Series: Kristen Proby Crossover Collection
Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I looked up directions this morning before my breakfast with Nina.
Something just told me I should go and say hello.
And I usually listen to that something.
The sanctuary is out of town, in the middle of nowhere. Which makes sense because the animals are wild and they need plenty of space.
There’s a farmhouse across the pasture from the industrial buildings. And the sign over the driveway says Spread Your Wings.
This is the place.
I park and walk into an office area that’s currently deserted.
“I wonder if I should have called ahead,” I mutter out loud.
“Nah, there’s always someone bustling about.” I startle at the voice and turn to find Noah standing behind me with a grin. “Fallon, right?”
“Yeah.” I reach out to shake his hand and feel the warmth climb all the way up to my shoulder. His hand is callused and large, engulfing my small one. “And you’re Noah.”
“Guilty,” he says. “Did you come to check on your eagle?”
And to check you out.
“I did,” I say. “I know it probably seems weird, but—”
“Not weird at all. Follow me.”
We walk outside and down a long, paved sidewalk that meanders between several buildings.
“I wasn’t expecting it to be this big,” I say.
“That’s what she said,” he replies with a grin, and I can’t help but laugh out loud. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. We’ve grown a lot in the past few years, thanks to donations and grants. Most of these buildings back here, along with all the concrete sidewalks, are new.”
He leads me into a big building and down a row of cages, then stops and gestures.
“Well, hi there,” I croon. “How is he?”
“He has a broken wing,” Noah says and sighs. “We can’t tell what caused it. But I think that with about six weeks of healing time, he should be good to be released back into the wild.”
“Really? That’s amazing. What if he can’t live in the wild again?”
“He’ll stay here, with us, and we’ll use him for education. He’ll have a cushy life here, but I suspect he’ll be leaving us. He’s a healthy guy.”
We’re quiet as I watch the bird. He looks at me as if he recognizes me. There’s a splint on his wing.
“I’m so glad I found you,” I murmur.
“Me, too,” Noah says and smiles when I look over at him. “The bird, not me.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Most of my life, but I started the sanctuary eight years ago. I have a masters in zoology from Colorado State.”
“Wow. And you came back to Cunningham Falls?”
He grins, and I feel it in my gut. Goodness, Noah King has a great smile.
“I have roots here,” he says. “It’s home.”
I nod and look back at the eagle. “He’s gorgeous.”
“You can visit him anytime you like.”
I start to decline but reconsider. “You know, I just might do that.”
“Good.” He clears his throat. “I hate to do this in front of our feathered friend because I’ll be embarrassed if this goes badly, but can I interest you in dinner?”
I blink, taken off guard. “Tonight?”
“Anytime you like,” he replies with that easy smile. “Tonight. Tomorrow. Right now.”
“It’s not even noon.”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere.”
I laugh and look down at my feet, then shrug. “Sure. A girl has to eat, right?”
“Exactly. May I see your phone?”
I unlock it and hand it over, and he punches in some numbers.
“I just texted myself. If you text me with your address, I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“It’s a deal.”
I say goodbye to the eagle, and Noah escorts me back to my Jeep.
“I’ll see you tonight, Fallon.”
“See you.”
I drive away, the memory of Noah’s voice tickling my mind. The way he says my name is like a promise. Like he enjoys the sound of it on his tongue.
Fallon.
It’s not like me to accept a date invitation, but there’s something about Noah King that I like very much. What will one dinner hurt?
Chapter Two
~Noah~
Fallon intrigues me. I’ve seen her around town once or twice, and each time, I’ve stopped to get a good look at her. And when I saw her standing on that mountain, watching over the eagle, I knew I’d ask her out the next time I saw her.
She’s a pretty little thing, and I do mean little. She can’t be much more than five-foot-two, and her body is lean. Petite. Her dark hair is long, and today, she was wearing it down.
It’s the kind of hair a man wants to get his hands in, to hold on to.
And when she smiles, and her green eyes light up, well, it hits me right in the gut. I’ve been thinking about her all damn day.
I’m ready to spend some alone time with Fallon.
I park my truck in front of her little house and walk up the walkway to her porch, then ring the bell and shift back and forth on my feet, surprisingly nervous.