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    Summary

    When they emerged from behind the van, a crossbow was pointed at Dean’s face.

    He grinned and said with no small amount of sarcasm, “Heard you could shoot a squirrel through the eye every time?”

    Daryl glared at him. “Sure as hell can shoot ya from here.”

    “You sure could,” Dean said as he examined the other man.

    He had on thick canvas trousers and a flannel shirt with ripped off sleeves. A leather vest settled over his broad chest. Dean couldn’t help but notice how thick his arms were. His dirty blonde hair was wet with sweat and grime. His eyes were sharp, fluttering between Dean and Sophia, judging him, and measuring the distance between them. His arm didn’t waver no matter how long he held up the heavy crossbow.

    For the first time in a long time, Dean felt the stirring of attraction.

    Series
    Language:
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