by Zoe Chant
He took down a chainsaw from a shelf between two studs on the wall, while Crystal thought about how laid back these rural people were. In the city, nobody would even so much as mow your lawn without agreeing on a price and possibly signing a contract beforehand.
Cody shook a small gas can that he'd found on the floor underneath the chainsaw's shelf; it sloshed. "See any tools around here anywhere?"
"How about this?" she asked, freeing a large metal toolbox from its prison of dusty spider webs. It was heavy enough that she had to pick it up with both hands.
"Perfect. Let's get some light."
She followed him to the patch of sunlight just inside the door, and watched while he unscrewed the side panel on the chainsaw and poked at what was inside. "This is in really good shape," he remarked. "Your grandpa took care of his tools."
Crystal tried not to preen. It wasn't even a compliment directed at her. But she could tell already that she wanted Cody to think well of her.
"You could go over to the house while I get this running," he went on. "No need to stay unless you want to. It might take a few minutes."
"That's okay. I needed a break from cleaning anyway. It's no bother."
It was Cody she found herself watching, as he worked on the machine: the downcast fringe of his light-brown eyelashes, the way he bit his lower lip when he was concentrating on something, leaving a light imprint of his teeth in his lip's fullness.
She wouldn't mind an imprint of those teeth in her skin ...
What's happening to me? She couldn't remember having such a powerful, visceral response to anyone before. Maybe it was just that it had been way too long since her last date ...
But it didn't feel that way. This felt like something different, something primal, as if her hindbrain had taken one look at him and gone, Yes. That one.
"There we go," Cody said, looking up and flashing her a smile. It was too fast for her to jerk her gaze away and pretend she hadn't been staring at him, so instead their eyes met with a quick, electric connection. The moment held long enough for his smile to begin to fade; his eyes darkened with stirrings of arousal before he wrenched his gaze away. "Right, yeah—I'm just gonna see if it'll start, if you want to step back a little? It's going to be loud."
She stood back. The chainsaw had a pull handle, and Cody gave it an effortless wrench with one strong arm. The engine coughed into life. Cody experimentally squeezed the handle and it revved shrilly. Crystal had to resist the urge to cover her ears.
"Perfect," Cody called over the noise of the machine. He hit a button on the handle and the engine died; her ears rang in the sudden silence. "I can just run down the road and get that cut for you. Want to show me where?"
"Sure. Yes. I'd love to."
She hurried to close the front and back doors of the house, leaving the windows open to let the wind carry out the last traces of mustiness. Cody pulled the truck around to the front of the house, detouring around the collapsing poles of what had probably once been some kind of fence or trellis.
"Looks like there was a nice garden here, back in the day," he remarked as she climbed up to the truck's passenger seat. "I remember old man Martinez, your grandpa, used to grow beans and tomatoes out here. Some fruit trees back of the barn, too."
"Really?" She twisted around in the seat, looking out the back window. It just looked like trees to her.
"Apples and cherries, if I remember right. I can help you look for 'em later, if you want me too."
"Yeah, I'd love to." She pointed ahead, toward the break in the trees where the little hill dropped down to the creek. "That way. You'll have to drive through a creek. That'll be okay for the truck, won't it?"
Cody laughed. "Sure. No problem at all."
She liked his laugh. She liked his smile. Damn it! Why did she have to meet him here, of all places? Why couldn't he have been a customer in the bookstore, or a barista fetching her coffee order at the neighborhood coffee shop she liked?
You know why. She couldn't imagine Cody in the city, with his mud-splattered boots and that wide-shouldered, powerful build that came not from working out in the gym, but from a lifetime of laboring with his hands.
You're not staying, she reminded herself. You know that, right? Two weeks, down to less than a week and a half by now, and she'd be headed back to St. Louis, back to her real life.
But there was no reason why she couldn't have some fun while she was here, right?
4. Cody
She was his mate.
She was his mate.
