In the Charm E-Book

Lorhainne Eckhart

• Herausgeber: Lorhainne Eckhart, INC.
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: The Friessens
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 304

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

When Chris's cross-country motorcycle journey lands him in a small South Dakota town, he runs afoul of the law and catches the attention of JD, the sheriff's captivating daughter. As he gets caught up in her charm and defies the sheriff's orders to keep moving, Chris faces unexpected consequences that could change his life forever.

Leseprobe

In the Charm COPYRIGHT © Lorhainne Ekelund, 2018, All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Contact Information: [email protected]

IN THE CHARM

The Friessens

Book 13

LORHAINNE ECKHART

Contents

Keep in touch with Lorhainne

About this book

The Friessen Family Series Reading order:

The Friessen Family Tree

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

What’s coming next in The Friessens

Unexpected Consequences

A NEW FRIESSEN FAMILY RELEASE

Keep Me In Your Heart - Chapter 1

Keep Me In Your Heart, Chapter 2

Don’t miss the the newest release in the Billy Jo McCabe Mystery

The Cold Case

Other works available

The Family Secret, Chapter 1

Don’t Miss the O’Connells of Montana

About the Author

Series Available

Links to Lorhainne Eckhart’s Booklist

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About this book

Chris is used to having whatever he wants—but this time, the irresistible could come at a high price.

When stubbornly independent Chris Friessen decides to pack up and travel the country on the back of his Harley, he doesn’t expect that his decision to see the “real USA” will cost him in ways he can’t imagine. He soon finds himself face down on some backroad, cuffed by small-town cops. To make matters worse, he’s told to keep moving, but when he meets the incredibly sexy daughter of the sheriff, Chris can’t resist doing exactly the opposite—even after realizing that the sheriff’s deputy is head over heels in love with her.

JD is the daughter of a South Dakota small-town sheriff, teased by locals that if she were ever to consider marrying, she’d have a line of suitors around the block. But she’s not interested, as the only man she’s ever loved up and left, and her father was behind it. When she drives up on her father and his deputy toying with the extremely attractive redheaded Chris Friessen, she can’t resist tossing him an invitation to dinner, and she never expects that he’ll take her up on it.

Now, Chris may find that the irresistible JD comes with a lot more than he’s bargained for.

The Friessen Family Series Reading order:

Click here to download the complete Friessen Legacy Series checklist and series reading order

The Outsider Series

The Forgotten Child (Brad and Emily)

A Baby and a Wedding

Fallen Hero (Andy, Jed, and Diana) with bonus The Search

The Awakening (Andy and Laura)

Secrets (Jed and Diana)

Runaway (Andy and Laura)

Overdue

The Unexpected Storm (Neil and Candy)

The Wedding (Neil and Candy)

The Friessens: A New Beginning

The Deadline (Andy and Laura)

The Price to Love (Neil and Candy)

A Different Kind of Love (Brad and Emily)

A Vow of Love, A Friessen Family Christmas

The Friessens

The Reunion

The Bloodline (Andy & Laura)

The Promise (Diana & Jed)

The Business Plan (Neil & Candy)

The Decision (Brad & Emily)

First Love (Katy)

Family First

Leave the Light On

In the Moment

In the Family: A Friessen Family Christmas

In the Silence

In the Stars

In the Charm

Unexpected Consequences

It Was Always You

The First Time I Saw You

Welcome to My Arms

Welcome to Boston

I’ll Always Love You

Ground Rules

A Reason to Breathe

You Are My Everything

Anything For You

The Homecoming includes FREE short story When They Were Young

Stay Away From My Daughter

The Bad Boy

A Place to Call Our Own

The Visitor

All About Devon

Long Past Dawn

How to Heal a Heart

Keep Me In Your Heart

Want to know how all the series are linked? Stop by my blog for all the details: http://www.lorhainneeckhart.com/what-is-the-reading-order-of-your-books/

Now Available at a specially reduced price, The Friessen Legacy Collections:

