Free For All Time by J.M. Powers Page A

placed a hand on her hip. “Are you drunk or something?” Or available? She stifled a nervous giggle.
    He paused before answering. “I do not believe I am drunk. Though I was just...” He stared at her, his gaze tunneling into a place she didn’t know existed. All she knew was it made it tingle. “Or I may well be drunk, for I do not...” It seemed he didn’t know what to say.
    Oh, and that English accent was downright yummy. Or was it Scottish? She suppressed a grin at the thought of him wearing nothing beneath a kilt. Why did her mind flitter there? “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what the hell are you doing up there?”
    “I-I do not know.” Worry washed over his face for a moment. “I fear I find myself in an awkward predicament.”
    “Tell me about it,” she muttered.
    He flashed a smile and shrugged.
    His smile disarmed her. Was that a dimple she spied? Of course. What hot guy didn’t have a dimple? But this one was in a tree. Not quite the best place to meet a man. Sage tore her gaze away from him and peered back down the trail.
    “Dear Saint Anthony, please come round, there’s something here that can’t be found,” she whispered. Yeah, so it was a little prayer she’d utter when she lost something. She’d apparently lost control of her effing mind. And body. Tingles or not, she really needed to get this guy help. Though she didn’t see a soul on the way in the nature reserve, she hoped someone, anyone, had arrived since. She sighed at the empty trail.
    She walked closer to the man, her hiking boots dredging up the combination of rot and dampness. “Are you hurt?”
    “It took quite some time for ye to ask.”
    “It took quite some time for me to process you being in a tree. So, are you hurt or not?”
    “Nay, I do not believe so. I am, however, wounded with embarrassment.”
    “Hilarious.” Her incessant grin overrode intended sarcasm.
    He chuckled and Tex took that as an invitation to dart between her legs, nearly tripping her in his haste to meet a new playmate.
    She grabbed a nearby branch to steady herself. “I better call 911 anyway.” She reached into her back pocket for her cell phone. “Or not.”
    He gave her a blank look. “Pray tell, what is nine-one-one?”
    “Very funny. Never mind. I left it on the charger anyway.” Sage lowered her voice and mocked him. “What is nine-one-one?” She giggled at the sore attempt at a English—or Scottish accent. She decided to find out which. “What accent do I detect?” That sounded intelligent, right?
    “English.” He gave another of his disarming smiles. “Ye be a strange sort.”
    “I’m not the one hanging out in a tree.”
    “’Tis about time I find a way down then.” He held the branch above and maneuvered back and forth with alternating hands until he shimmied out of the coat “Clever, aye?” He winked and reached for a nearby limb.
    “Quit acting like a monkey and pay attention to what you’re”—she winced with each crack, thud, and grunt until he finally landed on the forest floor— “doing.”
    Tex lunged for him, yipping like the fool he was.
    Slipping a dagger from his boot, the stranger leaped to his feet. “Control that beast!”
    In her rush to step back she nearly fell on her bottom. Thankfully, the taut leash kept her upright. “Seriously? What’s with the damn knife? My dog’s harmless! Put that away.” She snapped both hands up and struck a karate pose, hoping it looked convincing. When she thought about it, though, she was sure it just looked stupid, but she held it just the same. “I warn you. I have a black belt.” Tex sat at her feet peering up at her. Where was his ferocious bark now?
    He glanced at her waist. “I care not what ye wear.” He slid the dagger into the sheath on his boot then gave a curt nod and rubbed his side. “ Now I am hurt.”
    She glared at him. “Serves you right, Edward Scissorhands.” Okay, that was dumb, but in her state of mind, understandable.
    Two