rushed inside. Poppy hesitated, trying to keep her gaze on anything but Ryan’s damp hair, his newly shaven handsome features, the oh-God-how-amazing chiseled pecs, rippling abs and that pair of etched lines that angled from the man’s lean waistline toward the bulge that was barely hidden by thin terry cloth.
The wall clock over his left shoulder—which was heavy with muscle and still dotted with water—was fascinating.
“Poppy?” He reached for her and she couldn’t help but step back. “Jesus, what are you doing out there? You’re all wet.”
“Uh-huh,” she said faintly.
“Come in.”
Because she was warmer now, just from looking at him, she still hesitated. “Could I beg a ride to town?”
“Get inside.” Taking hold of the sleeve of her soaked jacket, he pulled her over the threshold then shut the door. “Before we do anything, we need to get you dried off.” He glanced down at the towel wrapped around him.
“For goodness sake, don’t take that off!” she ordered, the shrill note to her voice not disguised by the raucous drumming of the continuing hail on the roof.
Ryan smiled.
It was the first of his she’d ever seen. Poppy almost gaped again, but she sucked in her bottom lip once more as her blood jacked up another ten degrees. He should smile all the time, she thought, dazzled by its whiteness and the way it drew up the outer corners of his piercing eyes. He had a face made for happy.
His smile could almost make her happy, even under these gloomy circumstances.
“Just a second,” he said, then hustled toward the bedroom, only to return a few moments later wearing a pair of jeans and an unbuttoned flannel shirt, and carrying a couple of dry towels in his hand. He draped one on Grimm, who then trotted, wearing it like a horse blanket, toward the fire. Ryan started rubbing the other towel over Poppy’s saturated hair.
Still gripping the suitcases, she stood dumbly under the brisk attention. Not only did it feel dangerously good to have someone tend to her, but there was also his naked, great-smelling chest a mere few inches from her nose. It had been a long time since she’d been around a man’s unclothed muscles and she found the experience...bemusing.
Yeah, that was it.
And, oh, she really, really needed to get out of here.
Dropping the bags to the floor, she sidestepped from Ryan and snatched the towel away to blot her hair herself. “I have this,” she said.
He stepped up to her again, his fingers going to the zipper of her coat. At the fumbling near her breasts, her voice went shrill again. “What are you doing?” She batted at his hands.
“Poppy, you’re dripping all over the floor,” he said, his tone patient and reasonable. “I’m only trying to help.”
“Try to help by collecting your car keys, okay?” she grumbled, unfastening the jacket herself, though they should make their move to town right away. “It would be best to get on the road before it’s full dark.”
Instead of doing her bidding, he stood his ground. “What’s the reason behind the great escape?”
She crossed to the kitchen, where she folded the towel and placed it on the counter. Then she drew off her outer garment and looked around for a place to set the sodden fabric. Ryan snatched it from her hand and draped it over the back of a chair he drew near the fire.
“We don’t have time for it to dry,” Poppy said, a little panic rising again as Ryan turned to face her, crossing his arms over his chest. Really, it was important she get away from the distraction of his male flesh as soon as possible, especially when she was in this vulnerable state.
“Poppy.”
Wrenching her gaze away from him, she focused on her pet, who was settled by the hearth, his head now on the towel he was using as a pillow. “Don’t get too comfy, Grimm. We’ve got to go back into the storm.” Then she risked a glance at Ryan. “You probably couldn’t hear it over the hail, but a branch came down at my place.”
Once again, bearing out the Walker curse. Because she doubted her pocketbook could handle another hit, panic rose again. And not due to Ryan this time, but because she might have just witnessed the end of her dream. “It took out part of the roof,” she continued, her voice as miserable as she felt, “and the front end of my car.”
In a blink he was before her, his hands gripping her shoulders. “Are you all right?” His gaze ran over her body, causing a shiver. Apparently taking that as a sign of chill, he pulled her nearer the fire, then held her there, her back to his front.
“I’m fine,” she said, wiggling out of his grip and away from the heat. Her jeans were clammy against her shins, but that only served to remind her she needed to get someplace safe to change. “I can’t stay at my cabin, though. Hence the need for the ride to Blue Arrow Lake. Will you take me?”
“All right,” he said, his gaze seeming to assess her condition again. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I will be.” The optimist inside her declared... With some dry clothes and time to think, perhaps she could find her way through this latest obstacle. “Can we go now?”
It took only a few moments for him to collect his coat and hat while she struggled back into her wet outerwear. Grimm looked reluctant to brave the storm again, and got up from his place by the fire with a great sigh. By the time Ryan was in his protective gear, she had the bags and was standing by the front door.
He grabbed the cases from her, and shoved one under his arm so he had a free hand to grasp the knob. Without turning it, he slanted her a glance. “You have everything you need?”
She needed to get away from his attractive presence, she knew. Even with all that was on her mind, his half-naked image was burned into her brain. What if she’d leaned forward while he was drying her hair and placed a kiss on the center of his chest? If her tongue had slipped out for a small lick, who could blame her?
“Poppy?” Ryan’s brows drew together. “Do you have everything?”
“Sure, sure,” she said, giving herself a sharp mental pinch. “Everything.” One bag held some of her clothes and belongings. The other was filled with her son’s things, including his favorite pillow, just in case she still found herself in other quarters by the time Mason was due back in a couple of days.
Ryan’s hand lifted, and he touched her chin with the back of two fingers, angling her face toward his. Her breath caught at the touch, then caught again at the intensity of his gaze. “Why the sad face?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “My residence and my mode of transportation are trashed,” she said, worry bubbling again. “Not to mention my brother has a brutal ‘I told you so.’”
“Is that where I’m taking you?”
On a sigh, Poppy nodded, then she reached for the door herself, and pulled it open. At the blast of hail-laden wind, she staggered back, only to be bolstered by Ryan’s bigger body. Whatever he said was inaudible over the sounds of the storm, but she plowed forward, his steadying hand on her shoulder.
Pebbles
