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if it were a perfectly normal thing to do.

Her heart fell, and Sierra reached an arm toward him as he began to disappear into the blackness.

“Wait, Beck, don’t go!”

6

Sierra stared nervously at Beck, who was standing still as a statue, his massive back to her. She wondered if he had heard her. Wondered if he was going to come inside.

Probably not.

It wasn’t like things had changed just because he’d fended off some Copperheads. He had made it pretty clear that he had no interest in helping her.

But then why had he been hiding somewhere back behind her trees?

As if in response, he turned and tromped past her up her porch steps. His hand on the door, he looked at her from over his shoulder, cocking an eyebrow.

“I ain’t going into your house without you,” he said. “You coming in?”

That unfroze her.

She hurried up the steps as Beck pulled the door open and let himself in. His form was so wide that he had to turn sideways in order to fit through the small doorframe.

He made his way through her ancestral home like he knew the place by heart, and she couldn’t help but wonder why he was being so invasive.

She had invited him in, not the other way around.

When they got to her kitchen, he began to rummage around in the worn wooden cabinets, and Sierra just took a seat at the counter, unsure of what to say.

“Um, did you need something?” she asked.

He grunted. “I don’t need something. You need something. To eat. You’re paler than a ghost.”

Puzzled by why that should matter to him, Sierra sat back in her chair. She wanted to ask more questions, but the mountain man seemed angry and gruff and in his element, so she decided to let him do what he wanted with her kitchen.

She’d let him do whatever he wanted with her body too.

Don’t go there, Sierra.

She shook her head before becoming entranced with his hands. They were big and calloused and strong, obviously from hard days out on Dragonclaw Ranch.

But they moved so deftly that she wondered if he might be able to put them to more interesting uses.

Sierra, stop.

She looked down at her lap, eyes wide as she shoved the inappropriate thoughts out of her mind. She’d never really thought this way about a man before.

“Here,” he said, setting a plate in front of her. “Eat.”

In front of her was one of the most perfectly arrayed sandwiches she had ever seen. It was piled high with cheese, lettuce, meats, and other fixin’s.

She just stared at it for a second, drawing a laugh from Beck as he leaned back against the counter and folded his arms.

“What?” he said. “No man ever made you a sandwich before?”

“Not like this,” she replied, picking it up and taking a small bite.

It was delicious.

“Well, then I’m the first real man you’ve ever met,” Beck said, smirking smugly.

He was definitely something; that was for sure. Intimidating, huge, sexy, beating up Copperheads one second and then making her a sandwich the other.

And the sandwich was the part he seemed to be most proud of.

It was odd, almost as odd as the intense glower he gave her as she ate.

“So how is it?” he asked when she was about halfway done.

“Fantastic. I never would have expected you to be such a great cook.”

He frowned. “A man’s gotta eat, don’t he?”

“Well, yeah,” she said. “But I don’t reckon I’ve ever seen a man so good at cooking.”

“As I said, I’m the first real man you’ve ever met.” He winked, and it set off flutters in her belly. “But let’s change the subject.” He leaned forward on the counter. “How’d you get involved with the Copperheads?”

Sierra paused, wondering how much she should tell him. Even though she had only known him a few days, there was something about him that told her she could trust him.

“I haven’t been,” she answered honestly. “Tonight was the first night I’ve had trouble from them. I’m guessing it’s because Ross…” She trailed off. “Well, you know how the Clarksons are.”

“Enlighten me.”

“They own the whole town, most of this county in fact,” Sierra explained. “Been buyin’ up large swaths of land for years.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Yours included?”

“They’ve been trying, but I don’t plan on givin’ up my family’s homestead anytime soon.”

Not that she could really do anything now that Ross was getting pushier and Beck had turned down her idea to ask for help.

“Are you alone out here?” he asked. “I didn’t see anyone else when I came in.”

“It’s just me and Lasso,” she said. “Has been for years.”

He whistled through his teeth. “Sounds like a lot for one woman to have to handle all on her own. You’re pretty tough, lady.”

Sierra blushed and shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t sound like nothing,” he said, cocking an eyebrow. “Running a ranch, no matter the size, is a big deal, and to do it all on your own for several years is no easy feat. Hell, I don’t know how Harrison does it, even with all the help.”

“He’s the boss of Dragonclaw?”

“That he is.” Beck’s voice went quiet. “I’m sure it’s been lonely here for you too.”

“It has. But this is my home, and we’ve survived this far.” She paused. “I appreciate the sandwich, but you said you didn’t want to help, and I respect that, so why are you here?”

“Well,” Beck said, rubbing his neck uncomfortably. “Things changed. I want to help you.”

She lifted her head at that, feeling a glimmer of hope that she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Why?”

“Because, for some reason, I really care about what happens to you, Sierra.”

She blushed, and butterflies fluttered down in her stomach at the way her name sounded in the tone of his deep, growly voice.

Had he really just said that? He cared about her? This huge, gorgeous mountain of a man cared about her?

“I mean, as my neighbor,” he added gruffly. “And as someone who saved my life. I wouldn’t wanna see something bad

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