Trust in Me

And then Jase straightened.

Oh man, my mouth dropped open. Nothing in this world could’ve made me look away from the splendor before me.

Jase was shirtless and his skin glistened with sweat. I wasn’t sure what ethnicity he had in his family background. There had to be something Spanish or Mediterranean, because he had a naturally tan skin tone that remained that way all year round.

As he walked around the tractor, his muscles did fascinating things. His pecs were perfectly formed and his shoulders were broad. He had the kind of muscles one got from lifting bales of hay and tossing them places. Boy was ripped. His stomach muscles tensed with each step. He had a very distinctive six-pack. Totally touchable. His jeans hung indecently low—low enough that I wondered if he had on anything underneath the faded denim.

It was the first time I saw the full extent of his tattoo. Ever since I’d known him, I’d caught glimpses of it peeking out from his collar on his left shoulder and from under a shirtsleeve. I never knew what it was until now.

The tat was massive—an endless knot shaded in deep black, starting at the base of his neck, looping and twisting over his left shoulder and halfway down his arm. At the bottom, two loops opposite one another reminded me of snakes.

It was a perfect fit for him.

A flush spread across my cheeks and traveled down my throat as I dragged my gaze back up, mouth dry as the desert.

Sinewy muscles in his arms flexed as he pulled Jack out of the driver’s seat, lifting him into the air above his head. He spun around in a circle, laughing deeply as Jack shrieked and flailed.

Ovaries go boom.

He sat Jack down on the ground as Cam opened the driver’s-side door, yelling something at his friend, but I had no idea what he said. Jase straightened again, dropping his hands to his hips. He squinted as he stared into the truck.

Jase was absolutely gorgeous. You couldn’t say that about a lot of people in real life. Maybe celebrities or rock stars, but it was rare to see someone as stunning as he was.

His hair was a mess of rich russet waves falling into his face. His cheekbones were broad and well defined. Lips were full and could be quite expressive. A hint of stubble shaded the strong curve of his jaw. He didn’t have dimples like Cam or me, but when he did smile, he had one of the biggest, most beautiful smiles I’d ever seen on a guy.

He wasn’t smiling right now.

Oh no, he was staring into the truck with a searing intensity.

Parched as I was, I took a sip of the sweet tea as I stared through the windshield, absolutely enthralled by all the baby-making potential on display before me. Not that I was in a hurry to make babies, but I could totally get behind some practice runs. At least in my fantasies.

Cam eyed me and made a face like I’d lost my damn mind. I might have. “Dude, that’s his drink.”

“Sorry.” I flushed, lowering the cup. Not that it mattered. Wasn’t like Jase and I hadn’t swapped spit before.

On the other side of the windshield, Jase mouthed the word shit and spun around. Was he going to run away? How dare he? I had his sweet tea!

In a hurry, I unhooked my seat belt and pushed open the door. My foot slipped out of my flip-flop and because Cam just had to have a redneck truck, one that was feet off the ground, there was a huge difference between where I was and where the ground was.

I used to be graceful. Hell, I was a dancer—a trained, damn good dancer—and I had the kind of balance that would make gymnasts go green with envy. But that was before the torn ACL, before my hopes of dancing professionally ended when I came down from a jump wrong. Everything—my dreams, my goals, and my future—had been over in an instant.

And I was about to eat dirt in less than a second. There was no stopping it.

I reached out to catch the door, but came up short. The foot that was going to touch the ground first was connected to my bum leg and it wouldn’t hold my weight. I was going to crash and burn in front of Jase and end up with tea all over my head.

As I started to fall, I hoped I would land on my face, because then at least I wouldn’t have to see his expression.

Out of nowhere, two arms shot out and hands landed on my shoulders. One second I was horizontal, halfway fallen out of the truck, and the next I was vertical, both feet dangling in the air for a second. And then I was standing, the cup of tea clutched to my chest.

“Good God, you’re going to break your neck,” a deep voice rumbled. “Are you okay?”

I was up close and personal with the most perfect chest I’d ever seen and I watched a bead of sweat trickle down the center of it and then over the cut abs, disappearing among the fine hairs trailing up from the center of his stomach, forming a line that continued under the band of his jeans.