My breath comes out in billowy white puffs as I exhale into the cold evening air. A light blanket of fog has crept though the darkness surrounding me. The forest creaks and groans with each gust of wind that passes through it. My gaze follows the sway of the trees, and I shiver as the counter on the outdated gas pump climbs. All around me, there is an unnatural energy that crackles in the air.

In some remote corner of my consciousness, a whisper creeps in, telling me that I should have stayed on the interstate. The wind lifts again, causing another shudder to run through me as the nozzle’s clip snaps and echoes, stopping the flow of liquid and alerting me that my tank is full.

After returning the spout to the pump, I tighten the cap and make my way toward the run-down, dated station to pay. The glass door chimes as I push into the small space and look around.

The smell of tobacco assaults my nose, causing it to twitch. Overhead, a fluorescent light buzzes and hums, and its glow barely brings into focus the ancient-looking Native American gentleman seated behind the counter. He’s watching me with a strange, guarded fascination.

I offer him a kind smile. He responds by blowing a puff of tobacco smoke from his wooden pipe into my face. Lovely. His chocolate gaze slides to the grimy window, and he stares at my shiny Range Rover.

“Guess you’re not from around here.” His voice is deep and raspy.

“What gives you that impression?” I ask, approaching him.

The older man just focuses on my car with displeasure. “It’s not a Jeep.”

I shift, feeling uncomfortable. “It was a graduation gift. From design school.”

Unimpressed, he ignores my justification. “That will be $38.22.”

With a sigh, I dig into my bag, searching for my wallet.

“You got all-wheel drive on your fancy ride, young lady?”

I frown at the term, handing him two twenties. “Yes.”

“That’s good. You’ll need it up here in the mountains.” He opens the manual cash register and counts out my change at a snail’s pace. “Western Colorado is a long way from Rhode Island.”

My brows pinch at his uncanny knowledge and inquisitive manner.

“Your license plate.” He points at my car when he notices my confusion.

“It is,” I reply.

His white, bushy eyebrows drop over his stare as he studies me with a piercing look. Ignoring his odd behavior, I take my change from his rough and wrinkled hand.

“Do I know you?” he asks, watching me. “You look . . . familiar.”

At his words, a heavy sadness falls over me. “Not likely. I’m new around here.”

A dip of his chin is his only answer before his focus slides to the door—my cue to leave.

“Have a nice evening,” I mutter, because politeness has been ingrained into me.

The stranger doesn’t respond immediately. He just looks me over with guarded curiosity.

“Drive safely. You wouldn’t want to get lost out here.” His voice follows me out the door.

Once I’m securely in my vehicle, I exhale my nervous energy, push the on button, and blast the heat. Before I pull out, my gaze shifts to the rearview mirror that reflects the station, but it’s gone completely dark and the old man is nowhere in sight.

I try not to peel out of the unpaved lot as I make my way back onto the main road. My GPS stopped working about an hour ago, and I hope to hell I’m going in the right direction. I probably should have stopped two hours earlier in Grand Junction for the night, but I just wanted to get there already. Days on the road alone will do that to you—make you antsy to arrive in a place filled with strangers. One that you’ve never been to, and barely know anything about.

Frowning, I lean back into the soft leather of the bucket seat, already missing the ocean. The coastal community of Newport, Rhode Island, is nothing like the forested mountains of Colorado.

Everything here is pitch black, especially the road in front of me. I can’t figure out the allure.

A soft melody comes on the radio—at least that still works—as I make my way up the long, narrow mountain road. The moon disappeared long ago, leaving the darkness in its place.

Trying to keep my mind off the eerie feeling I have, I think of home. The ghost of her presence lingers, haunting each of my memories and thoughts. I feel her everywhere. Even now, as I stare into the blackness of the night, driving toward a new fate. A new life.

After receiving my degree in interior architecture and arts from the Rhode Island School of Design, I was only able to secure a few local jobs. In the upscale community I grew up in, there is no shortage of interior designers. The couple of assignments I did manage to snag were with bored wives who needed a distraction while their husbands were off golfing or yachting.

A graduate with fresh, modern design ideas isn’t necessarily welcome in a community full of old money and country club homes, covered with toile wallpaper and matching throw pillows.

At the thought, I blow out a long breath.

Finally, after multiple email exchanges with my new employer, here I am—driving at an ungodly hour, on a dark, winding, forest road toward a mountain town that I’ve only heard about in brief, nonsensical phone conversations—on my way to work for a small design firm. And to find answers.

I clutch the steering wheel as I drive by a layered stone sign, lit by a single spotlight. The black metal lettering lets me know I’m a few miles away from my destination.

“Thanks for all the help,” I pout at my GPS.

Grabbing my cell, I glance at it and frown.

No service. Fabulous.

I’m in the middle of nowhere, in the dead of night, with no cell. Sighing, I throw it back onto the passenger seat, where it bounces and lands on the floor. Keeping my eyes on the road, I reach down to grab it, just as something large, dark, and furry jumps in front of my car, scaring the shit out of me. I jerk the wheel quickly to avoid hitting what appears to be an oversized wolf.