Remy was going to be telling him I-told-you-so until the end of time, and he didn't even care.
He wasn't sure if it was just the mate-bond making her seem perfect, or if she really was perfect, not that it mattered much. She was the perfect height, the perfect amount of curvy. Her dark ponytail flipped in the perfect way. Even the smudge of dirt on her dusky cheek drew his attention to her full lips and accentuated the perfection there.
She was cute and beautiful and amazing and he got, oh how he got, why Remy had been willing to fight a whole shifter biker gang for Saffron, why Gannon had challenged a much bigger alpha grizzly in a fight he couldn't possibly win for Daisy. He would have fought a thousand alphas if Crystal's life was in danger.
Crystal. Even her name was perfect. It sounded small and delicate and lovely, but with rugged toughness underneath. Like her.
"Have you lived here for long?" Crystal asked, as he drove through the small creek at the base of the hill. "Oh, wait, you said you knew my grandfather, so you must've lived out here all your life, or at least most of it."
"All my life," Cody confirmed. "We've owned the place next door for generations. My cousin Alec owns it now."
"Do you like it?" she asked, giving him a sultry look from those long-lashed eyes.
"I love it," he said wholeheartedly. "Ranching is my life."
But even as he said it, he wasn't sure if it was true anymore. His entire life had been devoted to the ranch, but now ...
Now, a part of his life belonged to her. And maybe all of it, soon.
"What about you?" he asked. "This must be a big change for you, moving back here."
"Moving?" Her quick look was wide-eyed. "Oh, no. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I'm not fixing up the ranch to move into it. I'm fixing it up to sell."
"Sell?" he repeated, thinking for an instant that he'd heard wrong.
"Yes, I'm only here for two weeks and then I'm headed back to Missouri. I live in St. Louis."
Cody's bear, which had been curled contentedly in his chest, basking in the presence of their mate, woke with a gruff snort. Leaving? What? No, she can't!
Settle down, you big idiot, Cody retorted. She hardly knows us yet. She just got here. And she's human, so I don't know even know whether she feels the mate bond at all.
But she definitely felt something. He could see it in her heated gaze, smell it in the faint tang of arousal on her skin.
So he pushed down the burgeoning panic, most (but not all) of it coming from his bear, and asked, "What do you do in St. Louis?"
"I work in a bookstore. I'm the assistant manager."
A bookstore. Well ... there were little businesses all over, right? There was a used bookstore over in Spring Meadow. Tara and Saffron liked to take trips down there. Maybe she could work there. Or maybe clerking at the gas station in Wildcat Forks would be almost the same thing ...
Stupid, stupid, he accused himself. It's not the same thing at all. But anyway, she just got here. She doesn't even know the place yet. We've got two weeks to show her that she has something to stay for. We can do that, right?
A glimmer of sunlight alerted him to something ahead in the overgrown driveway, and a minute later he pulled to a stop in front of Crystal's little car. He almost wanted to laugh, looking at it. Out in the boonies like this, everyone drove trucks or Jeeps or Subarus. No wonder she'd worried his truck couldn't make it through the creek, if this was what she was used to driving. This l
ittle thing didn't even look like it could make it up the hill.
"You drove all the way out here in that?"
"I'm hearing judgment. That's definitely judgment."
"No, not at all," Cody said quickly. "Hey, I bet that car is great for running you around in town. It's just, out like this, you need something that's got some ground clearance."
"It's not like I'm going to buy a new car for a two-week trip." And there it was again, the reminder that she wasn't here for long. Cody wondered if it was only his own hopes that made it sound like there was regret in her tone. "Anyway, you're gonna cut the tree out of the way, right?"
"Right." He opened his truck door and hopped down. As he got the chainsaw out of the back, he said over his shoulder, "Sorry to just leave you hanging. I hope you won't be bored."
"No," she said, sounding slightly choked as she watched him casually sling the chainsaw out of the back of the truck one-handed. "No, I'm sure I won't be bored at all."
