Brock folded his arms across his chest as he leaned against the counter. “So, you cook?”

Mallory laughed. “Do I look like I cook?”

He smirked. “So, do you want me to lie or tell you the truth?”

“Hey....” Mallory nodded toward the cabinets. “Instead of insulting me, why don’t you look through the cabinets and see if you can find a can opener.”

He pulled one out from behind his back. “You mean this?”

She scoffed. “Give that to me.”

But he held it up high over her head, teasing her as she tried to jump for it. She fell on him, nearly knocking him over, when he caught her.

Mallory pulled back abruptly, scowling. “Then open it yourself.” She stormed back into the living room in a huff.

“Oh, come on,” he said, following her out. “I was just teasing you.”

“Go away!” she yelled.

Feeling groggy, she curled back up on the sofa just as her stomach growled. Here she was going back home to see her sister and to help her with the baby, but now she was stuck out in the middle of nowhere without a car and without a phone... and Christmas was just a few weeks away.

But for now, her head was hurting, and she needed rest. She curled up on the couch, brought the blanket to her chin, and closed her eyes, willing this day and her headache to stop.

“I’m sorry,” Brock’s deep, baritone voice resonated throughout the quiet room. “I was just playing. I meant no harm.”

Mallory sat up, but swayed a bit, having sat up too quickly. “Just because I’m an actress doesn’t mean I’m an easy target.” She rolled over, putting her back to him. If he were going to kill her, he would have already done it. “Stay away from me,” she said, her voice muffled by the couch.

“Look....” he said, his hand touching her shoulder.

Mallory jumped up so fast that her head spun again. “Stay away from me!” She was suddenly rethinking the he-would-have-already-killed-her theory.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, fine! I was trying to be nice just now.” He let out a deep breath. “Trying to apologize. I was only joking around in the kitchen, but like typical Hollywood actresses—”

“What?” Mallory cut him off. “You’re judging me just because I’m an actress?”

“No,” he corrected. “I’m judging you because you’re being ridiculous.” He turned on his heel and walked back into the kitchen. He slammed around some pots and pans and came out a few minutes later with a pot covered with a lid and set it in the fire.

Mallory raised up. “Aren’t you afraid the pan will burn, setting it directly in the fire like that?”

“Nope!” Brock smiled happily. “I soaped the bottom of the pan first.”

Mallory peered toward the fire. “How did you learn that?”

“As a Navy SEAL, I learned a lot about survival.” He shrugged as his lips curled into a sexy smile. “But I learned that in Boy Scouts.”

Mallory chuckled. “You were in Boy Scouts?”

His expression suddenly turned serious. “Yes. Why? Does that surprise you?”

Mallory sat up, still a bit lightheaded. “Well, it’s just that you’re a big and bad Navy SEAL. I never thought you’d be in Boy Scouts.”

Brock raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re judging me because I’m a SEAL?”

Mallory scoffed. “Touché.”

Brock crossed the room and stirred what was in the pot. “People are not always what they seem. There’s good and bad in everyone.”

Mallory nodded. “So, you said that you were stationed in San Diego a few years ago. Where were you before that?”

“Afghanistan.” Brock turned his attention back to the contents of the pot.

Mallory nodded. “So, did you see any action?”

He stood, his expression serious. “Let’s talk about something else.”

She tilted her head to the side, trying to figure him out. “Do you have any family?”

He shook his head. “A bother and a sister, but we’re not close.” He raised an eyebrow. “You?”

Mallory sighed. “Just my sister. My parents died a while back.”

“Sorry about that.” Brock closed the lid on the pot and headed back to the love seat. “How are you feeling?”

“My head still hurts and I feel groggy, but I’m feeling better.” She turned her attention back to the fire, watching the tongues of orange, red, and yellow lap hungrily at the pot. Then she looked back at Brock, raising her eyebrows. “You said my car blew up?”

He nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Yes. When I saw you in the car, barely conscious, and saw the gas pouring from under the car, I knew you only had minutes, if that.” He sighed, turning his attention toward the fire. “I wasn’t going to, but on a whim, I went back for your purse, and your suitcase was behind the seat, so I grabbed that, too.”

She scoffed. “You mean to tell me that you weren’t going to get my suitcase or my purse?”

Brock stood, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.” Then he walked away.

“What?” Mallory asked, following him into the kitchen.

He turned to face her, leaning against the counter. “Here I just told you that I saved your life, and that I did save your purse and your suitcase, and the only thing you took away from that was that I wasn’t going to go back for your purse and suitcase at first.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Unbelievable.” He started toward the pantry again, but she stopped him, grabbing his arm.

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking into his eyes. “I guess I’ve never been very good with people.”

He laughed. “Well, try thinking of other people first and not always yourself, and maybe you’ll be better... with people.”

“Thinking of myself?” Mallory screeched, hurting her head. “Ow!” She raised a hand to her head. “You just called me selfish!”

“Yes, I did.” He folded his arms across his chest, wearing a self-satisfied smirk.

“You don’t even know me!” She looked in the pantry and pulled out a can of fruit.

“I know enough.” Brock headed back into the living room and she heard him clanking the pan in the fireplace.

“Unbelievable,” she mumbled to herself as she opened the pears.

“I heard that!” he yelled from the other room.

“Leave me alone!” she yelled back, hurting her head again. As she poured the pears into a bowl, she couldn’t wait until her time with this insufferable man was over.