by Diane Darcy
“Oh,” said his mom. “Before I forget, I need you to bring the girls to our place for dinner tonight.”
Trevor opened his mouth to argue, but stopped himself. It was pointless. Instead, he said, “Fine. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, dear! See you later.”
He snapped the phone shut. He’d work something out. He would go home for his sleeping bag and tell Elizabeth she had to drive their guest.
He headed back over to a smiling Paul who immediately opened his big mouth. “Now, who exactly is ‘That Girl?’”
Trevor scowled. “No one. Let’s get back to work.”
***
Late that afternoon, Trevor pulled into his driveway to see there were now two cars parked where they had no business being parked.
He sat gripping the steering wheel for a long moment before realizing that, strangely enough, he didn’t want to go inside his own house.
Maybe he shouldn’t.
He considered calling his sister and telling her to just bring out his sleeping bag, but decided that might come off as cowardly. Besides, he wouldn’t be able to stand Elizabeth’s smirk.
He got out of the truck and went around to the back of the cabin. Nothing unusual about that. He always went and talked to Charlie first and no one could say otherwise.
But Charlie wasn’t there. He was probably inside with the girls. Trevor hesitated. He could always go to Paul’s and borrow a sleeping bag. Why hadn’t he thought of that sooner? For that matter, he could just bypass all the nosy people in his life and go buy a new one. Then he could call Elizabeth and let her know he wasn’t coming to dinner. Brilliant plan.
He turned to go as Elizabeth opened the back door. “Trevor? What are you doing?”
Charlie bounded out to meet him.
“What do you mean?” Trevor bent to pet the dog. He couldn’t believe he was so wound up about meeting Honey, which was ridiculous. And what kind of name was Honey, anyway? “I was just coming inside.”
She raised her brows and opened the back door. “Well, come in already, then.”
Ignoring her searching gaze, he walked into the kitchen, but the girl, Honey, wasn’t there. Trevor could hear the television, and Charlie headed into the living room.
Trevor exhaled and turned to Elizabeth. “Look, I’m not really very hungry tonight,” he said, keeping his voice low. “And I’m wanting to get some work done, so I was thinking you could take our guest to mom and dad’s by yourself.”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not hungry? Pull the other one. You’re always hungry.” She waved a hand in the air. “And anyway, I’m not going. Jason will probably show up, and I’m not planning to be there. It’s why I agreed to come and stay at your place. Give my kids a kiss for me, okay?” She turned and headed for the stairs.
Disbelieving, he stared after her, his jaw tightening as he clenched his teeth. Well, he wasn’t going, either. And no one could make him. He’d just tell the girl where to find his parents’ place. She had a car.
Trevor went into his office and slowly turned the combination on his gun safe. It took him three tries to get the stupid thing open so he could finally put his gun inside.
After closing the safe, he stood there a moment, listening to the program on the TV in the living room. A sitcom from the sounds of it. Finally, he wiped his hands on his slacks, and headed out to tell her.
Honey Stevens was on the couch, slim, jean-clad legs crossed, petting Charlie, his massive head resting on her thigh. She looked up at Trevor’s entrance and they both stared at each other for a moment.
She blushed, but was composed enough when she said, “Hi,” added a nervous smile, stood, and came forward to extend her hand. “I’m Honey Stevens.”
Her curls were gone. He’d been thinking about those curls all day, but her blonde hair was completely straight. Her eyes were as blue as he remembered, and surrounded by lashes made sooty with makeup. Her face was pretty, delicate, like the rest of her. Even perched on short-heeled sandals, she barely came to his shoulder.
He slowly reached out and took her hand. It was firm, soft, fragile. Electricity seemed to run from her hand to his and his heart pounded in his chest. What was the matter with him? “Trevor Baron,” he said gruffly.
Her blush intensified as she tugged her hand free. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Trevor nodded, realized he was staring, and looked away.
“I guess we’re going to your parents’ place?” she asked.
