The details didn’t matter.

The reality was that she had never-ever-fallen for a good guy. The flaw was in her, not them. She had some kind of chemistry surge near bad boys. The difference between when she was seventeen and now, though, was that she faced her problems. No more ducking or denial.

Which meant that when and if she liked the looks of a guy, that was it-she shut the barn door and padlocked it.

Right now, though, she couldn’t be worried less about falling for Mr. Adorable. She was focused on one goal and one goal only-which was to pull the big guy into the living room before she collapsed from 1) a broken back, 2) exhaustion, 3) starvation, or 4) all of the above. My God, he was heavy. Sweat prickled the back of her neck. She pulled with all her might, groaning to give herself extra strength, and still only managed to drag him a few more inches.

Jean-Luc, her ex, had less character than a boa constrictor. But at least he’d been relatively light. Even when he’d been three sheets to the wind-or high-he’d usually been able to at least help her move him around. This guy…

When she glanced down at him again, the guy in question not only seemed to be conscious, but was staring with fascination at her face. “Not that I mind being carried…but wouldn’t it be easier for me to get up and walk?” he asked.

She couldn’t kill him. No matter how mad she was, you just couldn’t murder a man who was already hurt. But an hour later she was still ticked off.

That was also the soonest she could find time to close the door on the kitchen and call the sheriff to make another report.