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Scene from THE COVERING ("I'm hot blooded.")

Gunnar doesn’t think he’s worth saving – if there is such a thing. He doesn’t want anything from a God who failed him so bad in the past. Tessa is determined to keep him alive. But how much can she do when he refuses to be helped?

Then she looked up and her heart stuttered.

A black ‘67 Pontiac GTO was parked at the curb. Tessa recognized it from a poster Dominic used to have when they were kids. But that one hadn’t had Gunnar leaning on the fender. This one did, looking ornery as usual.

He wore blue jeans and a white T‐shirt under an open button‐up shirt with no jacket. She shivered when closer examination revealed he was soaked to the skin. Through the wet material she could make out part of the tattoo on his torso.

She would be lying to say he hadn’t come to mind since his departure four days ago. Gunnar Mason was a tough man to erase from the memory banks, and only in part because of his lawless appearance and less than adequate social skills.

But also because even when his clothes weren’t molded to his exceptional body as they were presently, he was frankly the most striking man she knew. She doubted many people would agree. Society as a whole held somewhat inflexible concepts of beauty. She had too, until she’d met him.

Still, what most affected her was the memory of his arms around her. Though brief, it had kindled an expectancy in her that she could summon with little effort. It was better ignored.

Staring at his body really wasn’t helping so she focused on the way he looked standing there, reluctant but perturbed, like a rebellious school boy in front of the principal’s desk.

Her amused chuckle earned her an irate glare.

“Something funny?”

It may have been Connie’s joy rubbing off on her or the blue peeking through the dreary sky or just the pleasure of hearing his voice, however gruff, but her mood was the brightest it had been all week. She walked toward him, despite his staring in that guarded way that made her think he might tackle her to the sidewalk if she moved too fast.

“Aren’t you cold?” Tessa stuffed the piece of clock into the pocket of her slicker.

“I’m hot blooded.”

No doubt.

He wore the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, revealing powerful forearms shaded by dark hairs. A closer look at his face revealed the shadows under his eyes.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked.

“Wish I could tell you.”

It was a strange answer even for him. When he didn’t elaborate she kicked a small rock into the grass.

“Do you want to come inside? It’s a good day for tea.”

When Gunnar pushed off the car and walked past her up the path, Tessa rolled her eyes at his back. She didn’t know what to make of him. Or herself for that matter. The “bad boy” type didn’t usually attract her, but she could hardly deny his allure.