Trevor hesitated. Technically she was his guest. He didn’t want to be rude or inhospitable, did he? Besides, his mother just might skin him alive if Honey showed up alone. So it looked like, for now, he didn’t have a choice. “Just give me a few minutes to shower and change.”
Cursing himself for a fool and a sucker, he headed up the stairs.
Chapter Four
About fifteen minutes later Trevor came downstairs wearing jeans and a long-sleeved, fleece shirt, his hair damp. “Ready?”
Honey switched off the television. “Sure.” She glanced around. “Where’s Elizabeth?”
“She’s not coming.”
Honey stilled. “Not coming?”
Trevor crossed the room and pulled open the front door. “That’s right. It’s just you and me. We’ll take my truck if that’s all right with you?”
Honey hesitated. She didn’t really want to go. It had been a long day, she was tired, and frankly, Trevor intimidated her. But she was hungry, and as much as she’d like to simply cancel, if she wanted to wrap up the property deal as quickly as possible, she’d better go. “Sure. Fine.”
Honey headed toward Trevor, glanced up and wondered how tall he was. Around six-five or so. But he seemed bigger because he was packed with muscle. She slid by him and Trevor shut the door and followed. Walking side by side, Honey tried a smile, but Trevor didn’t respond. Instead, he glanced away and pushed a hand into the pocket of his jeans. His full, short beard hid his face and Honey wondered how old he was. Ten years or so older than herself, she suspected.
Trevor opened the passenger door and, holding her elbow, helped her inside. His hand was big, warm through her lightweight sweater, and he smelled really good. A sudden zing of attraction startled her, she sat back onto the seat and, puzzled, watched as Trevor crossed around the front of the black truck.
They started out and, still embarrassed about going to the wrong place, Honey turned toward Trevor. “I’d like to apologize for my mistake in staying at your house. I still can’t believe that happened.”
Trevor turned onto the main road. “No big deal.”
And then of course there was the bed. His bed. Her face heated, she took a breath, and tried not to squirm. “Your sister told me I slept in your bed last night. I’m really sorry about that. I thought I was in the guest room. I’ve moved my things.”
Trevor shrugged. “No harm done.”
Honey usually found it easy to talk with people, but for some reason found herself tongue-tied with Trevor. Big surprise. Maybe because he was witness to victim of the most embarrassing thing she’d done in her life?
Feeling compelled to explain, she took a deep breath. “You see, I had directions, and even though I thought your house came up too soon, everything else seemed to fit. The street, the bear, your last name on the sign. So I--”
Trevor put up a hand. “Really, it’s okay. My parents live a few miles down the road. Anyone could have made the same mistake.”
She opened her mouth again but, instead of saying anything else, clamped her lips shut, sat back and stared at the passing scenery. The green pines were pretty, but after a few moments, she couldn’t stand the silence. “So, Elizabeth told me you’re a game warden?”
“Uh, huh.”
Good grief. Had the guy never heard of conversation? “That must be fun. I sell real estate. I’m going for my brokerage license right now. That’s why I’m here in Redding.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
Another silenc
e. Honey rolled her eyes as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The open window on his side of the truck was causing her hair to whip around, but she didn’t want to ask him to close it. She’d put him out enough already.
He was relaxed, one arm propped on the door frame, his damp hair drying fast, and she realized she really was attracted to him. At a loss, she studied him. He wasn’t even her type, with his dark hair, beard, large body, and silent personality. He was Christian’s total opposite.
But he was cute in a rugged sort of way. And such a big, muscular guy that he actually made Honey feel dainty. At five-seven, that didn’t happen often.
Trevor suddenly did a double-take of a truck driving down the dirt road they’d just passed. He unexpectedly slowed, flipped a U-turn and, and driving fast, turned onto the dirt road in pursuit.
Trevor’s truck bounced its way down the road and Honey threw up a hand to grip the bar over the passenger window. “Isn’t your parents’ house back the other way?”
