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Mateo gave one last tug to the towline, triple checking its security Old habits, unlike favorite T-shirts, didn’t wear out with time

The line didn’t give Not that he expected it to, but a s went FUBAR oil-slick fast A well-tiled ear reet And he was one of the lucky ones

The dog whined, high-pitched and hopeful, pulling Mateo’s focus away from the past and back into the rainy, , but the le paard

“What’s got you so worked up?” He patted the dog on the head and glanced up the hill, scanning for what captured the dog’s attention That’s when he saw her

Olivia stood just inside the headlight’s reach Tall even in rain boots, she had Jessica Rabbit’s curves and full lips that made him wish he was a tube of ChapStick Fuck, the number of times he’d been torlobe with every Sports Illustrated Swied to find its way to whatever hellhole he was in… Getting hot and bothered over her was the last thing he needed He’d had his chance and he’d run hell-bent for leather in the opposite direction There was no going back, especially nohen he looked and felt like a dented can of refried beans months past the expiration date

The dog whined, his tail thunking against Mateo’s calf No surprise Man or animal, everyone seemed to want Olivia Sweet

Lucky hiet in a model’s pants “I told you not to come down here”

She seon-stepped down the last few yards to his side “People tell s”

“And you never listen” The explosion had fucked with his vision te perht about nohen her flowery scentrain and warm earth, he wished like hell it had

“Look, Mateo” She shoved her hands deep into her purple rain jacket’s pockets and raised her chin, as if her posturing could cancel out the slight tremor in her husky voice “I’m sorry”

“For what?” His scar throbbed He could take the way people’s eyes slid away, the nervous chatter and the avoidance But the pity he saw in her blue eyes? It fucking unmanned him

“My reaction” Her gaze dropped for a second before returning to lock with his “I was an asshole”

No excuses No denial He shifted his stance, annoyed with the twinge of his conscience

“Forget it” He shrugged “Do you really think I give a fuck what people think?”

Her long fingers grazed his soaked T-shirt over his biceps A bolt of lightning could have struck the tip of his steel-toe boots and it wouldn’t have jolted hi had it been since a worab a beer without a long-legged beauty saddling up to hi was different