mind because she saw the kind of genuine concern that most people only pretend to have for other people.
He doesn't care a thing about himself. It doesn't matter how far I fall, this person would try to help me.
And the next thing Ever knew, she was safe. She was no longer falling to her death. She was instead falling for the sensation of this park ranger's insanely muscular arms around her waist. He had her. Like she was the weight of a feather.
She soon realized her feet were still not touching the ground.
What was happening? Were they falling together? She was basically OK with that, too.
But no, her feet were off the ground because the ranger had her so fully in his arms he was actually lifting her up and pressing her body flat against his.
"Whoa, there," he said, turning her away from the boulder and setting her down on terra firma.
He failed to let go of his grip immediately, though, and Ever sensed something oozing off of him as his gaze met hers. His stare was hard to read, but impossible to look away from.
His gaze seared deeply into her chest and kept going. All the way down. So far down, her sex fluttered open.
He was really hesitating letting her go.
Was this happening? Or was it just one of the desert's tricky optical illusions? she wondered.
Ever might dismiss all of that conjecture, if it weren't for another thing. She was certain, as he held her against his sculpted body, that was not a National Parks standard-issue flashlight in his pocket.
About the Author
Abby Knox lives a dual life. Fantasy Abby would love to either live on a farm with Ryan Gosling, where she could raise goats and chickens; or be a professional baker and adopt wolves as pets. Reality Abby desires neither to muck out stalls nor to stand on her feet all day perfecting pie crusts for angry customers. So, the ever-pragmatic Reality Abby keeps Fantasy Abby happy by putting her into sweet little works of romantic fiction with her pretend hobbies. Both Abbies hope you enjoy this brand of sweet, sexy — and sometimes weird — storytelling. This is Abby’s ninth book.
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Also by Abby Knox
From the Small-Town Bachelor Series
Take Me Home
Game Face
Written in the Stars, a special Christmas edition
Walk with Me (spring 2018)
Her Big Easy Wedding, a New Orleans Shapeshifter series
Part One: Taking the Belle
Part Two: Having his Cake
Part Three: Chasing the Night
Part Five: Her Big Easy Wedding, series bundle with bonus content!
Stay up to date on these titles and more through Abby’s newsletter!
From the Sisterhood Enchantment, a paranormal romance series
Some Basic Witch
Witch, Please
