Free Rock with You (Risking It All) by Rachel Lacey Page A

face, he knew he had never seen her before.
    “Hi there,” he called out.
    She scrambled off her perch with a startled squeak, almost pitching face-first into the creek. With one hand on the rock for balance, she turned to face him.
    And hot damn , she was gorgeous. Her eyes were a shade darker than her hair, as wide as they were wary. She looked a little out of place here in the woods dressed like that—he didn’t know any local women who went hiking in a skirt—but most interesting were the black leather boots peeking out from under its folds. Not girly dress-up boots. These looked more like combat boots, and for some reason, paired with the blue skirt, they were smokin’ hot.
    “Sorry.” He held his hands out in front of him. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
    “I—well—oh!” She swatted at something near her face. “Ouch!”
    He stepped closer. “Something sting you?”
    “Yes, it’s okay. I’m not allergic. Ack! ” She let out a little shriek, ducking and swatting around her head.
    Ethan lunged forward, spotting several yellow jackets buzzing around her head. “You must have disturbed a nest.” He put a hand on her arm and tugged her away from the rock where she’d been sitting.
    With another shriek, she jumped, landing flush against him, her face pressed into his shirt. Just as quickly, she pushed past him, leaving behind the faint scent of honeysuckle and the warm impression of her body on his.
    Something he’d like to explore…later. He glanced back and spotted the nest she’d accidentally trampled, now easily visible thanks to the swarm of angry wasps flying in and out. “We’ve got to get away from that nest.”
    He nudged her ahead of him, swatting at yellow jackets. One of the little fuckers stung his arm, and it hurt like a son of a bitch. He smashed it beneath his palm. “You doing okay?” he asked the woman ahead of him. His arm was on fire from one sting, and she’d received several.
    “There’s one in my hair. Oh God—” She clawed at her head.
    “Let me.” He disentangled her fingers then combed through her hair until he found a yellow jacket busily stinging her scalp. He squashed it. “Got it.”
    He inhaled the scent of honeysuckle from her hair, then winced at the angry welt already forming on her scalp.
    “My skirt—” She grabbed it in her fists, shaking madly.
    They’d gone up her skirt? Oh hell. Ethan wasn’t touching this one with a ten-foot pole. “Ah—”
    She stomped and twirled until thankfully a yellow jacket escaped from the folds of her skirt. Ethan ground it into the dirt before it could strike again.
    “Please tell me that was the last one.” Her hands flitted anxiously by her face, which had flushed a dark pink. Two red welts had risen on her left cheek, and another was visible on her forehead.
    Damn. “I don’t see any more. You said you’re not allergic, right?”
    “Yes. I mean, no, I’m not.” She dabbed at one of the welts on her cheek and winced.
    “Either you really pissed them off or they like the smell of your shampoo. Let’s keep going to put a little more distance between us and their nest.” He led her along the path by the stream, walking briskly.
    “I came from that way.” She pointed in the direction of one of the town’s hiking trails.
    “I figured, but you wandered onto my property, so I’ll drive you back to wherever you’re parked.”
    “Your property?” She pulled back. “I’m sorry. I—”
    He shook his head. “Don’t even worry about it. I think we lost the yellow jackets. Let me have another look at you.”
    She stopped short, her pretty face now alarmingly red and splotchy. “Thank you for your help, but I should really go back the way I came.”
    “No way I’m letting you out of my sight right now. Hang on. I have an ice pack.” He reached into the pack he wore slung over his right shoulder. “I’m Ethan Hunter, by the way.”
    “Gabrielle Winters—Gabby. An ice pack does sound great.