Small-town park ranger Casey Hobbes has spent her life under the radar, carefully guarding a secret. "The forest flirt," as her best friend calls her, keeps things casual with men. That way she'll never care enough to be tempted to share the truth about her past. But when she spots a half-naked stranger on the lake's edge, Casey can't resist his muscles or his charm and she's all-in for enjoying both, while keeping emotion out of it. What could be the danger of one summer fling?
Professor Zane Buchanan has built his entire career on exposing the dark realities of cults, but one—the Sunshine Seekers—remains infuriatingly impossible to crack. Zane's shocked to discover its sole anonymous survivor is hiding in his new hometown. It's nearly impossible to concentrate on work, however, when he's derailed by his attraction to the beautiful blonde in khaki uniform shorts.
As things between Casey and Zane heat up, she struggles with keeping her past from him. And Zane's on a quest to expose the truth, no matter the consequences. Will their growing emotions finally unseal Casey's big secret? Or will she turn her back on love to keep the past safely buried?
Here's a peek at the very beginning to get you hooked!
When Casey Hobbes got an eyeful of the
half-naked man emerging from Seneca Lake, she pulled onto the shoulder without
even signaling. She could justify the move because he was technically breaking
the no swimming after sunset posted
rule, even though she was off-duty. Much of her job as a New York state park ranger
comprised of reminding people that rules were for their safety. But deep down? Casey
wasn’t even kidding herself. It was that impossibly broad chest and shock of
dark brown hair mussed over the top of the scuba mask that drew her like a moth
to a bug zapper.
Moving fast now, he emerged the rest of
the way from the water. It was black, the same color as the night sky above. So
although he wasn’t pale, his legs starkly contrasted his surroundings, making
him easy to spot in the moonlight. His long, strong legs. Well muscled. Casey
liked the looks of a man who worked out. She couldn’t stand the over-pumped gym
rats who resembled nothing more than anatomically correct balloon people. No,
this guy was just hot. Yummy hot. S’mores melting over a campfire hot.
Or maybe not so hot. Cause he’d wrapped
his arms around himself without even removing the scuba tanks strapped onto his
back. Even from across the road she could tell he was shivering. See? It didn’t
pay to break the rules. What kind of idiot didn’t wear a wetsuit, even in June,
to dive in the Finger Lakes? Casey swung her Jeep into the parking lot of the lakefront
park and grabbed for the emergency space blanket she kept tucked behind the
passenger seat.
Sticking her head out the window, she
asked, “Sir, do you need help?”
He shook his head. But his teeth were
chattering so hard he couldn’t actually answer. Geez. Why were the hot ones
always so dumb? With a sigh, she hopped out. Hurried over, unsnapped the belt
at his waist and slipped the straps of his gear down his bare arms with no
resistance from him. Probably because his arms were absolutely ice cold. Now
they hung limp at his sides.
So she wrapped the blanket around him
tight herself. Its foil crinkling scared a flock of geese straight up into the
starry sky. Casey rolled her eyes up towards the Big Dipper in exasperation.
Great. What was she supposed to do with a six foot tall mansicle frozen in
place at the edge of the lake? Knowing body heat was the quickest way to deal
with hypothermia, she wrapped her arms around him, too. Tried not to notice
that it brought her flush against ridged abs. Or how well her head tucked into
the hollow of his collarbone.
This was strictly basic first aid. If he
were a woman, or a sixty-year-old guy with a pot belly and a bad comb over,
Casey would still be responding the same way. His core temp had to be raised
ASAP. But still, it didn’t suck that he was a wall of sheer, solid muscle
against her torso. She tucked her thighs and calves along the outside of his,
almost hissing at the cold searing every exposed inch between her uniform khaki
shorts and the tops of her boots.
“Thanks.”
Surprised his teeth had stopped
chattering already, she jerked her head up. But Casey couldn’t see anything
behind his fogged-over mask. Only a well-formed pair of lips beneath it.
Generous. Curved up just the tiniest bit. Lips that made her want to throw caution
to the wind and start nibbling.
“How do you feel?”
“Cold. Prickly, like I’m getting
acupuncture from a hundred doctors all at once.”
Whew. No ambulance needed, then. Just
her blanket and time. “That sensation will pass. It’s good news, actually, that
you aren’t numb at all.”
“Nope. Definitely not numb. ”
Was that a twitch of…seriously…when most
of his body still felt like an unthawed surprise from the freezer? Casey
released her embrace a split second after he began to push away.
“God, I’m sorry. Really.” He stumbled
back a few steps, and his mouth hung open. “That was an involuntary reaction. I
mean, you’re beautiful, so it wasn’t entirely involuntary. But it was a purely
physical reaction to stimulus. To all of you pressing up against all of me. I swear
I’m not trying to accost you.”
Huh. His rapid backpedaling rang true.
The stranger appeared to be a genuinely good guy. She’d cut him some slack.
Besides, he was still shivering. Whatever little heat she’d imparted to him had
all pooled in that overachieving organ tenting the front of his trunks.
“I’m not worried. I can’t imagine anyone
committing to hypothermia on the off-chance that a woman might drive by, decide
to try to rescue them, and then stick around to get kissed.”
“Kissed? Who said anything about a kiss?
Not that I wouldn’t be on board with the idea.” His voice turned smug, even as
he tugged the blanket tighter against another round of shivers.
Damn it. Casey certainly hadn’t meant to
mention a kiss. She blamed the slip on working overtime three days straight.
The height of tourist season here in the Finger Lakes, and yet she’d stupidly
offered to cover so one of her rangers could attend a wedding over the weekend.
Exhaustion was her only excuse. It had nothing to do with how she could see the
leading edge of brown hair across his chest over the criss-crossed top of the
blanket.
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