1) The Outsider Series: The Complete Omnibus Collection

2) The Friessens A New Beginning: The Collection

3) The Friessens Books 1 - 5 Box Set

4) The Friessens Books 6 -8

5) The Friessen Books 9 - 11

6) The Friessen Books 12 - 14

7) The Friessen Books 15 - 18

8) The Friessen Books 19 -21

9. The Friessen Books 22 - 24

10) The Friessens Books 25 - 27

11) The Friessens Books 28 - 31

The Friessen Family Tree

Click here to download your copy of The Friessen Family Tree

ChapterOne

Of all the decisions twenty-three-year-old Chris Friessen had made, his latest was likely to cost him in ways he hadn’t even begun to imagine, considering the flashing sheriff’s lights in his side mirrors. The car had ridden up on his ass, its siren blasting until he pulled over, and he was now parked on a road—scratch that, a secondary highway in the middle of nowhere.

Actually, it wasn’t really nowhere. He’d covered roughly two hundred and twenty miles that day, with the heat and sun beating down, but he couldn’t rightly pinpoint exactly which county or, for that matter, state he was in. He’d pulled off the main highway crossing the country from east to west, and now he was having a hard time remembering whether he was in one of the Dakotas or in Montana, which, in his mind, put him in the middle of nowhere.

“Turn off the bike and step off! Show me your hands.” The deep voice of what sounded like one pissed-off cop boomed over the loudspeaker, but the twang did little to help Chris figure out exactly where he was.

He turned off his bike and kicked the support stand, then lifted his leg over slowly and stepped down, his hands going right to the strap of his helmet to lift it off.

“I said show me your hands, asshole!” the cop yelled, shooting a bolt of fear straight through Chris.

His hands, suddenly with a mind of their own, jabbed in the air high enough that there could be no mistake he was following instructions to a T. His heart was hammering, feeling the heat of the approaching cop. He could just make out his feet scraping the pavement, and he was straining to hear everything through his thick helmet—the radio, the tick of something, and the wind that did little to cool off this scorcher of a day. He wanted to explain to this cop that he was…what, a great guy just seeing the country, traveling from state to state? Why exactly had he been pulled over?

“If you’ll just let me take off my helmet—” He didn’t get to finish, because rough hands gripped his left wrist, and metal cuffs were slapped on as his other arm was twisted back roughly. The pinch of the metal shot through his arm. “Ah, fuck, what the hell?” he yelled from the sudden bite. Then his helmet was pulled off and dumped on the asphalt. The smash was instant, and he saw the visor crack. The sound was one he’d never forget. He had dished out two hundred and fifty dollars for that thing—and it had been on sale.

“You watch your mouth,” the cop snapped, his hand on him.

Chris landed roughly on the ground, face down, the heat from the midday sun on the blacktop burning into him through the black leather jacket he always wore on his bike. He struggled to keep his face off the scorching road as he turned his head, taking in his Harley, a Forty-Eight Special with a long wheel base that screamed badass class. Chris had fallen in love with the bike the moment he’d seen it through the window of the Arlington bike shop.

A second cop was unfastening the gear tied on the back of the bike and going through the compartment where his bag, wallet, ID, insurance, and everything of value were stashed.

“You mind telling me why you pulled me over?” Chris said, turning his head, still waiting for the cops to answer his other questions. Of course, they knew what they were doing.

The cop who’d cuffed him and put him on the ground was in a black uniform shirt with a badge pinned to his chest. He was wearing dark shades and was a lot rounder in the middle, and he worked a piece of gum as he holstered his weapon and then leaned down to Chris. “You packing? Got any weapons on you?”

Rough hands patted him down, grabbing him in places no stranger had any business putting his hands.

“No,” Chris said. “Now how about answering my question? Why did you pull me over?” He was sure he hadn’t been speeding. He’d made a point of keeping an eye out for any signs of the speed limit, enjoying every moment of the secondary back country. He’d planned for this, the only way to see the small towns and counties no one ever stopped in. But there was a moment now, as he understood his current predicament, that he realized maybe taking this route hadn’t been one of his smarter choices.

