“You’re not?”
I lock my jaw before I speak. “That came out wrong. I’m not keeping you prisoner, Birdy, but I can’t in good conscience let you walk back into those woods.”
She glances at the window. Outside, the last of the light is draining out of the sky, and the temperature is dropping fast. She knows I’m right.
“I can call someone,” she offers. “Nell, she runs the flower farm. I’m sure she’ll come and pick me up. I work there, but we’re also friends. Not that any of that information is important. Anyway, sorry, I’ll call right now and get out of your hair.”
“No, you won’t. I’m driving you down this mountain myself,” I say, and I grab my jacket before she can argue.
Chapter Three
Birdy
His truck is exactly what I expected from a man like Jude. Big, with no frills, only practicalities. I climb in and stare straight ahead. If I look at him, I might swoon. I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous. I’m a grown woman. But he has an effect on me like no one ever has before. I don’t know if it’s his deep voice that reverberates with every word, or his intense stare, or that he doesn’t speak much. Whatever it is, it’s making me feel all fuzzy and warm.
Jude gets in on his side, starts the engine without a word, and pulls away from his cabin. The silence isn’t uncomfortable at all, and I realize how lucky I am to be with someone I can sit in comfortable silence with.
I bite my bottom lip to stop from grinning. Nell’s going to have a field day when I tell her a hot mountain man rescued me from a bear. I can hardly believe it myself.
The road winds downward through the dark, with trees pressing close on both sides, but instead of focusing on the beautiful surroundings, all I can focus on is how close the passenger seat is to the driver’s seat. And how fucking large his hands are on the wheel. Honestly, he looks like a giant. I let out what I hope is an imperceptible sigh. Jude’s the kind of man youusually only come across in movies or fairy tales. I know he’d be able to save me from anything if I were…
I shake my head and give myself a stern talking to.Jesus, Birdy! Get a grip. You met this man once, and you’re already dreaming about being his girlfriend? No flipping way.
I look out the window instead of at him.
The truck takes a long curve, and the valley opens up below us, the lights of Timber Peak Valley scattered across the dark. It’s beautiful in a way that catches me off guard every single time, even after five years of living here.
“You live here long?” he asks.
“Five years. You?”
“Three.”
“And you’ve never come into town?”
Something that might almost be amusement crosses his face. “I come into town. Occasionally. When I need supplies.”
“I work at the flower farm on the south side of the valley,” I say. “Timber Peak Petals. I think I would have remembered you.”
“I come into town but have never been to that farm.”
“You don’t like flowers?”
“I like them, but I don’t have anyone to buy flowers for,” he says.
I perk up at that. This big, tough mountain man doesn’t have a girlfriend. It’s none of my business, but I’m still glad that I know this about him. Not that it changes anything. What would I do with this information anyway? Lean over, grab his flannel shirt, and kiss him? I snort at the idea.
“Something funny?”
I bite my lip, trying not to laugh again. “No, not at all.”
We hit the valley road and the trees open up. Streetlights and mailboxes appear with the familiar layout of the town center. I direct him to my apartment with short instructions, and hefollows each one without comment. He pulls up outside my apartment building and stops the truck.
“This is me,” I say, which is obvious and unnecessary, but I say it anyway.
I unbuckle and push the door open. The cold air rushes in, and I step down onto the sidewalk, then turn back. He’s looking straight ahead through the windshield, both hands still on the wheel.
“Goodnight, Jude,” I say. “And thank you. Really.”