Micah couldn't identify the source, but someone inside the Rusty Bucket was afraid of something. The usual Saturday night crowd filled the place, along with a face or two he didn't recognize. As he glanced around, he saw nothing to explain the fear.

His gaze kept returning to one spot, but it had nothing to do with what he smelled. He couldn't take his eyes off the redhead sitting two tables over who laughed at something her companion said. Micah watched her face, wondering at the level of connection between her and the man. Was she interested? Already attached?

Kane's voice brought him back to his own table. "Are you going to follow through this time?"

"What are you talking about?"

His friend tipped his head in the girl's direction.

"Follow through on what? I was only looking." Micah took a swig of his beer and let the bottle hang loosely in his grip.

Enya laughed and snuggled closer to Kane. "Hey, even I recognize that spark. It never hurts to ask her."

He wasn't looking for a new woman, but the tug he felt toward her couldn't be denied. Enya was right. Talk to the girl, confirm she wasn't for him, and let it go.

Micah tried not to look again, but he saw the young woman stand and reach for her purse. Her friend was already gone. When she turned toward the exit, Micah stood. "I'll be back."

He shut out whatever smartass remarks his friends offered and focused on the wavy red hair weaving through the packed crowd. She reached the door only a moment before he did.

Outside, he saw her at the end of the building talking to two men who looked a bit unsteady on their feet, their backs to him. He waited and watched. The scent of fear drifted on the breeze and he now knew its source.

Instinct had him on edge from the smell, and it took effort to keep the inner wolf quiet.

One of the men raised his voice and grabbed her arm. She tried to jerk away.

Micah walked silently toward them, staying close to the building. The lights in the parking lot were no match for the cloudy, moonless Ozark night, but he could easily have been seen if they happened to look.

"Billy, knock it off," the woman said.

"Yeah," added one of the men. "Let's just take her home like she wants."

Billy, still holding tightly to her upper arm, slurred his reply. "I just asked for a kiss before we get in the car. What's wrong with that?"

The woman told him. "You're drunk. And I'm not interested. Does either of those work for you?" She jerked her arm again to no avail.

Billy tugged her close and Micah had seen enough. He reached out and grabbed the collar of Billy's t-shirt, yanking him away. The woman staggered a moment but didn't fall.

Spinning with surprising dexterity, Billy turned and blindly threw a punch. Micah caught the fist, twisted, and shoved the guy against the building. The buddy yelled and charged, taking Micah to the ground.

They rolled in the gravel, each clinging to the other man's shoulders, aiming for the neck. With a move ingrained in his being during basic training, Micah broke free and landed a punch to the man's temple. The guy went limp.

Shit. Never knocked a guy cold before.

His EMT training rose into action and he checked the man's pulse. Steady and strong. Then he looked at Billy who lay slumped against the wall. Rolling to his feet, Micah turned the man to lie on the ground so the blood flow to his brain wouldn't be cut off.

As he straightened, he ran his hands over the sides of his military-short hair and wiped away the sweat. The air reeked of fear, and its source was obvious.

The redhead stood, wide-eyed, tense, waiting to see what he would do. The reek of her fear was almost palpable. Micah placed his hands on his hips and asked, "Are you okay?"

She blinked. "What are you doing? You could have killed them!"

Micah's jaw loosened but he tried not to show his shock. "He was pawing at you. You said no. End of story."

"I could have handled it. Billy always acts like that when he's drunk. Now how am I supposed to get home?" She folded her arms and stomped her foot in a princess-like move. So much for first impressions.

"I'll give you a ride."

Her laugh was like a slap on his face. "Like I'm going to get in the car with a stranger who just beat up two of my friends? Get real." She stepped back, pulled a cell phone from her tiny purse and flipped it open.

Micah reached for his wallet as she thumbed through files on her phone. He took out his work ID, his Christian County first responder ID and his driver's license. "Here. They've done the background check already. And so did the U.S. Government when I enlisted. If that's not good enough for you, go back inside the Bucket and look for a little-bitty thing with long black hair and a giant-sized man on her arm. They'll vouch for me, too."

She glanced at the cards in his hand but didn't move to take them. He wondered why he was bothering, why he didn't just let her call a friend. He had no iron in this fire.

The breeze stirred again, whispering past, bringing a new scent.

Arousal.

She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Now that he stood close, he recognized a familiar scent, one he couldn't place. Like family. Walking into his grandma's house. It was a fragrance he should know, but it emanated from a stranger.

Her thumb had stopped sliding on the phone but she hadn't lifted it to her ear. She seemed frozen in indecision.

"You don't have to accept my ride. But if you're going to wait for a friend, come on back inside." He stepped to the side and waited.