The older cop said nothing as the other one handed him Chris’s license with a scowl.

Chris had to strain his neck, holding his head up, feeling the burn of the pavement on his chin. “Seriously, guys, I know what my rights are. Why exactly am I cuffed and on the ground in the middle of nowhere? My mother’s a lawyer. You think I’m not well aware of the bullshit going on here?”

He stopped talking, running everything through his head—the what, the where, and the how. He was thankful he’d actually listened to his mom when she gave him the talk about his rights, though it had been his brother Danny, who was just finishing up law school, who had really driven home how often people’s rights were violated, especially the rights of those who didn’t have a clue what their rights were. That had been an interesting talk over one too many beers. Now here he was, in that exact worst-case scenario, and he suddenly felt like it could end badly for him.

The cops said nothing, but he could hear them behind him as he racked his brain, trying to figure out what he’d done. They had to have a reason to pull him over and cuff him. Then there was the really big problem: They hadn’t even read him his rights. He wanted to remind them, but all that came out was a groan as he felt the pinch of his cuffed wrists and the pull in his shoulders, a rock biting into his hip. It was enough of a wakeup call that he knew reasoning with those two assholes wouldn’t work, not in this situation.

“Christopher Friessen, from North Lakewood in Washington State,” the cop drawled. He held up Chris’s registration and insurance, or so it seemed, from the papers he was holding. It was beginning to seem more and more that this was a fishing expedition—but for what, he didn’t have a clue. Probably something he wasn’t going to like.

“The name’s Chris,” he snapped. No one called him Christopher but his mother—and his dad, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and brothers, Danny and Mark, but only when they wanted to push all his buttons. His brothers knew the effort he was making to get everyone to cut it out and stop calling him something he didn’t see himself as. It was a baby name, a little kid’s name, which didn’t fit badass Chris, who rode a Harley and had saved up to travel the country and really see it instead of reading about it.

“You’re a long way from home, there, Christopher. Mind telling me what you’re doing out this way?”

Seriously, what the fuck? He had to bite the words back, hating this feeling of being toyed with. “The name’s Chris, I already told you, and I’m just passing through. Didn’t think that was a crime. Now how about uncuffing me and telling me why the fuck you’re treating me like some criminal?”

He realized as soon as the words were out of his mouth that it had likely been the wrong thing to say. He turned his head right and then left, seeing both their badges pinned to their chests. The cop by his bike wasn’t as old as the one who had pinned him down on the ground and cuffed him. He was dark haired, tall, and the way he stared down, unsmiling, his face seemed made of granite. Chris realized this was a lawman whose gun he’d never want to find himself on the wrong side of, considering his dark, completely unimpressed expression.

“How about you settle on down there, boy, and mind your manners?” said the other cop as his booted foot kicked Chris in the shin. He was older, with a deeper voice and a potbelly.

Chris grunted from the stab of pain. “Fuck!” he muttered under his breath and pulled at his wrists, turning his head to the side again, seeing the cowboy boot that would likely kick him again. He dragged his gaze up, taking in the older cop, who wore a ball cap over what Chris thought was a bald head. He was maybe his dad’s age.

Just then, he heard a car and spotted a rusty older-model import slowing as it came closer. The older cop stepped into the road and lifted his hand, and Chris couldn’t see much as the car stopped just behind him.

The cop leaned in the window. “Hey there, baby girl. What’re you doing out this way?”

The way the cop’s voice changed from asshole to sappy had Chris wanting to roll his eyes. For a second, he considered calling out to the driver to…what, help him out of his predicament?

“Just finished delivering meals to some of the shut-ins and was heading home. Could ask you the same, Daddy. What’re you doing all the way out here, and what did that man do?” Her voice was soft and sassy, and Chris wished he could see her face over the rusty fender and the bald tires, which were the only things in his view.

“Oh, that’s nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about. Just a routine traffic stop.”

