Free Midnight Sun (Sinclair Sisters) by Kat Martin Page A

the cabin. I thought I might find him over here.” He eyed her muddy clothes and she heard him chuckle, sending her temper up a notch.
    Charity stomped toward him, slinging mud with every step. She didn’t stop till she was inches away and staring into his face. “So you think this is funny?”
    He reached out and wiped a splatter of mud off her cheek. “Yeah, I do.”
    “It could have been a bear instead of a weasel. I only saw the fur.”
    “It could have been a squirrel, too. And technically it wasn’t a weasel, it was a marten.”
    Charity ignored the unwanted information. “What is it with you? Why do you always appear at exactly the wrong moment? You’re like … like some kind of evil genie or something.”
    He laughed and she wanted to hit him. “Evil genie. I’ve been called a lot of things, but never anything close to an evil genie. I think I kind of like it.”
    She poked a finger into the middle of his chest, which was as hard as she remembered. “I know I’m new out here, but I’m not stupid. In time, I’ll figure things out.”
    His smile slid away. The bluest eyes she’d ever seen were staring at her mouth. “I’m sure you will,” he said a little gruffly.
    “If you were any kind of neighbor, you’d try to help me instead of causing me trouble.”
    “Listen, doll face, if anyone’s trouble around here, it’s you.”
    She swallowed. His gaze moved slowly down her body and fixed on her breasts, and her nipples peaked as if they could feel it. He was breathing a little faster than he was before and suddenly so was she. She could feel the heat emanating from his big, hard body, smell his scent. It wrapped around her like smoke from a fire, heating her up from the inside out. His mouth was so close she could measure the fullness of his bottom lip. If he bent his head he could kiss her.
    Something shifted in the air between them. It felt thicker, heavier. He was so tall and male, so damned handsome. Desire coiled through her limbs, tugged low in her belly. His eyes locked with hers, as blue as the tip of a flame. For several long seconds, neither of them moved.
    Then Call stepped away. “You’re right,” he said roughly. “This isn’t easy country and as you say, we’re neighbors. If there’s something you need, let me know.”
    “Wh-what?”
    “I said, if—”
    “I heard what you said.” She eyed him with no little uncertainty. “You mean it?”
    He sighed, raked a hand through his thick, dark brown hair, dislodging several shiny strands. They curled as they fell across his forehead. “I suppose so.”
    “Why?”
    “Because at the rate you’re going, you’ll wind up getting hurt and I’d hate to see that happen.”
    “I’m tougher than you think.”
    His mouth curved and her stomach floated up beneath her ribs. “I’m beginning to believe that. I saw you working the dredge yesterday.”
    She couldn’t help a smile. “I think I’m getting the hang of it.”
    “Keep your eye on Buck.”
    She didn’t have to ask what he meant. “I will.” Charity didn’t say more and neither did he. She watched him walk away, thought how sexy he looked in a pair of jeans, and felt a renewed shot of lust. Her heart was thumping and her palms felt damp. It was ridiculous. The man was arrogant and pushy, cranky, and most of the time, downright unfriendly.
    She couldn’t remember ever feeling such an unwanted attraction to a man.
     
    Sally Beecham slid into the leather seat of Call’s black Jeep. The vehicle wasn’t flashy, but it was obvious he had spared no expense when he bought it. Equipped with a powerful, thick-cabled winch on the front, super-wide, ten-ply tires, a roll bar, and a black vinyl top, there wasn’t a four-wheel drive in Dawson that could compare. Her teenage son, Jimmy, and all his high-school friends were hoping she and Call would get together just so Jimmy could try it out, see what it could do.
    Sally was hoping she and Call would get together, too, because