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There’s no denying the rugged beauty of my new home. Montana is a world away from Missouri. Sure, we have our fair share of rolling hills and natural springs, but they don’t compare to the majestic view of Big Sky country.
A man rolls a wheelbarrow out of the open barn doors but stops when he sees me. Setting the load down, he pulls off his gloves before approaching with a dimpled smile.
“The name’s Levi,” he thrusts a bare hand forward, “Did you make a wrong turn or something? We rarely get pretty ladies like yourself on the ranch.”
I blush at his brazen perusal as he holds my hand for a second longer than necessary. That’s the second time in two days that a man has complimented me. Maybe I should’ve moved to Montana years ago.
“Adeline. I’m looking for—”
“Get your fucking hands off her, Cartwright!” The angry bellow scares the bejesus out of me as I jerk backward, stumbling when the heel of my boot slides on a loose patch of gravel.
Levi reaches out to grab my wrist and halt the trajectory of my body slamming into the ground—again—but Heath appears and shoves him aside, tugging me into his arms instead.
“H... Heath?” I tremble in the presence of his obvious fury. Perhaps Samantha had it right, after all. Because the cloudy expression tightening Heath’s bearded cheeks is full-on growly. Pissed.
“Go check the fence posts on the east flank,” he orders Levi before dragging me into the musty shadows of the barn. Clearly, he doesn’t want witnesses to this confrontation either.
Swallowing hard, fear rolls around in my gut. I’m not afraid Heath will hurt me, even now his hold on me remains careful rather than bruising, but I’m scared to see the flirty charm of yesterday transform into hatred.
“I... I didn’t know about the ranch. About owning it, I mean,” I ramble. “Or that it was your family’s. I... I... wasn’t hiding it from you last night.”
“I know.” He stops us in a—tack room?— where various bridles, brushes, and other ranch objects are organized along the walls.
“Oh.”
His palm smooths over my cheek like it did last night, and the familiar gesture soothes some of my nerves. Surely he’s not about to stomp and yell when his touch is so gentle.
“I’m not mad at you,” he says, tilting my chin up so our gazes meet in the quiet room.
“Oh.” What am I, a freaking puppet? Only capable of expelling one measly sound? Oh? But my mind’s struggling to adjust to the sudden one-eighty in Heath’s demeanor.
“I didn’t like seeing Levi’s hands on you.”
“He was just being friendly, and it was just one hand.” I hold up a finger as if he’s a three-year old who needs a reminder of how much one equals.
“Doesn’t matter. That’s one too many.” His nostrils flare with a ragged breath, and the rapid beating of his heart is obvious from the throbbing vein in his neck. He’s worked up over Levi?
Not me owning the ranch?
Confusion washes away my anxiety. This is when past experience with men would come in handy because I’m having a hard time reading Heath’s mood.
If I were to go off of the romance novels and movies I’ve seen, I’d think he was acting jealous, but that doesn’t make sense. Sure, we shared a moment—or something—outside the community center, but nothing that would warrant territorial feelings.
So I must be reading him wrong.
Except his head swoops down, and before I have time to freak out, Heath’s mouth is claiming mine with shocking thoroughness. His beard scratches at my skin as he angles his head for a better fit, his grip on my chin tightening.
My hands dangle at my sides, unsure of what to do. This is my first kiss. At freaking twenty-nine years old. And I’m frozen with indecision.
Do I grab his waist? Wrap my arms around his neck? Oh my gosh, did my glasses just poke him in the eye?
“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, tenderly readjusting my glasses before dropping a smattering of kisses over my lips. “I can feel you thinking from here.”
“I... I’m not sure... what to do,” I admit. Movies make it look so simple. Virgin heroine lands the man of her dreams as the credits start to roll? No problem, let’s kiss like we’ve done this a million times and fade to black.
In real life, that’s definitely not the case. At least not for me. Heath’s experienced, mature. He’s traveled the world and probably kissed a woman on every continent, and that’s not a knock on his past. I’m just stating facts.
I don’t want to disappoint him.
