Tucker. Lori Foster

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      Her attention dipped to his mouth, then the open throat of his ruined, button-up shirt. Casually, without any evidence of the turmoil he felt, she returned to her position against the cabinet. “I really can swim, you know.”

      “I assumed.” Much of her family lived right on the lake. Her dad was still one hell of a water-skier, and all of them spent plenty of time on various boats the family owned.

      “The storms will end sometime tonight, and tomorrow it’ll be sweltering.” She bit her lip, for once looking unsure of herself as she softly suggested, “You should come by and take a dip with me after work.”

      Get wet with her? While she wore a bikini? Ah, no. “Can’t.” He swiped at the mud on the front of his jeans, studiously avoiding her beautiful blue eyes.

      The silence stretched out, straining his composure—and his resistance.

      Finally, she asked, “So why were you playing in the mud?”

      “I wasn’t playing,” he replied, his tone thankfully moderate. “But it’s not easy to help push a car free without getting splattered.”

      She looked him over, then turned and knelt in front of a duffel bag, rummaging inside until she stood again with a large black T-shirt. She thrust it toward him. “Here you go.”

      He eyed the shirt warily.

      “Don’t be modest, Sheriff. There’s no wiping away the mud.”

      “It’s fine.”

      She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I’ve never seen a shirtless man before.” She tipped her head, her tone whisper-soft. “I’d offer you pants, too, but I don’t have any more.” She gestured at the loose athletic pants she wore. “I had to do my own wardrobe change.”

      “With Cleets?”

      “No one has accused me of being shy.”

      It was the oddest thing, but heat crawled up his neck and behind his eyes, feeling a lot like anger.

      Or jealousy.

      Mouth tight, he took a step toward her before he could even think about what he was doing. “You changed in front of him?”

      Her lips twitched, then she actually laughed. “If I had, Cleets would still be blushing. He’s shy, you know. And very much a gentleman. Plus he has a sweetheart, and he would never be disloyal to her by ogling another woman.”

      Feeling like a fool, Tucker listened as the storm raged outside the van, and in his heart.

      “Yup,” she whispered, again reading his thoughts. “I think we’re stuck together, at least until it lets up a little.”

      “Probably.” He started on the buttons of his shirt. It was ridiculous the way her eyes flared a little, how she settled back as if expecting a show. Living on a big vacation lake meant she saw men in nothing more than trunks all summer long.

      He pulled the tails free of his pants and shrugged the sodden, muddy fabric from his shoulders.

      When he reached for the black T-shirt, she held it out of reach. “You’re tanned.”

      Did her voice sound huskier? “Yeah, so?” The way her rapt gaze moved over him, he almost felt naked. “I’m not always in uniform, you know.”

      She ignored that to say, “You’re hairier than I expected.”

      He looked down at his own chest, which, far as he could tell, was about average in the hair department. He wasn’t an ape, but neither was he fifteen and baby-butt smooth.

      Scoffing, he asked, “Expected me to manscape, did you?”

      “Not really, no.” She deeply inhaled and slowly handed him the shirt. Her eyes locked on his. “I like it.”

      Great. Something he didn’t need to know. He took the shirt, but only held it at his side. “Kady...”

      “Hmm?”

      The way she positioned herself on the cabinet, hands braced beside her hips, arms straight, one leg bent and breasts thrust forward, was enough to distract any man. “I know it’s like a habit to you, but you really shouldn’t flirt with me.”

      That got her attention off his body. “A habit?”

      “You do it with everyone.”

      “I’m nice to everyone.” Brows coming together, she straightened away from the cabinet. “That’s different from flirting.” She threw up her hands. “God save me from obtuse men.”

       “Obtuse?”

      Her eyes narrowed. “If you can’t see what’s right in front of you, then yes, you’re obtuse.”

      Somehow he was closer to her again. “I doubt the town would elect a stupid sheriff.”

      Tipping her head back, she stared up at him in blatant challenge. “Oh, you do fine as a sheriff. But as a man...?” She shrugged.

      A wash of heat burned his skin and made his nostrils flare. He leaned down, crowding her space. “I’ll have you know...” What? “I do fine as a man.” God, that was so lame.

      She looked at his mouth. “Can’t prove it by me.”

      Oh, so bold—and so close. Her lips were damp, her eyes heavy, and everything about her screamed an invitation. Could she possibly know what it did to him, having her look at him like that? Did she know that he was getting hard?

      Wrestling with temptation, Tucker tried to draw back, but it was as if their gazes had locked and he couldn’t pull free. Maybe he even leaned closer...

      Suddenly, headlights flashed in the rear windows of the van, blinding them both. He lifted a hand, turning toward the roar of a muscled engine. Through the windows he saw a car wildly careening toward them. Fast. Too fast.

      In his gut, he knew they’d be hit.

      Kady squeaked as he grabbed her close and bore her down to the floor on her butt, her face tucked against his chest, his body curling over and around hers protectively. They had no time for anything else, not for explanations or preparation, before the car heavily sideswiped the van with a jolting impact. The screech of metal on metal filled the air as the car shoved the van farther off the road and into the mud.

      For one heart-stopping moment, Tucker thought it might roll, but it rocked back with a deep shudder that sent something with hard corners tumbling down onto his shoulder.

      Grunting at the sharp pain, teeth locked, he gave thanks that he’d thought to cover Kady’s head so thoroughly. Instinctively, his arms tightened around her, and he ignored the ache to his shoulder muscle.

      The seconds ticked by.

      When nothing else happened, he cautiously lifted his head. She kept her face against him, her small hands curled on his chest.

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