This couldn’t be right.
For some unfathomable reason, on my way here, I’d built up this idea in my head. On the plane, I’d convinced myself that I was heading to a North Carolina city—maybe a suburb, which would explain why I hadn’t heard of it. This was an assignment, after all. A philanthropic venture led by an MLS team. It was a serious project in a real town. But I found that hard to believe now.
Whatever place this property was attached to couldn’t be a city. Or a suburb. It didn’t look like there was a large enough town anywhere close, either.
I was surrounded by… nature. Woodland. Slopes covered in emerald greens and coppery browns. I’d driven down dirt roads that had led me to the kind of property I saw advertised as a rustic alpine retreat. There were birds chirping. Leaves rustling. Wind gusting. Silence.
I hated it.
I’d been too careless. Too hasty. I should have checked the location Kelly had sent me before programming it into the maps app. I should have researched. I should have—
“You’ve arrived at your destination,” the female voice of my maps app chanted.
I ignored the clogging sensation at the bottom of my throat and rounded the cabin again, looking for a place to park. There had to be an explanation. A reason. Probably a major town I’d missed coming up a shortcut in the mountains. And, hey, at least the cabin was… tasteful. Most people would be glad to be given the opportunity to escape to such a peaceful place. Mountain-fresh air. Cozy sunsets under a blanket. A porch facing the greenery.
But I wasn’t most people.
I hated the cold. And I didn’t have that strange need to travel across the country in search of fresh air. I liked Miami’s air. The city. The coast. Even the overwhelming heat. My job with the Flames. My life.
My stomach twisted, a ball of nausea climbing up.
Images of Sparkles’s head dropping to the grass flashed behind my eyes.
Breach of contract.
Female rage.
Embarrassing.
You’re a distraction, so I want you to leave Miami.
My palms turned clammy again, the steering wheel feeling slippery. Was the car still moving or had I put it in park?
“Adalyn?” Matthew asked, reminding me he was still there. Had he been talking? “Talk to me.”
But I was too busy trying to focus on whatever was going on in my body. Was this exhaustion? Dehydration? When was the last time I’d had water? Was I PMS-ing? I shook my head. Oh God, was I losing it again? I—
Something hit the bumper with a thump.
I slammed on the brakes, the action so sudden, so rough, that my whole body shot forward.
My forehead bounced against the steering wheel.
“Ouch.” I heard myself groan through the ringing in my ears.
“ADALYN?” came from somewhere to my right. Matthew’s voice. It sounded muffled now. “Jesus Christ, what just happened?”
“I hit something,” I announced, a stinging sensation burning the right side of my forehead. With a ragged breath, I gave myself three seconds, letting my head rest on the leathery surface of the wheel, before I straightened up and turned my head, looking for my phone, which had fallen from the dashboard.
Matthew’s voice returned.
“Tell me you’re okay or I swear I’ll call your mother right fucking now—”
“No,” I croaked. “Please, don’t. Not Maricela. She can’t know.” I blinked, trying to clear the tiny spots popping around the edges of my field of vision. “I’m good,” I murmured, spotting something moving outside the car. Something… that was running. And… Clucking? “I think I just hit a chicken.”
Unintelligible swearing came from the speaker while I released the seatbelt and picked the phone up from the floor. I returned to the upright position and—
My head swirled. “That was a mistake,” I murmured.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Adalyn. The Green Warriors—”
“I feel like I need to throw up.”
“Get out of that car,” he said. “Now.”
With a nod Matthew couldn’t see, I put the car in reverse. “The car is in the middle of the driveway so I’m going to park and then—”
“No.”
“I can’t just leave the car here.” Pebbles jumped from under the tires as the vehicle started to move. “Maybe I should check on the chicken, too.” A thought formed in the haziness that was my head. “Oh God. What if I killed it?” My eyes drifted to the direction the chicken had run off. I couldn’t believe this. “Another stupid bird.”
My eyelids fluttered shut. Just for a moment. It couldn’t have been more than a nanosecond, a short-lived reprieve, but—
A thump jolted me.
A thump. I had hit something. Again. Something larger than a chicken. Something like a—God, don’t let it be a bear.
My eyes blinked open, panic surging.
In the same breath, a growl—a bear-like growl to my utter dismay—came from the rear of the car. My foot shot forward. But my head was fuzzy and my basic reflexes clearly amiss, because instead of the brakes, I must have hit the accelerator.
And hurled the rental against a tree.
CHAPTER THREE
Cameron
The woman inside the car was unconscious.
“Hello?” I called, squinting my eyes. I was trying to get a look at her face, but her head was against the window and the only thing I could see was a tangle of… brown hair. I knocked on the window and repeated, a little louder, “Hello?”
No reaction.
Christ. This wasn’t good.
Pushing aside the pang of lingering annoyance and anger, I wiggled the door handle, hoping the car was unlocked and feeling immediate relief when it opened with a swift click.
Relief that vanished the moment the woman toppled to the side like a dead weight.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, catching her midair.
This had just escalated from inconvenient to concerning.
Without losing more time, I secured her against my chest and plucked her completely out of the vehicle so I could place her on the ground.
I kneeled next to her, that mass of hair still obscuring her face and pushing me to brush it aside with my hand. A set of parted lips, a button nose, and pale cheeks were revealed. Too pale, I noticed, my gaze inspecting her for obvious injuries. My eyes stopped at a bump on her forehead. It was an ugly shade of red and didn’t alleviate any of my concern.
“Hello?” I called a third time, not obtaining any reaction from her. I patted her cheek softly. Still nothing. “Christ.”
I tilted my head back for a second, dragging my hand down my face and dreading the reasonable course of action. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact she’d almost run me over. Missing the fucking bird that had been roaming the property for weeks was fair enough, but me? I had been standing right behind the car. And I wasn’t a small bloke. She’d overlooked a six-foot-two man in broad daylight, then hurled the goddamn car against a tree.
“And now you’re going to make me call a bloody ambulance, aren’t you?” I whispered, shaking my head and pulling my phone out of my pocket. “Of course you are.”
Just as I was unlocking it, though, she finally stirred, recapturing my attention.