I could feel his eyes on my ass, just as they had been when I was climbing into his Jeep. I knew he was watching me, stealing glimpses when I turned, observing my movements like one of his targets. The problem was it made my pulse race. My core tighten in quick snaps. And my skin heat with an invisible fever. God, I hoped it was invisible.

I knew what he was. He was just like Elliot. A risk taker. A loner. He was a Military Man, a Ranger no less. He was the kind of man I needed to stay far away from.

He scowled at the stacks of lumber.

“They don’t have the length I need. I’ll just get a bigger piece and cut it down.” He lifted one of the boards as if it weighed less than a Popsicle stick and threw it on his shoulder.

I had to keep from dropping my jaw.

“What else is on your list?” he asked.

I tried to think about all the projects, but I couldn’t stop staring at the way his muscles tightened where his arm met his shoulder. Good lord the man was ripped.

“The gate latch,” I suggested.

“Oh right.” He walked over to the hardware section.

The board balanced on the ridge of his shoulder while he stooped to select a latch for the gate.

“I think this will work.” He held one up for me to inspect.

I nodded, realizing I would probably agree to anything he suggested. I thought it was because I had been cooped up too long in the house by myself. Maybe it was because his voice got under my skin. It was low and firm. Rough and seductive.

“Let’s get these and then I can come back tomorrow for the rest of the things you need.”

“Tomorrow?” I looked at him. I didn’t know how long he was going to stay. And when he mentioned staying in the barn apartment I just went with it.

“I told you. I’m going to get the house fixed for you.” He looked at me over his shoulder. “And anything else you need.”

Jake took the items to the register and reached for his wallet.

“Oh no. You can’t pay for that.” I tried to stop him. I had an account set up for the house repairs. There was less than a thousand dollars in it, but I could afford a latch and some lumber.

“I insist. It’s part of the service.”

“No. I can take care of it.” I fished in my bag for my debit card. It was in there somewhere.

He shoved a credit card in the clerk’s hand before I could stop him again.

I huffed. “Really? You won’t let me pay for it?”

The kid at the register handed Jake a receipt as he threw the wood over his shoulder, turning for the door.

“I told you I’m here to take care of things. A promise is a promise.”

“But it feels like charity. I don’t want to be your charity case.”

I raced after him as he loaded the purchases into the back of his Jeep.

“I can respect that.” He was actually considering my dilemma. I was surprised. “How about this? You could make dinner tonight.”

“Do you know about the fire? The restaurant? Is that why you’re asking?” The mist was turning to rain.

He ushered me into the passenger side, before sliding behind the wheel. “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about. But if you don’t cook…”

“No. No, it’s not that.” His eyes were on me and I had this sudden urge to tell him everything that happened to me in the past month, but that was crazy. He didn’t need to hear about the restaurant. “I’d love to make dinner for you. I can do that.”

“Then we have a deal?”

I nodded, but I had this sneaking suspicion I had just been lured into agreeing with him.

* * *

Jake had been working on the railing for the past few hours. It was starting to get dark and the storm had kicked up off the ocean. That was the best and worst part of the house. It sat on the edge of the cliff, giving you the feeling that you were floating right over the sea.

I peaked out of the door.

“Any chance you’re ready for dinner?”

He stood back to look at the rail. “Yeah. I need some of these pieces to set. I can take a break.”

He followed me in the house, and I was aware of his eyes on me again.

“Is there somewhere I could wash up?” He held up his hands.

I pointed the long hallway that ran the length of the house. “There’s a bathroom on the right.”

“Be right back.”

It felt strange waiting for him in the kitchen as if I was getting ready to start a blind date. But Jake wasn’t my date. He was a friend of Elliot’s. He was here to repay my brother for something. Something he wouldn’t share with me.

I fastened a corkscrew to the top of a bottle of Chardonnay, Elliot’s favorite. I debated whether to open it, but decided one glass wouldn’t hurt either one of us.

“Here let me get that.” Jake’s hands wrapped around mine, taking the bottle from me. My breath seized when his skin drifted over mine. The edges of his hands were rough and warm.

“Thanks.” I watched as he eased the cork from the bottle. “I hope you like salmon and sautéed veggies.”

His eyes lit up. “You don’t know how good that sounds.”

He sat at the table, and I placed a plate in front of him.

“No salmon where you were?” I sat across from him, depositing the wine on the table.

He reached for the bottle and poured a glass for each of us. The slow glug sound of the wine echoed in the glasses.

“No. I’m used to eating a lot of MREs. Not the best tasting meal. That’s for sure. I stopped thinking about food.”

“Oh, are those things that Elliot used to take camping?”

“Probably so.” He stuffed the salmon into his mouth, grinning as he chewed. “This is the best meal I’ve had in years.”

I blushed. “No need to exaggerate.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. I’m serious. I forgot how much I missed food. Real food. This is delicious.”

I blushed. “It’s nice to cook again.”

“You don’t cook much by yourself?” He stopped eating and focused his incredible eyes on me.

“No. I used to, but ever since I’ve been here I’ve lived on canned soup and sandwiches.” I swore I wasn’t going to get into it, but I could feel how I was lowering the wall.

“You sound like a bachelor.” He held up his wine glass.

I laughed. “I guess so.” I swallowed a bite of the salmon. “How long have you been back in the US?”

“Only two weeks.” He took a big gulp of wine and I watched as he swallowed. The muscles in his neck were smooth and firm.

“Did you go see your family?”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

I stared at him. “What have you been doing for two weeks?”

He loaded his fork with vegetables. “I had to do some in-processing. Debriefing. I can’t really share the details. Once that was complete I came straight here.”

“Oh.” I saw the look in his eye. The blue hues darkened and the gold flecks disappeared.

“How long is your leave?”

“I’m waiting on my next set of orders.” His eyes lifted to mine, and I felt my knees tremble. It was as if he could look right into my thoughts. “But I’ll make sure you have everything you need before I go. I can work quickly.”

“If you need to go see your family, you should do that. I’ll be fine. The porch is enough. More than enough. Now I don’t have to worry about anyone toppling over. I’m sure Elliot would agree your free of your promise now.”

“No. I need to be here.”

It was the way he said it, that made my heart stop. His words were powerful and confident.

“Thank you for dinner.” He stood to clear the table. “Let me help you clean up.”

I sat while he shuttled the plates from the table to the sink.

“Are you real?” I blurted the question.

He turned toward me. “What do you mean?” He refilled her glass.

“You fix things and clean the kitchen?” I giggled, inhaling half of the second glass of wine faster than I intended. I had to admit it was starting to feel like a blind date after all.

“It’s a nice reminder.” He wedged the plates in the dishwasher.

“Reminder of what?”

“Of what I’m fighting for.” He threw a kitchen towel over his shoulder.

“And what’s that?” I knew his tone had changed. I knew the atmosphere was thick. I knew I was drawing emotion from him, but I couldn’t stop.

“Normal.” He leaned against the counter. His arms crossed, forcing his sleeves to widen against the strain of his biceps.

“Normal,” I whispered.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “This. Late dinners with wine on rainy nights by the ocean. It’s something worth fighting for.”

I swallowed another sip, knowing it wasn’t the wine setting my blood on fire. It was him.