Haley's Mountain Man. Tracy Madison

circling with questions, Gavin strode toward his battered pickup truck, berating himself for almost giving in. For that mere second of belief that someone who didn’t know him would actually want to help. He knew better, but dammit, that second of belief had felt good.

      More than that. It had felt … possible.

      Asinine, that. Why would Haley Foster want to help him, a man she didn’t know, a man who wanted to start a business that could very well cut into some of her family’s income? Didn’t make a lick of sense, and anything that held zero logic raised every one of his red flags.

      In his truck, he tossed the clipboard on the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Dammit. He’d been in such an all-fire hurry to leave that he hadn’t left any of the flyers with Lola. So he’d have to go back, but not now. Likely not until he’d found the words to explain that there wasn’t a partnership with the Fosters, that there hadn’t been one to begin with and that no, he had no idea why Haley had claimed otherwise.

      Closing his eyes, he rested his head against his seat and exhaled a deep breath, tried to decide his next step. He could stop in at other businesses, as he’d originally planned, but he didn’t feel all that optimistic at the moment. Better to wait until he’d regrouped. Monday, maybe.

      Until then, he’d put in some physical labor around his property. Spend the day outside, in the sun, working his muscles until they ached. Yeah. That should do the trick. Of course, if he didn’t start earning more cash than his job at the hardware store gave him, his progress would come to a screeching halt. Not yet, though. He had a little extra left to work with, and plenty he could do with the materials he’d already purchased. Besides, however long it took, it took.

      There wasn’t any hurry. So long as he could move forward, he didn’t rightly care how slow that motion was. He opened his eyes and shoved the key into the ignition, started the engine. Home. Work. When the day ended, he’d have put himself back to rights.

      And he’d quit thinking about Haley Foster, her nonsensical offer to help and the way her almost-but-not-quite green eyes had stared into his as if she knew him. Shouldn’t be that difficult. She was, after all, just a woman. Not much more than a girl, really. And even if her offer had somehow been up front and honest, he’d meant what he said: he preferred to tend to his own business. Especially when the business in question meant so much.

      The Demkos were an aberration in a world of folks who were more concerned for themselves than anyone else. No reason to believe Haley Foster was also an aberration.

      With a muffled curse, he shifted into Drive and pulled onto the road. Too much to hope for, maybe, but that didn’t stop him from doing just that. The sensation was uncomfortable and threatening and dammit, he didn’t like it one bit.

      Reaching over, he switched on the radio and raised the volume loud enough to block out his thoughts, a maneuver that typically proved successful. Not today, and by the time he arrived home, he’d swept straight past uncomfortable into spitting mad and raring for a fight.

      Well, he’d work that out, too.

      And he would’ve, no doubt. But not thirty seconds after exiting his truck, a sky-blue compact car pulled in behind him, and the woman at the wheel was none other than Miss Haley Foster herself. She’d followed him home? Who did that?

      Forget gumption. The woman was insane, and had zero sense of self-preservation. Hell, as far she knew, he was an ax murderer. Why would she put herself at risk?

      He raked his fingers through his hair, silently counted to ten to rein in his irritation, his concern for her that also made no sense. Whatever she was up to, it stopped now. Had to.

      Otherwise, he might go and do something stupid. He might just let that hope take root. Or … he might start believing that the rules of the world—his world—had somehow changed. That, he knew, would be a false belief, and when everything righted itself again—which it absolutely would—he’d be worse off.

      He couldn’t go there. Wouldn’t let himself go there. Drawing in a deep breath, he marched forward. One way or another, this stopped now.

      Perhaps if she hadn’t grown up with three older brothers, Haley would’ve been fooled by Gavin’s nod of greeting and his easy, almost loose gait as he approached. Thanks to Reid, Dylan and Cole, however, she recognized when barely restrained anger darkened a man’s gaze.

      So, okay. Chasing after him probably hadn’t been her smartest move. Better, less intense, if she’d used the phone number on the flyer she’d snagged. Given him the chance to get to know her a little before barging into his life uninvited. But she hadn’t been thinking. She’d reacted.

      She was here now, though, and she intended to have her say. Then, if he asked—or by the looks of him, ordered—her to leave, she would. Probably. No, she would. Absolutely.

      Inhaling a fortifying breath, she unbuckled her seat belt and stepped from the car with her smile in place. Adrenaline pummeled through her, every bit as potent as if she’d downed an entire bottle of caffeine pills with an extra-large cola, and her heart knocked against her breastbone in a too-fast beat. Out of nerves, she told herself. Out of the belief that this—and the man himself—was important, and that she couldn’t screw this up.

      He came toward her, his expression serious, his eyes shadowed. Stopped in front of her and appraised her, gave his head that same slow shake she’d seen earlier. “Haley,” he said, his voice gruff and low. “This is … unexpected. Why are you here?”

      The way he stood and stared, waiting quietly, raised her nerves another notch. Too bad she hadn’t considered exactly how to go about this, exactly how to explain her instinctual need to follow him. Instead, she grabbed on to the first words that popped into her head, lame as they were, and said, “You ran out of the Beanery so fast, I didn’t have the chance to thank you.”

      He blinked. “Thank me?”

      “For the tea. And I wanted to thank you. So, um, thanks!”

      Creases lined his forehead and his jaw did that clenching, unclenching thing again, and she knew—just knew—he was still working hard to keep his anger at bay. “Are you in some type of trouble that I should know about?”

      “Nope. No trouble.”

      “There isn’t a crazed boyfriend hot on your heels you need protecting from?”

      “Nope,” she repeated, weirdly pleased by this question. She might have taken the opportunity to flirt—just a little—but a chunk of long, loose hair fell into her face. She brushed it aside. “Don’t have any boyfriend at the moment, let alone a crazed one.”

      Disbelief coated his expression, and that pleased her, too.

      “Your car isn’t making funny noises that have you concerned?” he asked in an even, almost rigid manner. “You’re not ill or injured or in need of any medical attention whatsoever?”

      “Car is running great…. Well, maybe not great, but certainly nothing out of the ordinary, and I’m feeling terrific. Really … terrific. I do, however, appreciate your concern.” She widened her smile, batted her eyelashes. “Greatly, even. Very sweet of you to ask.”

      “That’s me all right, sweet.” He pushed out a short breath. “And I’m guessing you’re not here to borrow a cup of sugar or to sell me something, correct?”

      “Correct! I’m all set in the sugar department. And, I don’t know. Are you looking to buy anything?” Uh-oh. Based on the scowl currently decorating the mountain man’s face, she might have gone a little too far to the flippant side of the equation. “Listen, I really just wanted—”

      “Glad you’re all set. Hope you enjoyed the drive here, and take care on the drive back.” With those tersely uttered words, he pivoted and strode in the direction of his truck, his gait no longer easy or loose. Just … bam, he’d heard enough and was done with the conversation.

      Unaccustomed to people walking