“Now, Luna. If you follow this trail, you’ll come to a fork. Veer left until you reach a gate. Head through that, and you’ll come to a cabin. A house is being built on the land. It’s Nash’s place. Get him to come, and he can help us get Sarah out.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Miss Sarah said.
“It is. Go now, Luna.”
She did as she was told, running faster along the trail. Luna knew who Nash was, the grumpy hot guy. Veering left, she ran on until she came to a gate. Opening it, she hurried through and then shut it behind her. She saw the cabin, and then the house. It suited the man who lived there, Luna thought. It was isolated, surrounded by mountains and pasture. No trees or flowers. Just the cabin and the house under construction.
She heard the guitar as she approached the cabin. Classical, Luna thought as the sound drifted to her. What surprised her was that GHG was listening to it. Or did he have someone with him?
Inhaling and exhaling, she rapped hard on the front door. When the music continued, she knocked again, louder. The music stopped. Luna heard the thud of feet, and then the door swung open. The spit literally dried up in her mouth. He had no shirt on, and there was a lot of chest. Solid, muscled chest. Any hope that he had a soft belly was gone. He wore sweats that hung low on his hips. On his arm was a tattoo in black ink.
“You,” he said scowling. “What the hell are you doing knocking on my door at six forty in the morning?
It had been only forty minutes?Luna was sure it was two hours. Her legs certainly felt that way.
“I—ah, Miss Sarah,” she said, dragging her eyes to his face. He looked like he hadn’t been awake long, and his hair was a mess.
“What about Miss Sarah?”
“Are you always nasty?”
“Yes.”
At least he was honest, Luna had spent a lot of time around people who weren’t.
“Well, speak.”
“Asshole,” she muttered.
“I believe we’ve already established that.”
She looked over his shoulder and saw the guitar.
“You play that?”
“Was there a purpose for your visit? If you want to get naked, let’s do it; otherwise leave.”
The thought of them naked had her body flooding with heat.
“I’d rather roll about with a skunk,” she said. “Miss Sarah fell down the bank running, and Mr. Goldhirsh told me to come get you. I’m going back there. Come if you want, but that’s unlikely, seeing as people and empathy don’t seem to be your thing.”
He stepped back into the house and slammed the door in her face.
“Grumpy asshole!” she yelled, hammering her fist on it. “I hope your guitar strings fray!”
What would she do now? Pulling out her phone, she decided to call 911. But would they get an ambulance to Miss Sarah where she was?
“Let’s go.” The door opened, and grumpy hot guy stood there in a T-shirt, shorts, and shoes, with a pack on his back. “Move it.”
“That was fast.”
“I didn’t stop to apply makeup.”
“I thought—”
“I know, I heard what you thought through the door. Now get that fine ass of yours moving.”
He started running, and she followed, increasing her strides. Was everyone faster and fitter than her here?