Routine, his ass! There was nothing routine about this stop or the fact that he was cuffed, lying face down on the burning pavement in what he was sure was ninety-degree heat on this late afternoon in early August.

“If this is just routine, then how about uncuffing me and letting me up?” he snapped.

Rough hands suddenly gripped his arm and pulled him up, and he had to stifle a groan at his wrenched shoulder. He took in the babe in the car. She had long dirty-blond hair and a killer smile—a knockout, from what he could see with the windshield between them. He heard the key and felt the hand on his wrist again as the cuff loosened, and he was suddenly free.

On instinct, he reached for his wrist and rubbed, rolling his shoulders as he turned around. He couldn’t imagine spending hours with his arms cuffed behind him. Having felt the bite and how tight they were, he realized he really had been at the mercy of the cop restraining him.

He couldn’t see the eyes of the younger cop who’d uncuffed him from behind his shades. The man stepped away from Chris and over to the car, lifting his hand and smiling at the killer babe.

“Hey there, JD,” he said. “I’m sure the good folks of Martin appreciate all the help you’re giving.” The way his voice had changed to overly affectionate was ridiculous.

“Ah, thanks, Ray. Just doing my part, is all. We have a lot of seniors who just can’t get out anymore.” She had a brilliant smile, and the cop actually touched his fingers to his hat and smiled brightly back at her. It was one of those smiles guys gave when they were totally sunk for a girl, but Chris figured the guy had to be at least ten years her senior.

The balding cop tapped her open window. “You’d best get going, JD—and did you have a chance to talk to your mother yet?”

Chris found himself watching the younger cop. What was his name, Ray? He stood there, no longer worried about Chris because he seemed to have eyes only for the babe in the car. He wondered whether Daddy had any idea his partner had the hots for his daughter. At the same time, he realized neither of them was giving him the time of day now. Could he just pick up his wrecked helmet, climb on his bike, and drive away? Likely not, considering they still had his license and registration, and his gear, which had been tied to the back but was now tossed by the side of the road.

He didn’t hear what she said, but then the car started moving, rolling the ten feet toward him, where it stopped, the passenger window still open. “Hey there, don’t let these two ruffle your feathers. They’re both harmless…and should know better than to pull over a stranger just because!” She yelled the last part back, looking over her shoulder.

Chris took in the pair he’d been shitting bricks about moments before, who now appeared a lot less threatening.

“You should stop in Martin on your way through. Come on over to Lulu’s. Dinner is on the house for your trouble. The name’s JD,” she added with that killer smile, and he could see her killer body, too, where she sat in the bucket seat behind the wheel. She was wearing a floral tank and cutoffs. Then she lifted her fingers in a wave as she pulled away, and he stared at the back end of the car and then back to the cops, who still hadn’t told him why they’d felt the need to scare the ever-living shit out of him and treat him like America’s most wanted.

“Here’s your ID,” said Ray, the scowl now once again pasted on his face. He held out Chris’s papers and license.

Chris ripped them from the cop’s hand, biting back a few choice words that would’ve likely had him cuffed again, face down on the burning blacktop.

The older cop, who was already walking to the passenger side of the cop car, where the lights were still flashing, lifted his hand. “You have yourself a great day, you hear, and move yourself along.”

Chris would’ve been a fool to miss the warning in his tone. Then they were both in the car, and as it drove away with one blast of the siren, he noted the logo on its side, Bennett County Sheriff’s Department.

He tucked his ID back in its compartment along with his wallet and things, then leaned down and picked up his helmet, taking in the crack right down the center of the visor. The repairs would be a pain in the ass to see through. The helmet was a big-ticket item, and he wasn’t too happy to dish out that kind of cash. He wanted nothing more than to give those two asshole cops the bill and make them pay it. Yeah, good luck there.

At least now he knew where he was: South Dakota, outside Martin, in the middle of nowhere. Then there was the gorgeous chick, the daughter of the asshole older cop who’d pulled him over, and he realized maybe he wasn’t too willing to listen to their advice. After all, as his mom and dad had pointed out a time or two, there was a side of Chris that just couldn’t resist stirring up trouble, challenging authority, going toe to toe, when the smarter course would be to walk away.

