Free Duty Bound by Samantha Chase Page A

this morning. What the hell was I supposed to say? Hey, Harper. Thanks for the erotic dreams you gave me last night, but it can’t ever happen again because, well, it’s kind of my fault that your brother is dead. Yeah, that would go over real well.
    I didn’t really have a choice, and that was what sucked the most. In a perfect world, I’d be keeping an eye on her from afar and not even get close to the temptation she had become. Unfortunately, she had a knack for getting into trouble, and if last night’s hit and run was any indication, I was going to be spending a lot more time closer to her than I wanted to be.
    I should’ve just called my dad and asked him to meet me at Harper’s and let him take me to get my truck, but the whole glutton-for-punishment thing won out.
    I quickly dressed in the first clothes my hands landed on. Not that it mattered—working in construction, it all got messed up anyway. I dragged my ass around doing everything possible to put off the inevitable, but once my teeth were brushed, there was nothing left to do.
    The drive back over to Harper’s was short, but being in her car, which smelled exactly like her, wreaked havoc on my senses. I needed to stay focused and not think about her as a woman. I snorted with disbelief. I’d have to be dead to not notice that. But I did need to think of her in a detached way. To forget the way she smelled or how soft her hair was or the sounds she made when I touched her.
    The groan of frustration escaped before I could even stop it.
    My life totally sucked.
    I had no idea what time she had to be at work, but I had to get going now. I dragged my sorry ass to the door and banged. Hard. Harper appeared, and I could tell that I’d woken her up.
    “Levi?” she said sleepily. “What are you doing here?”
    “I have to go to work and I need my truck.” I motioned to her car parked behind me. “Are you okay to drive me back into town to get it?”
    Irritation covered the features that were relaxed only moments ago. “You could’ve called and given me a head’s up, you know. I would have been ready.”
    “Yeah, well…I didn’t. Throw something on. I gotta go.” I walked back over to her car and waited. She didn’t move right away, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she was considering telling me to go to hell. Good. Better to make her hate me then to let her think that last night meant anything.
    It couldn’t.
    Not ever.
    I glanced at my watch. It was going on seven-forty-five. If she didn’t get her ass in gear, I knew I’d be late. Throwing caution to the wind, I walked around to the driver’s side, opened the door, and leaned on the horn.
    I knew that would rile her up but good.
    Sure enough, two minutes later she came stomping out the door. “What the hell is your problem?” she snapped.
    “I have to get to work. Didn’t we go over this already?”
    “We did, and I was fine with that, but you needed to give me more than three minutes to get dressed!”
    “Just making sure you didn’t drag your feet.” As if remembering, I looked down at hers. “How’s the ankle this morning?” I felt like an ass for pushing her right now. It wasn’t that I had forgotten the accident last night. I had just temporarily forgotten her injury.
    She glared at me. “Does it matter?” Walking over to the driver’s side, she climbed in and, true to form, beeped the horn to get me moving.
    Such a smartass. I climbed in beside her. Once I was seated, I nearly flew through the windshield as she threw the car in reverse. “Is there a problem, princess?”
    “Stop calling me that!” She had a white-knuckled grip on the wheel, and by the time we were on the road, I thought she was going to pull the entire steering column from the dash.
    “You never answered me about your ankle,” I reminded her.
    Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at me. “The swelling has gone down, but it still hurts. Happy?”
    “Why the hell would that make me