He’d been caught off guard tonight. And yeah, his first thought on seeing a woman camped in a clearing pointed toward shit, we’re going to have a problem with protesting tree-huggers. Josh didn’t have an issue with environmentalists as long as they kept their distance from the tracts of land Moore Timber had been hired to harvest. And in most cases replant. He loved this land. So did the guys who worked alongside him. Hell, his sister was one of the most outspoken supporters of taking the excess from the timber harvests, the limbs that fell to the forest floor, and turning them into biomass fuel.
But he’d run into plenty of protesters before. Some possessed the same lived-in-the-forest-too-long look, but he’d never met one running on pure fear and desperation. And his only excuse for not spotting her blatant fight-or-flight terror?
Even sporting a hairstyle that suggested she’d forgot to pack her hairbrush when she’d selected flight over fight, Caroline’s bright green eyes, creamy skin dotted with a few girl-next-door freckles, and heart-shaped face had thrown him. And her bold, don’t-fuck-with-me stance had landed him square on his ass.
But shit, the last time that happened he’d ended up in a dead-end relationship. It had taken him months to break free. But he’d done it. Tonight, before he’d walked into the forest to check on the trees, he’d broken up with his girlfriend. He’d lost his head—but thank freaking God not his heart—over the stacked nursing student who moonlighted as a topless waitress. Although sometimes it seemed like her true focus was serving breakfast at the strip club instead of her classes. But Megan had made it clear she wasn’t interested in settling down. And when he stepped back and looked at their time together, he couldn’t see a future with her.
He was done playing games. And he’d had enough of cute and coy to last a lifetime. When it came to his dream woman, straightforward and honest now topped the list.
And big green eyes. . .
Don’t go there, he thought. The woman in the woods had held back. But he had a hunch she’d been telling the truth about the key facts. Her name was Caroline. She was looking for Noah Tager. She was in trouble. And her problems were bigger than whether they cut the trees or not.
Hadn’t he had enough trouble to last him a lifetime? He’d survived a run-in with a big-ass logging hook on the end of a freaking helicopter. The hit to the head had stolen his short-term memory. And the struggle to reclaim it had pushed him pretty damn close to depression.
He pulled out his phone and dialed. “Hey Chad,” he said when his brother picked up. “Is Noah working tonight?”
“Yeah,” his brother said. “Where are you? We’re at the bar waiting for you.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen. Maybe twenty.” He turned and retraced his steps to his truck. “I stopped by the harvest site. Favor for Eric Moore, our awesome boss. And Noah’s going to want to hear about what I found.”
He ended the call and opened the door to his truck. He glanced over his shoulder one last time. But no sign of her. As soon as they found Caroline, he’d make things right. And he’d bake her a pie. He hadn’t met a woman yet who could resist homemade pie coupled with an apology.
Then he’d steer clear of the beautiful, mysterious woman. Life—and a team of doctors—had granted him a second chance. He damn well better make the most of it.
Chapter 1
Fourteen months later. . .
SOMETIMES LIVING LIFE to the fullest involved breaking into his brother’s kitchen on a Saturday morning. Though Josh doubted the small-town cops would write him up for B&E seeing as he had a key to the place. Plus, he’d grown up in the old farmhouse, and still lived in the apartment over the barn. And his brother should be resigned to his early morning baking sessions by now. Even though his siblings questioned his motives for delivering pie after pie to a woman who didn’t seem all that interested in dating him, that hadn’t stopped him from using the kitchen during his downtime.
He’d spent the past year and change sharing his homemade baked goods with the quiet
, reclusive Caroline. From the pecan pie recipe he’d perfected in the aftermath of a logging accident that had left him searching for ways to reclaim his short-term memory, to his first key lime creation covered in whipped cream. Yeah, baking had proven oddly useful.
Josh Summers spread a thick layer of the homemade topping on the pie and tried not to think about covering the woman determined to keep him locked in the ‘friend zone’ with the leftovers. After what Caroline had been through, well hell, he understood why she needed time. But that didn’t keep him from hoping for more—especially since she’d kissed him in the back room of Big Buck’s Bar a few months ago.
And then asked him out.
But she never picked a time or place for your first date. . .
“What are you making?” a familiar voice demanded as the back door to the Summers’ family farmhouse slammed shut.
“Testing out a new key lime pie recipe,” he told his older sister without looking up from his creation. Katie Summers—no, make that Katie Trulane now that she’d married the number two at Moore Timber, the logging company that also served as their employer—crowded in at his side. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of her long, red ponytail swinging forward and threatening to land in his pie topping.
Of the four siblings, Katie and Josh had inherited their mother’s red hair and green eyes. Thankfully, their looks were the only trait she’d passed on to them. Their mom had walked out on her family when Josh was a kid and never looked back. But the Summers siblings stuck together—even at seven in the morning on a freaking Saturday.
“Is that pie for me?” Katie asked hopefully.
“Nah,” another all too familiar voice called out. “Josh stopped baking for us months ago. He’s still trying to woo his lady friend with sugar.”
“Shut up, Chad,” Josh muttered. He dipped the spatula into the bowl of whipped cream and then returned it to the pie laden with cream. Josh had woken up early, slipped out of his apartment over the barn and into the farmhouse kitchen with the hope that he’d be in and out before his siblings stormed Brody’s home.
“Shouldn’t you all be in bed? You’re married”—he shot Katie a pointed look—“and you’re engaged.” He glanced over his shoulder at Chad. “Plus, you don’t live here anymore.”
If Josh had what his brothers and sister had fought so hard to find—love with the promise of happy-ever-after and homes of their own—he would stay the hell out of Brody’s kitchen on a Saturday morning and while away the hours in bed.
“Lena worked the overnight shift last night, so I stayed here,” Chad said with a shrug as he headed for the pot of coffee Josh had made upon breaking in. “I heard you banging around down here and thought I’d see if you started the coffee.”