He stared at the crack in his visor, his gear on the ground, and figured, why not? Dinner sounded like one hell of a great idea.

ChapterTwo

Locals liked to tease JD that if she were ever open to getting married, she’d have a line of suitors around the block. But then, every one of those locals had conveniently forgotten the fact that she had already been married once, even if it had been for only five minutes at the age of seventeen. As her father had pointed out, it had been a split second of rebellious teenage stupidity, her one and only folly.

If only everyone knew the truth of the matter.

Now she was stuck here even though said moment of stupidity had stirred a spark, the possibility of getting away from this small town and into a life she wanted to create for herself—not that she had any idea of what that looked like or could be.

“I was down at Fielding Foods, and the ground beef was marked down to half price, so I picked up thirty pounds,” her mother said. “Figured we could fill the freezer and do a special next week on meatloaf.”

Alice Cayhill was a former beauty queen and had been the runner-up in the state pageant just over twenty years earlier. She was slender and curvy, with honey-brown hair. JD favored her mother, something else the townsfolk liked to point out. She should’ve been flattered, especially considering her mother could still turn a man’s eye, but then, said men would have to deal with her father, the sheriff of Martin, where nothing ever happened and no one ever dared to cross him.

It wasn’t so much that he was a bad man. Jorden Cayhill was a teddy bear to those who knew him, namely his family, but at the same time, he didn’t take to anyone messing with them. Hence JD’s short-lived marriage and the fact that she was now the head cook and baker at the Cayhills’ one-hundred-year-old family lodge.

“JD, didn’t you hear me?” her mom said, now looking into the open freezer. She reached for a plastic bag on the counter.

“Sorry, was just…” JD lifted her hands. One was holding a potato peeler, the other a half-peeled potato. She stood over the extra-large farmhouse sink, where she’d been staring off out the window, thinking about what could have been.

“Daydreaming again? Lord, I’d love to know what’s going through that mind of yours.” Her mother tossed the bag into the freezer and shut the door. “But I was just saying that I can handle the deliveries tomorrow for the shut-ins. I think we’re up to almost twenty this week. Saw the orders. I swear this town has more elderly and less young. Just last week the Croftons’ eldest got a job out in Cleveland, packed his young family up, and moved away. We just don’t seem to be attracting any of that young family blood. The school here is going to be in real trouble if any more of our young ones up and move off. We’ll be left with the old, the really old, and then just us, and that…”

Her mom was in the dining room now, still talking, but JD couldn’t make out anything else she was saying. It was always the same; her mom talked just to talk. JD and her dad had learned to smile and nod at all the right times, though she swore her dad never heard a word her mother said. She wondered when or whether her mother would ever figure that part out.

“JD, there’s a young man here asking for you,” her mom said as she hurried back from the front, her amber eyes popping. “Never seen him before. Rode in on one of those big noisy bikes.” As if he could hear her, she lowered her voice, whispering loudly and dramatically. “He looks like one of those biker guys. A very attractive one, at that. You got something you want to tell me, like why he’d be asking for you?”

She had to think for a minute, as she didn’t have a clue what her mom was talking about. She dropped the potato and peeler into the sink and then wiped her hands on a dish towel as she strode to the open door, where she took in someone tall, handsome, and redheaded.

Holy shit! She froze for a second as her stomach zigged, her hands slapping the doorframe. She felt beads of sweat under her arms. Her mom bumped into her as she stared at the biker her father had cuffed face down on the scorching blacktop. Damn, he was even more attractive than she’d realized.

And, of course, what was that hot biker doing but watching her with what she thought were the most vibrant blue eyes she’d ever seen? She was also getting a very real firsthand view of all his fine assets, from his height to his broad shoulders and chest. A flicker of amusement seemed to dance in his expression, and even the hint of a smile that touched his lips had her knees softening in horror. She was sure her mom was reading her reaction. She could feel her face heat.