He decided to take her at her word. "Well, stay back there by the truck so you won't be in any danger."
He revved the machine and got to work sawing the log out of the way. It was a hot day; his shirt was quickly drenched with sweat, clinging to his skin. He looked up to make sure Crystal was staying back. She was leaning against the truck, and her gaze on him was hot enough to scorch.
She feels the bond. His bear was smug.
We can't be sure of that. But the way she was looking at him made him think his bear was right.
He needed to talk to one of his cousins' human mates. Tara or Charmian or Daisy could tell him if they'd felt the bond immediately or if they had needed some time. It was a subject that he'd never even thought to broach with them before. Of course, when he didn't have a mate of his own, it was also a subject he'd never had much desire to dwell on.
Things were different now.
What happens to us if our mate leaves? His bear was plaintive.
Nothing. We aren't going to lose our mate.
But she wants to leave.
Cody gritted his teeth and bit the chainsaw into the log, sending up a shower of sawdust. Nothing was as single-minded as a bear once it got fixated on something.
Even if she did leave, though—even if the worst came to pass and he couldn't convince her to stay—there was another option.
He could go with her.
He'd never been able to imagine himself living anywhere other than here. Even when he'd left to take some college courses in agribusiness, he'd known all along that he was coming back. And it had still been difficult.
Could he live in the city?
If our mate is there, it's home. But even his bear sounded uncertain.
"There we go." He swiped the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead and put the chainsaw back in the bed of the truck. He'd cut the log into segments, each about a foot and a half long. "Want to help me load these?"
"In the truck bed, you mean?" But she gamely picked one up. Oh yes, city girl Crystal had all the makings of a rancher. She would love it here, he just knew it; all he had to do was show her.
"Yeah, no sense letting perfectly good firewood go to waste. I can split it up for you."
"What, for the ranch house, you mean? Oh, that's so kind of you. It'll be a great benefit for the new owners."
Cody tried not to let the mention of her all-too-imminent departure puncture his pleasure at working side by side with his mate. He enjoyed her voluptuous curves as she bent to pick up each piece of cut wood. When they'd loaded it into the truck bed, Crystal leaned on the side of the truck and wiped her forehead.
"The day's really getting too hot to work outside. I should've done it the other way around, started with the yard work in the morning and then cleaned the house in the afternoon. Not to mention that, after cleaning all day, I'm bushed now. And starving." She turned to him with a smile. "Cody, have you had lunch yet? Want to show me where the good restaurants are?"
He'd had a sandwich back at the ranch, but he was already hungry again. Anyway, even if he'd just had a seven-course meal, he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to have lunch with his mate. "I could sure eat. Trouble is, we don't really have a lot of five-star eateries around here. Nothing like what you're used to in St. Louis, I'm sure. Actually, the only restaurants in the nearest twenty miles are Marge's Diner in Wildcat Forks, and the Boss Hog, but that's a biker bar on the highway."
"Wildcat Forks is the little town at the crossroads, right?" Cody nodded, and she grinned. "I'm staying in the motel there. I had dinner last night at the diner you're talking about. It's a nice place; I like it."
"They have great burgers, and pretty good meatloaf on Thursdays."
"I could really use a burger right now."
"I'll buy," Cody offered. "Let me welcome you to Pinerock County with one of Marge's famous burgers."
"I will absolutely take you up on that." She had dimples, he noticed. There was nothing about her that wasn't perfect. Just being this close to her made him yearn to reach out and stroke her skin with his fingertips, find out if it was as soft as it looked ...
"And you can tell me about my grandfather," she went on, and Cody jolted out of his brief fantasy. "I'm sure you must have some stories about this place when it was still a working farm."
"I didn't know your grandpa very well," Cody protested. "I was just a teenager when he died. Don't want you to be disappointed or anything."
Dimples again. "Tell you what. I promise not to be disappointed if you'll tell me what you remember."