Her arm dropped slightly. Then she flipped the phone closed and met his gaze. "I live in Springfield. It's more than half an hour from here."

Micah shrugged. "I've got a full tank."

Still she hesitated, and then lifted her purse strap back on her shoulder. "Okay."

The urge to howl burst inside of him but he swallowed it down. She'd accepted a ride, not a lifetime promise. Why did he feel like this was the beginning of a new chapter in his life?

His eyes danced in the overhead light inside the cab. What an odd shade. Golden brown. It gave him a feral look. When he smiled, her gaze was immediately drawn to his teeth. Specifically, the canines. She was surprised a dentist hadn't filed them down at some point over the years. Their length was striking.

"I'm Micah. Micah Salway."

He lifted himself onto the bench seat and she realized she was still sitting in the middle. She began to scoot farther, but he stopped her.

"The far seatbelt is broken. You'll have to sit in the middle."

She glanced at the belt dangling at the door, then back at him. "Convenient, isn't it? Is this something all you small-town guys try?"

He just shrugged and closed the door, shutting off the light.

His presence beside her grew in the dark, as if he swelled to fill half the space. The warmth of his leg burned into her awareness. She shifted, putting both her feet demurely on the right of the floor hump. This was going to be a long half hour.

Though she could see he sat straight and was focused on the road, the soft sound of his voice startled her with its closeness, as if he spoke in her ear. "So, are you from California?"

"God, do I have an accent? Is it that obvious?"

"You said you live half an hour from here. Locals would have given it to me in miles, either road miles or as the crow flies," he said.

"Yeah, I've noticed that." She also noticed her skin had begun to tingle, as if she lay on a tanning bed. A strange energy coursed over her. Forcing herself to turn her head away, she watched traffic go past out the passenger window. That took his thigh out of her peripheral vision and kept her from reaching out to see if it was as muscled as it looked.

Why hadn't she just called Sissy for a ride? Yes, she would have been pissed off and given her the "I told you so" lecture all the way home, but even that was better than the torture of the nearness of this man beside her.

"You don't talk much," he commented.

"What? Oh. Distracted, I guess." She glanced at him just as the light from a passing truck lit his face. Shadows brought out the angles but made him no less good looking with his strong, high cheekbones.

Why couldn't she have met him under normal circumstances? Giving in to the damsel in distress game put her at a disadvantage. If they were going to get to know each other, it had to be on her terms.

Before she could decide what her terms were, they came to a stop at her apartment building. He shut off the engine and climbed out, holding the door for her to follow.

Her hand rested on the warmth where he had sat and she shivered. What was wrong with her? She acted as if she'd never been this close to a man before, which was far from the truth. Farther than she liked to admit sometimes.

Stephanie slid off the seat, coming face to face with Micah. Face to chest, she realized. He was tall. And broad. She exhaled, the sound too close to a sigh. Her gaze traveled up the front of his flannel shirt and locked on his.

In the darkness she couldn't see just what color his eyes were, if they were truly golden brown. What she could see told her they were turned up at the corners, laughing at her.

For some reason that made her smile. Gave her the courage to take control. "Thanks for the ride."

Instead of moving past him, she rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his. She meant it to be brief, a tease, but she couldn't pull back. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. His warm palms pressed against her butt. Parting her lips, she brushed her tongue against his and almost melted at his moan.

Her entire body vibrated now as her hunger grew. She strained higher on her toes needing more, needing…what?

His hands slid up her back, burning his claim as his mouth had when he kissed down her neck. She was certain people would look at her and know she'd been claimed, just from his kiss.

She needed to stop. To end this before it went too far. Before she was unable to walk away.

As if he heard, he drew back, gently kissing her one last time. She opened her eyes and looked into his, not stepping away. "So, maybe sometime we could try again without the drunk friend part?"

He smiled. His teeth looked even larger this close up. "I'd like that."

Stephanie dug in the side pocket of her purse and pulled out her business card, holding it out to him. "Give me a call."

One last time she stretched up and kissed him, then bit back a giggle as she walked toward her door. She fought the urge to turn back and see if he watched her.

As she closed and locked her door behind her, she heard his truck fire up and she let the laughter out. Why did she feel so giddy? Like she'd graduated to the next level in life. She wanted to lift her head and call out into the night.

Her smile still wide as she dropped her purse on the small table by the door, she glanced in the mirror on the wall. Leaning in close, she looked at her teeth. Now her imagination was laughing at her, making her think the canines looked longer.

Brushing her hair off her face, she met her reflection in the eye. And gasped. Her eyes were the same golden brown as Micah's.