“Where, again, did you meet him?” her mother whispered in her ear, loudly. Of course he heard. She wanted to shoo her away, flicking her hand toward her.

“Hi, uh…” JD started, feeling out of her depth, sounding like an idiot, she was sure. She’d never expected to see him again, not after the welcome he’d been on the receiving end of on that deserted highway from her father and Ray.

“JD, right? Chris Friessen. Guess we didn’t get to meet properly.” He walked toward her, wearing a black leather jacket and black pants, the kind guys wore to ride motorbikes, with his helmet tucked under his arm. Something about him ratcheted up the tension in the room. “I can tell by your expression that you completely forgot about your offer.”

She wondered whether her mouth gaped.

Her mom whispered loudly in her ear, “What offer?” Her tone was one of pure shock, accusing, as JD turned to see her very dramatic expression.

She stepped away from the open door and over to Chris. She had to look up, and oh, wow, was he tall. She stood about five foot five, and her head just barely topped his shoulders. She couldn’t remember ever having seen someone with such vibrant red hair. He really was smoking hot, the total package. The hand he was now holding out to her was large, a man’s hand, not at all neatly polished. Touching it, she wondered whether he could feel what a wreck she was now.

“Of course, yes,” she said. “Sorry, I was just working on dinner and didn’t think you’d stop in.”

He was still holding her hand as he lifted his gaze over to her mom, and JD finally pulled away from his strong grip. It was the kind of touch that had her wondering indecently what he could do with those hands.

“I offered Chris dinner on the house,” JD said, “considering I drove up on Daddy and Ray cuffing him face down on the burning pavement. They said it was just a routine traffic stop when I asked, but you know Daddy. How long would he have toyed with him if I hadn’t driven up and said something?”

Her mom crossed her arms. “Mm-hmm,” she said, a bit of amusement in her eyes. Then she did that hair flick thing she did when openly flirting with an attractive man before sweeping her hand in the air as if it was nothing. “Jorden is just a big old teddy bear and wouldn’t hurt anyone, but he’s real quick to make sure certain types don’t even think about stopping and visiting—you know, the kind of people who don’t belong here, slickers in their overpriced sports cars, bikers, and anyone up to no good. Sorry, it’s just his way. He doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just protecting the community here, which is one of the safest anywhere, the kind of place…”

Her mother could go on and on, so she reached over and touched her arm. “Mom, I think I heard the phone ringing a moment ago,” she said, pointing to the front of the house. Even Chris turned to look behind him at the ancient long front desk made of dark wood and brass.

“You sure? I didn’t hear anything.”

“Mom, you should check. I don’t think anyone is booked in tonight, but that could be someone looking…” She let the words fall away, knowing her mom always needed to know what was going on with the lodge, sticking her nose in the running of everything even though everyone was looking after what needed to be looked after.

“You’re right. I should,” Alice said and tapped her wrist, then started walking. But she stopped right beside Chris, letting her hand touch his arm and the leather of his jacket. JD wanted to cringe in embarrassment, as her mom also made a flirty sound of approval as she allowed her gaze to linger a little too long. Then she was gone, and that left JD with Mister Hotty, who was watching her mom walk away. He seriously had to be considering the wisdom of staying now.

“I did promise you dinner on the house, didn’t I?” she said. Now she had all his attention.

“You did, at that. When you said Lulu’s, I wasn’t expecting this.” He was looking around, and she wondered what he was really seeing behind the quaint, rustic charm. The dining room held five tables, all mismatched, which added to the old-time feel. “It’s the type of place I’ve been looking for in my travels, seeing this country and all its charm.”

“I hope you’re not disappointed in any way. Come in. I’ll get you to a table, and, as you can see, you have your choice. We’re not particularly busy right now, just the locals who come in for the dinner rush at five. You are early…” It was only three thirty, and she still hadn’t finished prepping that night’s menu. She had work to do, yet there was a man she wondered so many things about.

“Not too early, I hope.”

She shook her head and tossed him an easy smile as she walked over to a table by the window. “Not at all.”

