Free Crushing on Love (The Bradens of Peaceful Harbor, Book Four) by Melissa Foster Page B

HEADING OUT for his morning run, Steve drew a map of the mountain, marking fox dens and landmarks, and carried it through the woods to Shannon’s cabin. It had taken all of his willpower not to give in to his desires the other night. He’d slept like hell, and then she hadn’t come around all day, which had been torture in and of itself. Not to mention that last night had been another sleepless night, thinking about her in that sexy little outfit dancing with Lord knew who. He’d swung by her cabin at around eleven thirty, and it was pitch-dark. He hated that she was out at a bar that late, and he worried about her coming home alone. At least he hoped she’d been alone. He’d heard her drive in about an hour later.
    Didn’t she know to leave her porch light on? This wasn’t suburbia. Threats in the wild didn’t have warning labels or flashing lights. They had sharp teeth, fierce claws, and the ability to stalk and kill in the blink of an eye. He’d wanted to wait on her porch to make sure she got inside safely, but she wasn’t his to protect. And worse, what if she’d come home with Cal or some other guy? He definitely didn’t need to be there for that .
    His chest tightened at the sight of the jars he’d left for her. The solar lights would soak up the sun today and light her way tonight—for whatever she had planned. Damn, he hated this shit. Why did the one woman he wanted have to be someone who lived halfway across the country and would never be content with his lifestyle? He set the map on the porch, glad there weren’t two cars in the driveway, and went on his way.
    He made the rounds while he was out for his run and found a tree had fallen across one of the trails a few miles from his cabin. There went his day. After his run he checked his email, something he hated doing for the mere fact that he abhorred doing anything online, but it was part of his job. It wasn’t that he hated technology; he simply disliked the way it usurped people’s lives. He read through the morning reports, noting the locations of bears and mountain lion sightings, then moved on to checking his voicemail. His mother’s cheerful voice came though the line. She must have called when he was out last night. She’d found a box of his things in the cellar and thought he might want it. It was too early to call, so he made a mental note to try her later.
    He hadn’t heard back from the calls he’d made about the Cumberland property, but he knew he’d hear shortly. He had a good rapport with the people he’d reached out to. Of course, a good rapport didn’t mean squat when it came to shelling out the kind of money needed to acquire the property.
    He spent most of the afternoon taking care of the downed tree, which was a blessing in disguise. He not only needed the distraction but also the space to clear his mind. As the hours passed, his thoughts remained on Shannon. He had a feeling he could move to Kalamazoo and she’d still be right there, taking up his every thought with her vibrant smile and those gorgeous hazel eyes. Her eyes pulled him in time and time again, the way they went from excited to seductive in the space of a second.
    By late afternoon, the only thing that had become clear was that being a good guy sucked.
    He hiked down by the ridge where he’d seen the kids partying the other day and was pleased to see there were no signs of them. He checked on a few other trails, trying to keep his mind off of the one person he wanted to find, but it was a losing battle. Unable to resist, he finally took a detour and hiked to two of the fox dens he’d marked on the map. Disappointment welled in the pit of his stomach when she wasn’t at either of them. He wondered if she was thinking about him and cursed himself for wondering. Not only had she gotten under his skin, but she’d crawled into his brain and charmed him like a snake.
    On his way back to the cabin, he came across a goshawk lying among the brush. He crouched