Hearts Awakened Read Online Free PDF

held and she eyed the muscles playing in his forearms. His arms were as tight and toned as his legs. Her fingertips itched with a sudden urge to explore the texture of his skin and the indentations of muscles and tendons.
    Instead, she pushed them through her hair, sure it looked like a bird’s nest by now. A memory of Angel’s perfectly coiffed and perfectly huge blonde hair flashed through her mind. “How about a ride home then?”
    He lifted his head and fixed her with a measuring gaze. That look made her want to squirm like a misbehaving child under a parent’s chiding expression. What was she doing, acting normal with Mark Cook? He’d seen her at her absolute worst, exposed, bruised, hysterical, violated. He knew everything and he had to know what the request had cost her.
    “No need.” He dropped his gaze to the wrench again. “I’ll just walk back to the farmer’s market and—”
    “Mr. Townsend’s already gone. He was leaving when I passed by.”
    He shrugged, an easy roll of broad shoulders. “Then I’ll hike over to Tick’s and call a tow truck.”
    “That’s almost five miles and it’s in the opposite direction.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Why not let me give you a ride and you can call from home.”
    “Because.” He straightened and turned those sharp gray eyes on her again. “I’d rather not put you through the stress of having me in the car with you.”
    A wave of humiliation stiffened her spine and she met his gaze full on. “For your information, I have been in a car with other men in the last seven years.”
    His mouth twitched. “Your brothers don’t count.”
    “I didn’t mean them. I’ve dated. You don’t think I’ve ridden in a car with those guys?”
    One dark eyebrow rose and she cringed, waiting for him to bring up Jeff Schaefer and what had happened to the girls foolish enough to get in a car with him. Oh, she’d walked into that one.
    Cookie folded his arms over his chest, and again she was drawn to the delineation of muscle in his forearm. “Tell me your stomach’s not all knotted up, thinking about being in that tin can of yours with me.”
    It was, but not totally for the reason he believed. She tossed her hair back. “I’m fine with it.”
    Her voice didn’t even tremble with the outright lie, giving her courage.
    He continued to watch her. She resisted the urge to shift under that steady gaze. Finally, he nodded. “All right.”
    Relief surged through her, followed by another wave of dread. “Great. Have anything you need to take with you?”
    “Yeah.” He slammed the hood and moved to the back of the SUV. After tossing the wrench into an open toolbox, he lifted a handful of plastic grocery bags from the hatch. “Will these fit in your trunk?”
    “Of course.” She glared at him. Her poor car suffered more potshots from him and her brothers, simply because it was small and defenseless. Her scowl shifted into a smirk. At least her vehicle was running.
    Retrieving her backpack, she met him at the rear of the car and popped the trunk. The gilt-edged mirror she’d picked up at a little antique shop in Parrot the weekend before still lay on the gray carpet, and she caught a glimpse of the two of them reflected in the blurry surface. He wasn’t much taller, only three or four inches, but his broad shoulders and chest made her feel dainty, feminine. An ache flitted through her lower belly.
    Cheeks burning, she leaned down to flip the mirror over and spread a flamingo-pink beach towel over it for protection. She set her backpack in the corner of the trunk and turned for his bags.
    He was staring at her, at the strip of skin bared when she’d leaned over and her snug T-shirt rode up above her oft-washed jeans. The twinge in her stomach spread, became sharper, and he lifted his gaze to hers quickly. A flush darkened his cheekbones.
    Striving to keep her voice level, she reached for the bags. “Let me have those.”
    “Thanks.” Remote again, he