He was right on her heels, and she could feel his heat, hearing the floorboards creak. She glanced back to him as he said, “Good to hear. The way things have worked out, this’ll be kind of a late lunch, early dinner.” Then he settled his megawatt gaze on her. That one look had her rooted where she stood, not wanting to move, feeling the air between them sizzle. She was glad her mom had left. “So what’s good here?” he asked, and the way he was staring at her, the way he angled his head for a moment, she thought there was a deeper meaning hidden in the question.

“Ah, everything, considering I’m the cook,” she said, wondering why she’d added that last part.

“So not only do I get the pleasure of seeing you again, but I get to have you cook for me.”

The air sizzled, and she found herself sliding her hand around the back of her neck and lifting her hair to cool off. The room was warm. The windows were cracked, but it wasn’t the heat of the day that was making her a little crazy.

She took in the edge of his smile. It seemed he was openly and shamelessly flirting with her, and for a moment she felt as if he could see right through everything she was wearing, as if he was picturing her naked. Danger seemed to ripple in the chemistry that sizzled between them.

She should walk away.

“You said you were traveling?” She thought her voice sounded a little deep and sexy. That wasn’t like her, but it was at this moment. What was it about this hot biker that was bringing out the siren inside her? She touched the side of her head and then dragged her hand over the back of her neck again.

“Yeah, seeing this beautiful country, all the backroads and small towns in half the states.” He was still smiling, and not just from his mouth. He was giving everything to her in that one look. How was it that a guy could do that?

“Wow, that sounds amazing. How long have you been traveling? I just can’t imagine being able to do something like that.” It sounded crazy, but it also sounded like heaven, something her father would never allow.

“A few months. Saved up and planned for it. Was something I always dreamed of doing before I decide on what to do, where to settle down and how. It seemed seeing this country when I’m young, with no one to depend on me, is better than waiting like most people do for when they retire. So I worked, socked everything away, and planned out the key places and states.”

She realized they were still standing, and she glanced at the table for four by the window and gestured to it. “Where’re my manners? Here, why don’t you have a seat?” She could get lost in everything about him. She thought she could talk to him all night. What was it about his charm? It oozed from every part of him without him saying one word.

She was in so much trouble.

“Only if you’ll join me,” he said, then stepped around her and pulled out a chair.

“Well, for a minute, but then I have to get dinner on or you won’t be eating anything.” She sat down, and he pushed the chair in and walked around the table to the seat across from her. There was an echo in the empty room, she realized, and a peace that seemed to exist only when no one was there.

“I can wait, but I’m enjoying the conversation. You know, meeting new folks is also a part of seeing this country.” It wasn’t lost on her how he filled that old wooden chair. He rested his motorcycle helmet on the table beside him, and she took in the cracked visor.

“That had to have hurt.” She gestured toward it, and she wasn’t sure what she saw in his expression as he glanced to it and back to her, the smile gone.

“So, Lulu’s, how long have you worked here?” he said.

She realized he hadn’t answered her. She wondered whether he had any idea how annoying that was. There was something about the way he spoke, his voice, that had her staring at his face, his expression, his full lips.

“It’s the family business, so I grew up here, lived here. This lodge has been in our family for generations, ever since my great-great-grandfather moved out here and started it up mostly for travelers heading west. There were rooms upstairs and a restaurant down, but now there’re just three rooms up there. The back of the lodge is an addition from a decade ago for the family. I just kind of was always in the kitchen, helping, and now…” She lifted her hands.

She couldn’t remember the exact day she’d started doing all the cooking, all the baking. It had been after her grandmother announced she was retiring two years earlier. Grandma Cayhill had taken off her apron, tossed it down, and said she was passing it on. Then she and JD’s grandfather had moved to a house a block away, where they now had a social life that occupied their every waking moment.

“Family business, heritage, pretty cool,” he said. “Just the kind of mom and pop place I was looking for. So you still rent out rooms?”

She pulled in a breath. “We do,” she said.