“Yes.” He didn’t explain his actions, just sped up. When he approached the other truck, he pressed his hand to the steering wheel and honked until the other vehicle slowed, then stopped. Trevor halted behind them, jumped out of the truck, and slammed the door, not even bothering to shut off the ignition.
Wide-eyed, Honey stared at Trevor. “What’s going on?”
“Wait here,” Trevor said through the open window and walked to the two men, one tall and the other shorter, getting out of their own truck.
Honey wondered what to do. She rolled down her window, dug into her purse for her cell phone but, not sure what was going on, hesitated to use it.
The tall man threw up both arms. “What did we do, Warden?” He sounded aggrieved. “We weren’t doing anything.”
Honey couldn’t believe it when Trevor started rummaging in the back of their truck. After a moment he held up a six pack of beer. “You’d better not be drinking and driving.” Even though Trevor’s back was to her, she heard him loud and clear, his deep voice booming.
The shorter man stepped forward. “We’re not.” His voice was aggressive, angry. “We’re going camping. We were going to drink it there.”
“Camping on a Tuesday night?”
Short Man stuck out his chin. “Sure, why not?”
Honey’s heart thumped hard, and she watched as Trevor lifted what looked like a big light of some kind out of the back of the truck. “What’s this?”
The tall man looked to his friend, then back at Trevor. “Nothing. It’s just to light up our campground, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” Trevor tilted his head back. “I’m keeping it. And I’ll be taking your rifles, too.”
Honey felt her face heat with an embarrassment Trevor obviously didn’t share. He was keeping it? Taking their property? What was Trevor doing?
Short Man’s hands went up. “Come on!”
“Hand them over,” said Trevor, his voice hard, implacable.
Honey gripped her phone as both men reached into the cab. Seconds later, they were armed. Trevor wasn’t. Trevor stood, big, tall and resolute. He was a crazy man!
Then slowly, resentfully, the men came forward and handed Trevor their rifles. As Trevor took them, Honey let out a breath.
But Trevor wasn’t even fazed by the whole thing. Easily holding both rifles in one hand, he strode forward and started searching the cab of their truck. Finally he straightened. “You can come by Fish and Game tomorrow and pick up the rifles, but I’m keeping the spotlight.”
Short Man hit the side of his truck. “You’re a real jerk. You know that?”
Trevor smiled for the first time. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
Both men jumped into the truck, flipped a U-turn, flipped Trevor off, and, shouting abuse, took off.
Trevor came back to the truck, stowed the rifles behind the seat, then climbed in as if the confrontation hadn’t happened.
Honey stared straight ahead, not looking at him. “Are you crazy?” she asked between stiff lips.
“What?” He sounded surprised.
“Those men were armed.”
“I know.” Now he sounded confused. “I disarmed them.”
She finally looked at him. “They could have killed you!”
After staring at her for a moment, Trevor laughed, a genuinely amused sound. “Those two? Are you kidding?” Trevor turned the truck around and started driving. “They’re after a bit of illegal poaching, not a prison sentence.” Within a few yards, the driver’s side of the truck started bumping, and listing strangely.
Trevor stopped the truck.
“What?” asked Honey.
He sighed, then glanced at her. “Flat tire. We probably picked up a nail.”
Honey closed her eyes, put a hand to her forehead, and shook her head. “Why am I not surprised?”
Trevor laughed again.
***
She was amusing. He’d give her that. But even so, Trevor would fix the tire as quickly as possible so he could get Honey to his parents’ house and out of his hair.
He shut off the truck and put on the emergency brake. He could tell she’d been scared by the situation and felt bad, and a little embarrassed about the whole thing. His ex-wife hated confrontations, which weren’t a big deal to him, but she’d always gotten upset. Maybe all women did, excluding his sisters and mom.
Retrieving the jack and lug wrench from the back of his truck, he quickly loosened the lug nuts on the driver’s side tire, then slid the jack under the front axle.
