Candice woke to the smell of sizzling bacon. The sun was bright outside, and she looked down at the clock beside the bed, seeing it was already late morning.

Groaning, she climbed out of bed. Her legs still felt stiff from her adrenaline-fueled run the night before, but at least she could walk without crutches or Wyatt to carry her around.

She thought about Wyatt’s arms around her the night before, and a warm sensation shot up her spine. Even with all the shock of the day before, Wyatt carrying her was the most erotic thing that had happened to her in years.

Stop, she told herself. She couldn’t have this guy, so she needed to stop thinking about it. In the meantime, he was cooking something delicious downstairs. She twisted her messy hair into a bun and hurried down. The living room looked even more comfortable in the light of day.

Light streamed through the windows, and she could see the wooded view outside. She turned to Wyatt in the kitchen, cooking over the stove. Dishes covered in breakfast food were spread across the island—eggs, French toast dusted in powdered sugar, sliced strawberries, sausages, and freshly squeezed orange juice.

Her eyes widened as she sat at the island counter on a stool. He turned to her and shoveled the bacon onto a plate. “Good morning,” he said in a low voice.

“Look at all this food!”

“I didn’t know what you liked.”

“I like everything.” She smiled, picking up a plate from a stack beside the buffet.

She began dishing herself breakfast while Wyatt poured her a cup of coffee. With everything in front of her, she dug in. She groaned at the first delicious bite. She’d been eating canned camping food for the last two days. This was beyond good. Wyatt sat beside her with his own plate and took a bite of bacon.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, groaning, French toast still in her mouth.

“Good. I’m glad. I’ve got an outfit my sister left here the last time she visited if you want to change. She’s about your size.”

“That would be fantastic,” she said.

“Later, I’ll go up to your campsite to inspect it. You can’t go back up there.”

“I know. I’m scared to death. I guess I can stay in a hotel.”

“No,” he almost growled at her. Her eyes grew wide. “You should stay here. I can protect you better here.”

“I can’t impose.”

“It’s not an imposition. What matters is that you’re safe.”

“Okay,” she said meekly. She didn’t understand why he was being so protective and so nice to her. Wyatt was a good guy, but he was really going above and beyond for a woman he barely knew.

After breakfast, he gave her a stack of clothes, and she went off to the bathroom to take a shower. As the warm water slid over her sore body, the thought of Wyatt made her tingle all over.

When she got out, she dried her hair and put the clean clothes on—jeans and a black T-shirt. She still only had flip flops and no bra, but it was better than wearing dirty clothes.

When she came downstairs, she saw Wyatt outside on the front porch and went out to meet him.

“You left your paints in my truck last night. I put them on the porch swing. You can paint while I go up to the campsite.”

“I can come.”

“You should stay. Relax. I don’t want you to be traumatized by going back to the scene.”

“Okay,” she conceded. She didn’t really want to go up there anyway. Just the thought of it made her nervous and jittery.

“I’ll be back in less than an hour. If you need anything for any reason, I’ve left a walkie-talkie on the kitchen counter. It will go straight to me.”

He leaned forward as if he was going to kiss her. Candice sucked in a breath, waiting for his lips to touch hers, but he pulled back at the last moment.

“I’ll be back soon. Make yourself at home.”

She let out the breath, disappointed, and watched his ass in his tight, black jeans as he walked away. Candice sighed as he drove off in his truck. She was afraid to be alone, but something about Wyatt’s home made her feel safe.

She picked up her paint box and carried it around to the back porch. A patio set faced the expansive view of the wilderness that stretched out for miles before her. His property sloped down toward a forested valley. On the other side, mountains rose, covered in dense, green trees and jagged ridges.

It was a sight to behold, and Candice instantly wanted to paint it. She sat down with her paints and began to sketch out the view before setting up her watercolor pallet. A few moments later, she was deep into her painting, daydreaming about what it would be like to see this view every day.