My car skids as I slam on the brakes, trying to gain control. The sound of rocks crunching and crumbling under my tires echoes around the forest. With a final slide, one of my tires releases a loud pop before I come to a complete stop, and I watch as the front right side of the car begins to sink, signaling my tire just blew out.

“Mother-effer,” I shout, and hit the steering wheel with my palm.

After a few heavy breaths, I look up and see two brown eyes with gold flecks staring at me.

Directly. At. Me. Holy shit.

It almost appears as if the reddish-brown wolf is watching me, entertained.

I swear its eyes twinkle with amusement before it winks at me. Wait. What the . . .

Deep breaths. Get your shit together, Graysin. Do not panic. The wild animal is NOT winking at you.

The sudden, heavy pounding of a fist banging on my window causes me to jump and scream.

Scared to death, I pull my eyes away from the enormous animal before snapping my attention to the driver’s side window. Deep, lush, verdant eyes are peering at me through the tinted glass.

“Hey, you okay in there?” the stranger asks.

Still shocked, my focus darts back to the wild animal, but it’s gone. What in the—

“Hello? Miss?” The almost glowing eyes glisten.

Swallowing, I regain my composure and nod that I’m okay.

“While I appreciate that you’re in shock, there is a thick layer of dark glass in between us. If you’re bleeding or hurt, I’ll need some verbal cues here,” he states in a smooth yet annoyed voice.

I exhale, unsure what he’s doing out here in the middle of the woods at this hour. Seconds ago, no one was even around. Peering in the rearview mirror, I notice the headlight of a motorcycle parked behind my car. Surely I would have heard its rumble behind me, right?

Disoriented, I sneak another peek at the stranger who is bent over, trying to see into the car. His large hands are cupped around his eyes—as if that is going to help him gain a better view.

Two leather bands peak out from his leather jacket, wrapped around his wrists, which I find extremely attractive. After a moment, he runs a hand through his dark, thick hair. It’s short on the sides, curly on the top, and messily wind-blown. It’s sexy. Light scruff accentuates what appears to be a perfect jawline.

I press the window button and let the glass drop down just a sliver. In case this unusually good-looking stranger is a serial killer and all. Seriously, he is otherworldly handsome.

I’ve never seen anything like it; he’s practically shining.

“Are you an angel or something?” I blurt out in a mumble.

He frowns, watching me. “Did you hit your head?”

Realizing I’d spoken my thoughts out loud, I swallow and grimace at myself.

“Um . . . no,” I manage, trying to hide the shake in my voice.

His radiant orbs study me. “Are you sure?”

I assess my body, but other than being scared to death, I’m good.

“Yup. See?” I motion to myself. “I am fine.” I cringe. The words are more seductive than I meant them to be.

The stranger’s gaze twinkles with an arrogant amusement before he looks at the front of my car. “You have a spare?”

“A spare car? No. This is the only one I own . . .” I trail off when I notice he’s staring at me.

“I meant a spare tire. You drove over some rocks back there, and they pierced the rubber.”

My eyelids slide closed. God. Could I be any more of a spaz? “Right. Under the car.”

We sit in silence for a moment before he stands. “I’ll need access to your trunk.”

When he realizes I’m confused by his statement, he sighs.

“So I can get to the jack? I’ll undress it—the tire, that is,” he adds for clarification.

“I understood what you meant,” I blurt out, too quickly.

He smirks cockily. “Sure you did,” he counters, with a slight Spanish accent.

I roll my eyes, and he lets out another sigh as I study him, wondering if I should trust him.

He tightens his jaw. “Look, if it will make you feel more comfortable, you can sit in the car, and I’d be happy to replace the tire for you.”

“Um . . . I can just call roadside assistance.”

He stares at me. “Where are you headed anyway at this hour?”

“Havenwood Falls.”

“Havenwood Falls?” The stranger repeats in an odd tone, studying me. “Well, there’s crappy cell service out here, in and around the town. It’s a quirk this high up in the mountains.”

“Oh.” I glance longingly at my cell, still on the floor, with no signal.

“Looks like I’m your only option.” He smirks victoriously, removing his leather jacket.

My focus roams over him, taking in his black motorcycle boots, dark jeans, and a light-blue, button-down cotton shirt. He has the sleeves casually rolled up—showing off his tattoos.

In addition to the leather bracelets, he’s wearing an expensive Breitling watch on his left wrist and a dark brown, beaded band on his right. I continue to stare at his jewelry, stalling.

He runs his hands over his face, trying to keep himself in check. “If you prefer, you could ride on the back of my bike into town, then we could call the tow company?”

Never take rides from strangers, Graysin! Even super-hot ones with expensive watches and sexy Celtic tattoos. I shake my head no. I’d rather drive myself into town. I pop open the trunk with a sigh.

If he kills me, so be it.