Honey came around the truck. She wore open-toed sandals and her toenails were pale pink, like cotton candy. Yummy was the word that popped into his mind. She was so girly and, he had to admit, he liked it.
“Can I help?” she asked.
He was amused again. Did she want to change the tire? “Uh, sure. Why don’t you empty the soda cup in the cab and bring it to me?”
She went around to the passenger’s side and he jacked up the truck until it was off the ground. She came back with the cup and held it out to him.
He removed the lug nuts and placed them inside. “Can you keep track of those for me?”
“Sure.” Honey looked into the cup. “Can I do anything else?”
Trevor hid a smile. “No. I’ve got it.” He pulled off the flat tire and inspected it. “Sure enough, it’s a nail. Big sucker, too.” He showed it to her, then went to lift the tire into the back of the truck. Honey quickly set the cup on a rock and tried to help, but was pretty useless, which amused him further. “Thanks,” he said.
She stepped back. “Anytime.” She tugged her white shirt down over her bared midriff, and he congratulated himself for not staring. “All that weightlifting is really paying off for me, don’t you think?” she asked.
Could Trevor help it if she offered an invitation? He looked down at her body. Slim, feminine, and mouth-watering, but not a bulging muscle in sight. “You lift weights?” he asked doubtfully.
She grinned. “Sure do. About five times a year or so.”
Trevor laughed. Again.
“I’m glad you find me so amusing,” she teased reproachfully as she followed him around the back of the truck.
“Sorry, I can’t seem to help it.” Using the lug wrench, he retrieved the spare from under the truck and carried it to the side of the car.
“You’re really strong. I’d have just rolled it.”
The sincere tone, had Trevor huffing out a surprised laugh, flattered and embarrassed at the same time. He brushed self-consciously at the knees of his dusty jeans, quickly realized it was pointless, and sank down on the ground.
Honey squatted beside him and watched as he put the spare in place on the lugs, then she handed him lug nuts one after another. Their fingers touched each time and, at the slight sizzle running up his arm, Trevor stopped fighting it and admitted he was attracted to her. Something that hadn’t happened in a long time. He tried not to look at her. Just because he was attracted, it didn’t mean he had to do
anything about it.
“You just tighten them with your fingers?” she asked.
It took him a moment to realize she was referring to the lug nuts. “That’s just the first step,” his voice was gruff as he explained. “After I get them all on, I’ll crisscross tighten them with the wrench, both off and on the ground.”
“Oh.” Honey nodded. “My dad teaches me to change tires every other year or so, but I can never ever remember all the steps.” She watched his every move. It was quiet, just birds and insects and her breathing. He fumbled a lug nut.
“Do you need me to do that for you?” she teased.
He picked up the lug nut, blew the dirt off it and wiped it on his shirt. “No.” He glanced at her smiling face, not sure if she were flirting or not. He didn’t have the experience to know anymore, but decided he wouldn’t mind if she were, which surprised him. He tightened the lugs.
“Is that hard to do?”
“No.”
“Can I try?”
“No.”
Honey laughed, the sound tinkling in the air.
Tinkling? Cripes, he had it bad. He lowered the car, tightened the lug nuts again, and put the jack away.
They climbed into the cab of the truck. “So does this happen to you a lot?” asked Honey. “Being a game warden must be hard on your car.”
Trevor shot her a look. “It’s a truck.” He shrugged. “A few times a year, I guess.”
“Yeah, being a realtor has its own set of hazards, you know? I once broke my heel outside a house I was showing and had to wear the tennis shoes I had in my car. It was either that or go barefoot,” she teased.
Trevor fought a smile. “That must have been tough.”
“Oh, it was. The shoes were red and didn’t match my outfit at all.” She waved a hand. “It totally blew the deal.”
Trevor chuckled.
She smiled. “Speaking of real estate, any possibility we can set up a time to discuss the property my boss wants to purchase? Maybe tonight we’ll have a chance?”
