Page 8 of Captivating Anika

Hog is a conundrum to me in every sense of the word.

The man is huge, looks like he could seriously hurt someone, but he’s the calmest and most even-tempered individual I know. In fact, I’d go so far as to call him unflappable, and believe me, I’ve tried to shake him up a time or two.

Then there are times when I don’t know how to read him. Like when he suddenly dropped off the face of the earth after helping my brother and some of the other guys with the work on my house last year. It left me feeling like I lost a good friend. I saw him almost every day and then suddenly he stopped coming. In fact, until he walked in here yesterday, I hadn’t seen him in a long time.

Then he surprised me this morning when he showed up again and jumped between me and that asshole, showing more aggression than I’ve ever seen from him. I was handling the guy just fine, but I have to admit it was kind of sexy when Hog took him down in two seconds flat.

But now—not fifteen minutes later—he’s meek as a lamb again, and it’s starting to piss me off. I can’t get a bead on him, and the fact that has an impact on me annoys me even more.

“Ouch.”

He winces when I’m not as gentle as I could be.

“Sorry.”

“You’re good,” he rumbles.

I glance away from his injury and catch his eyes closely observing me.

“What?”

He folds his big hands around mine and pulls them away from his face.

I don’t think I ever noticed his eyes are multicolored. I knew they were a gray-blue, but with my face this close to his, I can even see flecks of brown. He has these lines that fan out from the corners of his eyes and sometimes when they show up, it’s the only sign he’s smiling.

I can see them clearly now.

“It’s fine, Anika.”

I can feel his breath on my skin and shoot upright, pulling my hands from his hold.

“I should put something on that,” I mutter, turning around to dig through the first aid kit.

“Better to let it air dry,” he suggests.

I hold my breath when he places his hands on my hips to move me aside as he gets to his feet.

“She’s in your office, isn’t she?”

A bucket of ice water couldn’t have been more effective in snapping me from wherever my mind went for a moment there. Kim is locked in my office and her bastard of a husband is outside in police custody.

Never mind I liked the feeling of Hog’s hands on me.

Jesus.

The soft chime alerting the front door opening draws attention away from my momentary state of fluster. Bill Evans walks in.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, glancing from Hog to me. “I have a few questions.”

I take a deep breath. “Happy to answer them, but you may want to talk to Kim Cooper first. She’s married to that asshole and is waiting in my office.”

I try not to look at Hog as I lead the way to the back, but hear Bill tell him to hang around to answer a few questions after.

Kim is on her phone when we walk in.

“Mom, I’ve gotta go. Yeah, I promise. I’ll let you know.”

She ends the call and shoves her phone in her pocket, wiping her palms nervously on the legs of her pants.