The Bride Tournament (Hexed Hearts Book 1)(12)

A shiver ran down her spine as a wolf howled in the distance.

Fifteen painful minutes later, she made it through the thicket and to the white stone gate. Two men stood sentry at the gate as she stumbled up the steps with the heavy pumpkin. She couldn’t make out their faces, but neither was Rufus, judging by their height.

Her heel missed the last step and gravity shifted. She tilted forward and thrust a hand out to catch herself. The pumpkin wobbled in her one-handed grasp. By sheer force of will, she kept her hold on the gourd, but her already sore shoulder smacked into a hard surface.

At the unexpected contact, Ellie lost her hold on the pumpkin and it slipped from her fingers to land with a sickening splat on the stone pavement.

Orange guts painted the white ground.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” a deep voice chided.

Ellie looked up…and up.

It’s him. The giant man from the service hallway. He grinned at her with a cocky tilt of his lips. She crinkled her nose at him. Was he a guard?

“Look what you’ve done.” Ellie pointed to the smashed gourd.

“My apologies, milady.” He bowed at the waist, the formal movement surprisingly not at odds with his large frame. He made it look effortless.

Not impressed, she lied to herself. She crossed her arms and gave him her best frown. He smiled and she spied a crease in his dimpled chin. Her mouth watered.

The other guard stepped to her side. “Milady, you cannot speak with such disrespect to the—”

The giant man lifted his hand; the guard paused. “It’s of no matter. This was my fault.” He held out his arm for Ellie to grasp.

She cocked her head at the movement.

“Honest, I won’t bite you.”

A silent yet followed his words. She shivered.

“Allow me to buy you a new one.” The big man pointed to the smashed pumpkin, which the guard was sweeping out of the Citadel. The orange goop landed with a wet thwack on the forest floor.

Ellie shifted from foot to foot. He didn’t need to pay for one. Besides, the best pumpkins grew wild at the edge of the forest, in the field with the new shack. She shook her head. “No thanks.”

She turned her back to the pair and sauntered into the woods again, intent on picking another pumpkin, lighter this time. She stretched her arms. Definitely lighter this time.

“Where are you going?” The stranger matched her pace.

Ellie peered up at him from under her lashes. “To get another pumpkin.”

“Allow me to help.” He sounded sincere.

She took in his tailored tunic, tight breeches, and massive leather belt. He didn’t look like an ax murderer intent on kidnapping her. But she wasn’t keen on taking chances.

“Only if you’re headed this way.”

His jaw flexed. An emotion akin to hunger lit his eyes. Her thighs clenched and Ellie forced herself to put one foot in front of the other.

Rain began to splatter through the trees. She tugged her hood over her hair. They walked through the forest in companionable silence. The pitter-patter of water droplets mingled with the chirping of birds. Ellie relaxed.

“What brings you through this way?” he asked.

Ellie found she preferred the silence. “Pumpkins.”

“You don’t trust me, do you?”

“Brilliant observation,” Ellie grumbled, grateful to reach the abandoned field. The rain lessened, now a fine mist. She picked her way through the thick mud. The muck tugged at the hem of her dirty cloak.

Ellie lifted the edges of the wool and took a wide step, eager to get rid of this giant of a man. He distracted her, stayed in her thoughts when she should focus on earning money and keeping the manor standing. He made her feel—she shuddered—dainty. She very much wanted to be around him, which meant she needed to avoid him. At all costs.

But the more she shot barbs his direction, the more he clung to her. Unusual man. The rain didn’t bother him, and he hummed an unfamiliar tune as they moved through the field.

The mud sucked her boot deep.

Ellie was stuck. She yanked at her foot but the muck squelched and refused to release her. Trapped. With him. Her stomach clenched.

“Settle.” He reached under her loose cloak and pressed his warm hands against her waist. The feel of his hold on her lower ribs surprised her, enticed her. Heat raced along her skin and intensified that ache between her legs. “You’ll upset your balance, let me help.”

With one firm tug, he lifted her from the ground and deposited her at the edge of the pumpkin patch. He didn’t groan at her weight. Fruitcake, she refused to be impressed by his burly strength.

He released her.

Blood rushed in her ears and drowned out the soft fall of rain. Ellie cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, milady.” He gifted her another one of those deep bows.

His drenched blond-brown hair was tossed in wild disarray, giving him a disheveled look. Her knees quaked. She had always loved strength, and she’d never met anyone with so much muscle.

“My name’s Ellie.” The words blurted from her mouth before she could think.

He held out his hand in greeting.

Gingerly, she placed her fingers in his own.

“Lovely to meet you, Lady Ellie. The name’s Gerard.” They stood like that for a few seconds, his eyes expectant.