Read Unbound: (InterMix) for Free Online Page B

had gone by the time the oatmeal was served,
     Rob turning shy or strained once more. Or maybe she’d imagined that brief connection,
     so eager to feel close to someone after weeks on her own. And to feel connected to
     someone who lived in such a strange and interesting way—some validation of her trip.
    Or maybe she really
was
that hard up, and secretly angling to mess around with a hot hermit. That deep voice
     at her ear, whispering wicked things in its hard accent, survival-roughened palms
     on her skin.
    But for better or worse—likely better—Rob had not deigned to hit on her in any way.
    She was disappointed, if not shocked. She might be in the best shape of her life,
     but she still had a big bandage on her head and had spent the better half of their
     acquaintance with a puke bowl perched at the ready in her lap.
    She abandoned the warm cocoon of his bed. The heat of the stove reached her through
     the stone wall and there was wood smoke in the air. Merry hoped there might be a cup
     of hot tea in her near future. As she wrestled into her bra and a pair of stretchy
     hiking pants, the lump at her temple echoed with dull, achy pulsations. A brief spell
     of dizziness made the walls turn. With a few deep breaths, the sensations eased. She
     was better, if not ready to go tromping blithely back down the hillside. She wondered
     how her host might react if she asked to linger for a second night.
    For no good reason whatsoever, she dabbed perfume behind her ears, from the tiny sample
     vial she’d included in her toiletries. It smelled exotic here, mingling with the smoke
     and wood and wool scents of Rob’s home.
    Once dressed, she didn’t find him in the den—nor any hot tea. What she did find was
     a note written on a scrap of cardboard and propped on the rocker.
Out pottering. Shout and I’ll hear you.
    But she didn’t need to shout.
    She found her host out back, kneeling in the dirt, digging potatoes from a patch of
     the garden. A small gray dog was sitting at his side, but it took no notice of Merry.
     The watery sun peeking from behind a layer of clouds told her it was probably about
     eleven.
    “Morning!”
    The dog didn’t react, but Rob glanced up, mustering one of his grudging smiles. The
     knees of his jeans were filthy, flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, sweat gleaming
     on his forehead. He looked like an ad for something unspeakably manly, like pumice
     soap or whiskey.
    “Morning yourself. Sleep well?”
    “Amazing, thanks.”
    The dog turned its head, shot to its feet. Its tail wagged once, but it didn’t approach.
    “Who’s this?” Merry came close, mindful not to tread on Rob’s plots, though most looked
     spent for the year. She clapped her hands on her thighs. The dog backed up. Not cowering,
     not growling, but nervous. She stopped, not wanting to scare it.
    “He’s a bit odd with strangers,” Rob said, giving it an encouraging nudge in the backside.
     “Don’t take it too personally.”
    Sounds like someone I know.
    “I’m surprised he didn’t hear my grand arrival.” She knelt, luring the dog close enough
     to rub its ears. “God knows I whistled loud enough.”
    “He’s completely deaf.”
    “Ah.” The dog warmed to her, ratty tail beginning to twitch.
    “And not entirely continent.”
    Her hands paused at that, and the dog trotted off to drink from a bucket by the back
     door.
    Rob dropped a potato in a basket holding more of the same, then got to his feet. He
     stripped off the flannel, tossing it over a fence post. Under it he wore a mustard-yellow
     tee. A cartoon cross-section of a log was silkscreened on the chest, framed by the
     slogan,
Rush Carpentry, Seacroft—Don’t Let the Name Fool You!
He’d worn the thing ten thousand times, to judge by the dozens of tiny holes nibbled
     along the collar and seams.
    It seemed Merry’s attraction hadn’t been a symptom of her head injury. Rob looked
     just as gruffly sexy this morning, blue eyes bright in