Free Novak Raven (Harper's Mountains Book 4) by T. S. Joyce

figure through the woods and to her car.
    She’d never seen Weston stammer or struggle for words, but he had just had the cutest man-freak-out she’d ever witnessed, and all caused by her.
    She had no idea why, but she, Avery Foley—relative nobody, bait, and broken raven—had somehow managed to fluster Weston Novak.

Chapter Nine
     
    By the time Avery reached the road, Weston had the hood of her car popped open and resting on the prop. He was talking low into his phone, shielding the little device from the rain by using the hood as an umbrella. His black T-shirt was plastered to him like a second skin, and his back muscles rippled as he poked and prodded around the innards of her car.
    It was raining in earnest now. Avery didn’t normally like the feel of chilled skin and damp clothes, but standing here on the side of the road, watching Weston try to save her, was kind of beautiful.
    Weston’s dark eyebrows were lowered in concentration, and his lips were so sensual as he spoke into the cell. His baseball cap was wet, there was a constant drip-drip of rainwater falling from the bill to trickle down his back, and his boots were covered in mud.
    He’d come for her.
    He’d left his birthday celebration and followed her, tracked her through the woods, and without a single plea from her, was taking the reins of her chaotic life for a minute so she could rest her weary mind. And damn, it felt so good not to have to worry about anything for tonight, because every instinct in her said Weston would take care of her. Perhaps not for always, and perhaps only as friends, but that was better than nothing.
    His triceps flexed as he pushed on something inside of her car, and when he muttered a curse, she asked, “Can I do anything?”
    “Nah, and neither can I tonight. Your battery is older than dinosaur shit, your belt is shot, and your engine didn’t even try to turn over for me. Maybe it’s just the battery, but I don’t like how it died mid-ride on you.”
    “Oh.” She wrung her hands and tried to imagine how much all of this would cost to repair at an auto shop. How discouraging that her first paycheck and probably more would already be blown.
    “I can get it running again, but I need parts and can’t get them until tomorrow. I’ll call the police station and tell them we’ll tow it to Harper’s Mountains in the morning so they won’t give you a ticket tonight. You can ride with me.”
    “But you have tours tomorrow,” she said. “Weston, I appreciate you helping me, but I won’t risk your new business for this.”
    Weston jerked his gaze to hers, and a flash of surprise was there in his eyes. Then they softened, and he let off a slight smile just before he gave his attention back to lowering the hood of her car. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll take care of it after the tours are done for the day.”
    “Okay.” She wanted to say so much more than that. She wanted to tell him how much this all meant to her, how relieved she was that he wasn’t mad at her anymore. She wanted to tell him if he ever needed anything—anything at all—she would gladly do it. But he was locked onto her with his gaze again, and her words got all caught up in her throat. His eyes were the pitch black that hers turned when her raven was riled up, and his lips were pursed, as though he was trying to figure her out.
    He looked beautiful here in the soft glow of the streetlight behind him. Beautiful? That was an impossible word for a man who was strapped with muscles and covered in tattoos, but he was. He was her beautiful raven man. This moment right here felt like she was falling. Not sinking in the mud that had taken over her life, but the feeling she got when she dove from a great height and spread her wings at the last minute, when her stomach dipped to the ground and made her want to laugh and yell with happiness. She had always been intrigued and a little intimidated by Weston Novak, but now she was falling hard