Dazzled by her smile, by the intoxicating presence of his mate, what else could he say? "Of course I will."
5. Crystal
Over burgers at the diner, with their knees tantalizingly close together under the plastic table, Cody told her what he recalled of the old Martinez farm. It sounded like her grandfather had been quite a character, Crystal thought, which certainly fit with a guy who had supposedly hidden a fortune somewhere around his property.
She wished she dared tell Cody the truth about why she was asking so many questions. She knew he thought it was just curiosity about an elderly relative she'd hardly met. And it was that; she was fascinated by his stories of a man she only remembered as a large, imposing presence who'd argued with her father a lot.
But she also hoped to get an idea of what her grandfather might have considered a suitable hiding place, and for that matter, what sort of thing might be hidden in it. At this point, she had no idea what she was looking for: a stash of old coins, a safe with money in it, some sort of valuable antique item. Her father hadn't known; all he knew was that his father had hinted at some kind of valuable inheritance, but never told him what it was.
And listening to Cody's stories, even while she was laughing as he told her about the time their two families almost ended up in a feud over one of her grandfather's cattle who strayed onto the Circle B and got mixed up with their stock, she couldn't help thinking that not a single one of Cody's stories about her grandfather even hinted that anyone else in town thought he had a treasure buried on his land.
There might not be anything at all.
In which case I have to sell the farm; I have no choice. Otherwise my dad's medical bills will bankrupt the whole family.
She hadn't realized she would feel so conflicted about it. Before she'd driven out here, she thought it would be pretty easy. She'd either find a treasure, or she wouldn't. At the end of her allotted two weeks, she'd find a real estate agent to list the farm for her, and she would head back to St. Louis.
But she hadn't expected the sense of instant connection that hit her as soon as she set foot on the farm. Nowhere she'd lived had ever made her feel that way before. She'd always considered herself a city girl to the core, but as soon as she saw the farm, she felt as if she'd come home.
And so far, the deprivation of living in a rural county hadn't bothered her nearly as much as she thought it would. She was used to being able to see concerts and symphonies, to buy food from
all around the world right down the street from her apartment. But she liked the little diner; she liked the solitude and the sound of birdsongs.
And leaving would mean leaving Cody ...
We've only just met, she thought desperately, as he gave her a smile that made her stomach do loops and flips. This is ridiculous! What am I supposed to do, rearrange my whole life for a guy I've only known for a couple of hours?
But she'd dated a lot of guys in the urban dating scene, and not a single one of them gave her that sense of instant connection that she'd felt with Cody. Back at the truck, she'd had to struggle not to just climb onto him. Even now, every time his knee brushed hers, it was like a jolt of electricity went through her, a little thrill that shot straight to the heat between her legs.
I'm sitting here having a burger with this guy, and I'm getting more turned on than I've ever been. What's wrong with me?
Maybe this was what it was like when you found The One.
And if he is The One, how can I even think about going back to St. Louis without him?
She realized suddenly that the conversation at the table had fallen into a lull; Cody had wrapped up an anecdote about her grandfather and she hadn't moved to fill the gap. She'd been too busy staring at Cody, lost in his blue-gray eyes and distracted by her urge to reach across the table and touch the rough dusting of stubble catching the light slanting through the window.
"Sorry," Cody said, and Crystal forced herself back to reality. "You must be getting bored, listening to me ramble."
"No," she said quickly. "I'm not bored in the slightest. I'm the one who asked you, remember? I hope I'm not boring you, making you talk about the Martinez farm all day."
"Not at all. I love this place. This whole county, I mean. After living here all my life, there's hardly a part of it that's not full of memories. Heck, right here in this diner is where my cousin Axl met his ma—er, his wife, Tara. She was working here as a waitress."
Cody hesitated as if he was thinking about saying something else, but before he could get around to it, the waitress bustled over to refill their Cokes. As she turned to go, she said, "Just kiss already! Watchin' you from the counter, it's like slow torture."