The stranger smiles brightly, chuckling as if he heard my thoughts. He walks around to the back of my car, and I listen as he moves my luggage around, before he lifts the floor cover, pulls out the jack, and begins lowering the spare.

I look around for the wolf, but there is no sign of it.

Guilt settles into my stomach. My savior is out there alone, in the pitch black, where a wild animal was just staring and growling at me. Damn it. I grab my keys, turning on my tiny keychain flashlight. There is no way he’ll be able to see what he’s doing without the light or my help.

Reluctantly, I open the door and slip out of the car. My boots hit the gravel with a crunch. I walk around to the front of my car and gasp at how much damage a few rocks did. The tire is shredded. It looks almost like it was slashed. A few seconds later, the Good Samaritan approaches, and I realize how tall he is compared to my five-foot-four frame; he has at least a foot on me.

He places the spare down and leans it against my car as he takes in the ruined tire.

“You must have done more damage to it when you skidded.”

“I guess. It looks like something clawed at it.”

“What were you avoiding? A bunny?” he teases.

My eyes slide to the area where the animal was. “A large, reddish wolf. Is that even possible?”

“Rusty,” he whispers, with an annoyed huff.

“What?”

He stills, before speaking slowly. “Your rims look a little rusty,” he points out. “And, yes, a wolf is possible. You’re in the mountains now, city girl. Wild animals are abundant up here.”

I shiver as the wind lifts again. “Right.”

He falls silent before he bends down and begins to remove the old tire.

“We don’t have a lot of wildlife in Newport, Rhode Island. I mean, other than the ocean life.”

“I saw your license plate. Newport is home?”

“Yeah. All my life. You?”

“I live in Havenwood Falls, by way of Spain.” His voice is tight. Not unfriendly, just guarded.

“Really?” I brighten at his confession. “What’s it like?”

“Barcelona? Beautiful. Great food, people, and markets.”

“I meant Havenwood Falls.”

“Charming. Lots of festivals. Good coffee. Interesting characters. That sort of thing.”

I hold the flashlight higher as he begins to put on the full-size spare. “This is my first visit.”

He squints up at me, and a smug grin spreads over his perfect mouth, like he already knew.

“I’m staying at the Whisper Falls Inn while in town. I rented a cottage,” I ramble.

The stranger falls silent as he goes back to replacing the tire. I stop speaking as I watch his every move, taking in his rugged good looks. A familiar sensation crosses over me as I focus on his broad shoulders. Every so often, the corded muscles make an appearance under his shirt.

“Hey, could you lower the light a bit? I’ve almost got this.”

I squat next to him, and his gaze finds mine, prowling over me, causing my breath to catch. My chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as I try to pull air into my lungs, but it’s not working.

“Easy.” He leans closer. “You’re at a higher altitude now. Slow down your breathing.”

I inhale slowly through my nose, trying to push off a slight headache beginning to form.

“You need to be careful up here. If you aren’t used to the high altitude, you’ll get sick.”

“Just another life change I’ll have to get acclimated to, I guess.”

After a few more intense moments pass between us, he finishes changing out the tire.

Once my breathing evens out, he stands and holds out his hand to help me up. Without a second thought, I slide my fingers across his palm and allow him to guide me to stretch to my full height.

“You okay?”

I nod.

“You should be all set now. I’ll throw the damaged tire in your trunk. Once you’re settled in town, swing by the Havenwood Falls Garage. Tell Joshua I sent you. He’ll take good care of you.” His accented voice is silky, calming.

I nod again, suddenly feeling shy and vulnerable. Averting from his, my gaze lands on our entangled hands, and I realize I’m still holding on to him. An unexpected blush rises on my cheeks, and I quickly remove my palm from his. My body shamelessly protests the action.

“S-sorry,” I blurt out quickly, and wrap my arms around my stomach to avoid reaching out for him again. “Thanks. For fixing it. And stopping. And helping me breathe. You know,” I babble, unable to stop. “All of it. Undressing and redressing me—it. The tire. Anyway . . . thanks.”

He leans back on his heels, a haughty grin curling on his lips.

“No problem. You’re lucky I couldn’t sleep and was out for a late-night drive.”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Not even air. Did I mention I’m socially awkward?

“All right then,” he slowly draws out, in reply to my lack of response.

I watch as he picks up the tire, throws it into my trunk, and closes the hatch before I come to my senses. Shaking off my gawking, I quickly make my way to the driver’s side, but he’s faster and grabs the door for me, holding it open, waiting for me to slide in.

Once I do, he leans in closer.

So close that his mouth is only a breath from mine, and warm, mint-flavored air brushes over my lips. “Start her up. I’ll follow you into town.”

I raise my eyebrows at his statement.

“It’s easy to get lost out here. I’ll make sure you get to the inn safely.”

“O-okay,” is all I manage, as his spicy scent wraps around me, stupefying me.

His green eyes drill into me, searching my own.

“W-what did you say your name was?”

“Everett.” His voice is husky.

“Graysin,” I reply.

“Well, Graysin . . . welcome, to Havenwood Falls.”