Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
I open my mouth to respond, but Hudson beats me to it.
"Back off." The words are guttural, low, possessive. The kind of tone that sends a shiver down my spine, that sparks something hot and reckless in my chest. “She’s mine.”
The stranger’s smirk fades. He raises his hands, mock innocent. "Didn’t mean to step on any toes."
Hudson doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just stares until the guy takes the hint and mutters a half-hearted goodbye, disappearing back into the trees.
Silence stretches between us.
I should be irritated. Should call him out for being a possessive caveman. Should remind him that I’m not his.
But instead…
I step around him, tilting my head up. "Yours?"
His jaw tightens. "You heard me."
I arch a brow. "Did you hear you?"
His nostrils flare. "Don’t start, Palmer."
"Oh, but I think I will." I take a slow step closer, testing him, watching the way his fingers flex at his sides. "You can growl all you want, Kane, but I heard what you said. And so did he."
His eyes darken.
"You’re playing with fire," he murmurs.
I swallow, pulse hammering. "Maybe I like the heat."
A muscle jumps in his jaw. His hands fist at his sides like he’s barely restraining himself.
Then, without warning, he reaches for me—gripping my chin, tilting my face up.
His thumb brushes the corner of my mouth.
My breath hitches.
"You keep pushin’," he murmurs, voice low and lethal, "and I will give you exactly what you're beggin' for."
I swallow. "And what do you think I'm begging for?"
His thumb drags lower, down the side of my throat. A slow, lazy touch that has my entire body tightening.
"You tell me," he whispers.
Heat. Everywhere. I should pull away. Should say something cutting. Should break the tension before I do something stupid. But my body betrays me, swaying closer instead. Hudson inhales sharply. His fingers tighten for a fraction of a second—like he’s about to claim me right here, against a goddamn tree.
Then, just as suddenly, he drops his hand and steps back. The loss of his touch is like stepping out of a fire into freezing cold. He turns without another word and starts walking back toward the cabin. I stand there, heart racing, watching him go. Then I let out a breathless laugh, shaking my head. He can pretend all he wants. But I heard what he said.
And I’m pretty damn sure he just staked his claim.
Chapter Five
Hudson
Palmer doesn’t know that I see it.
The way her fingers tremble when she thinks no one’s looking. The way she flinches at the sound of an approaching car, her body going stiff, her breath catching in her throat like she’s bracing for something bad. She’s only been with me for two days and I can tell something is very off with this woman.
I’ve tracked animals my whole life, hunted in the dead of winter, read the wind like a second language. I know scared when I see it.
And Palmer?
She’s walking around like a goddamn prey animal, waiting for the predator to strike.
Since she stepped off that bus with her fancy bags and her city-girl attitude, thinking she could handle life on Devil’s Peak, she’s consumed my thoughts. She still carries herself like she belongs somewhere else, like this is just temporary. But I see her watching me when she thinks I’m not looking. I see her hesitation, her wariness, the way she bites her lip when she thinks too hard about something.
She’s hiding. Not just from whoever’s out there looking for her—but from me.
And I’m running out of patience. I have a feeling whoever her ex is, he did a number on her. He’s left a lasting impression with the way he seems to always be on her mind, hell, I can’t help but think she’d go runnin’ right back to him if she had the chance.
I push the nagging thoughts about losing this woman from my mind as the wind howls through the trees, rattling against the cabin walls, a storm rolling in off the ridge.
I catch Palmer in the living room, curled up on the couch, knees tucked under her chin, staring at nothing. Probably thinking about him. Her past seems to cling to the edges of her thoughts, like she’s not fully present with me. That thought kills me. This woman has already burrowed herself under my skin, made me think about things like a future and a legacy. Maybe even a family, but hell if I’m about to find myself loving someone who seems to be in love with someone else.
“You keep looking out that window like you expect someone to be there,” I finally say, keeping my voice even. “Something I should know about?”
She startles, whipping around, her hand flying to her throat like I just caught her red-handed.
“No,” she lies. “It’s just—just the wind.”
I step closer, hands resting on my belt, my voice low and steady. “You sure about that?”