Chosen by Denise Grover Swank Page A

along with her head. Way not to look suspicious, dumbass. Yet Emma took it in stride, staring at him like he sprouted another head but was too polite to say so. What the hell happened to her ?
    She’s grateful. Gratitude made her feel indebted to him. A slow grin curved his mouth as he realized he could use it to his advantage. He turned a fraction of an inch to watch her as she bent over the first aid box. She was pretty, but either she didn’t realize it or tried to hide it. Perhaps from all her years of hiding and trying to stay unnoticed. She used her abrasive exterior to keep people out. From what little he had seen, he knew it had to be effective. He realized she only let her guard down because she thought she could trust him. The tiny stab of guilt he felt over that puzzled him, but he ignored it. There was something else, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It came to him as she opened a bandage and placed it on his cut with a bewildering gentleness. Emma had lost her anger. Just as he rediscovered his.
    Emma closed the lid to the first aid kit and turned her head and smiled, the smile she saved for Jake. The pureness of it caught him off guard and his heart tripped. She studied his face, her eyes holding his in a thoughtful gaze, mesmerizing him. The dark pools promised some unnamed consolation he had forgotten he craved. Until now.
    He clenched the water bottle in his hands, fighting the urge to touch her, yet unable to drag his eyes away. Her smile deepened with a look of tenderness and he had to suppress the impulse to suck in his breath. Emma lifted her hand to his face, placing her fingers on his temple and stroked his cheek with a feathery touch. She leaned over and her lips brushed his cheek, her breath hot on his face, hotter than the summer night’s air. He found himself drowning with a need he couldn’t name. His eyes closed involuntarily; this wasn’t lust, a sensation he was all too familiar with. This was something else. And it scared him.
    “See, I kissed it and made it better,” she whispered in his ear. Will wondered how she could speak at all, much less with the teasing tone she used. He was still trying to remember to breathe.
    “Um, I have to go to the bathroom.”
    It took him a moment to realize it was a question. “Ah,” he cleared his throat. Get it together, idiot . “We’re going to stay here for the night, so that’s our bathroom.” He gestured to the oak tree.
    If the news upset her, she hid it well. “Do we happen to have any toilet paper?”
    Will got up and dug through the storage box. He handed her a couple of napkins. Her fingers grazed his as she took them, reigniting his desire. Moron .
    “Thanks.” She walked toward the tree and turned to see him still watching her. “Turn around, Will.”
    “Free country, Princess,” he said, grateful for his returned bravado.
    Her face scrunched in disgust and she walked behind the tree trunk. “Seriously, Will.”
    He made a show of turning away from her, but was thankful to have a moment to recover.
    She emerged from behind the tree several minutes later, holding the napkin gingerly in her fingers. “Got a trash bag?”
    “Aren’t those biodegradable?”
    She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow, the napkin dangling from her hand.
    Will groaned and retrieved a plastic bag from the storage box. He hopped down from the truck bed and walked toward her. “Here you go.”
    She took the bag from him, looking up into his face. Moving this close to her was a mistake. His breath caught in his chest and the fire he tempered earlier now roared back to life. His fried brain told him to reach out to her. Instinct told him to stop.
    “I’ve got to go, too.” He turned abruptly and walked toward the tree to get a moment away from her. The sound of the truck door opening and closing blended with the sound of crickets and the rustle of corn. When he finished he found her sitting on the truck bed, her legs dangling. Her