He’d shouldered the burden of being the point man at Mesa Falls to give Weston a break from a job he’d done so well for years. He couldn’t spill all of the owners’ secrets to the first reporter who showed up. Even if this particular reporter was causing heat to creep up his spine and flare along his shoulders.

“Sure.” She unlatched the simple door that was more like a roll bar, and stepped outside before he could offer her his hand. “It will help me break in the new boots.”

Fixing his attention on her legs was almost as dangerous as thinking about the past they’d shared. Both fueled flames he wasn’t sure how to tamp down. Cursing himself for the lack of focus, he emerged from the vehicle and met her behind it, pointing to a trail that led down to the creek.

“Let’s go this way.” He wrenched off his jacket and tossed it in the cargo bed along with his Stetson. “It’s warming up,” he noted, tugging his long sleeves higher.

Elena’s gaze dropped to his forearms, and he remembered her fascination with his tattoos. Seeing the way her dark eyes wandered over him, he vowed to send a generous bonus to the guy back home in New Zealand who’d done the distinctive work.

Because yeah, it was a blissful relief to know he wasn’t the only one battling an attraction.

“Can I ask you something?” When she looked into his eyes, her expression was thoughtful. Curious.

“As long as it’s not about Alonzo—”

She was already shaking her head. “We never spoke after the day I flew home alone from New Zealand. But I’ve always wondered about something.”

He tensed, guessing he wouldn’t like whatever came next. So much for thinking she might be feeling the old attraction, too. “That was the second-worst day of my life,” he admitted, already raw from battling the draw of this woman. “I don’t remember it that well.”

But she kept going, her chin tilting up as she met his gaze. “When your father told you to break things off with me because my family would be an embarrassment to the Strikers, did you even consider asking me about it first?”

Five

Elena’s defensiveness was ratcheting up in equal measure to her attraction.

The sight of those tattoos crawling up Gage’s forearms had given her vivid memories of times his arms had been pinned to the bed on either side of her, muscles flexing while he moved over her. She’d been moments away from swooning on the spot. So she’d reached for the verbal sword and shield to hang on to the old sense of betrayal. She wasn’t proud of herself for the predictable antics, but she was too susceptible to Gage’s brand of sex appeal.