“No,” she managed. “Not sex.”
“How about this?” He ran his strong hand up and down her thigh, from her knee to the juncture with her hip. At the same time, he set the flat of his tongue against the sensitive skin just behind the point of her jaw.
She bit back a moan. “Not quite.”
“All right then. Good to know I’m safely in the no-sex zone.” As he spoke, he pressed kisses along the flesh of her neck, all the way to her collarbone. He pushed aside the fabric of her jacket to bare her shoulder and continue his kissing. When the jacket got in his way, he moved his other hand to her zipper and slowly slid it down. Not all the way, just enough to expose her shoulder. In the process, he brushed against the tip of her breast. Intentional or not, that brief touch sizzled across her nerve endings.
She shifted restlessly against him. If this was the no-sex zone, it was both amazing and maddening at the same time. She pressed her butt back, searching for that press of flesh. Yup, there it was. Even bigger now, more prominent. More tempting.
She shifted forward to give herself some space and slid her hand behind her back to touch his bulge.
He hissed a breath through his teeth. “Hey now.”
“That’s not sex, is it? I’m not even touching your penis.”
The organ in question jumped as she mentioned it.
“That’s true.” He spoke in a strangled voice. “Sort of. Ahhh.” A groan as she pressed the heel of her hand against him. “Fuck, Jessica. We’re in the middle of the woods and—gr-ah-mmm-hmm.” His words collapsed into an inarticulate mumble as she continued to caress him.
The satisfaction of seeing him so affected was practically orgasmic in and of itself. She felt quite proud of herself for finding a way to get all his so-called logic out of his head.
Until he turned the tables on her and snuck his hand between her legs. With her own arousal already in a state of high tension, she had no defense against that touch. She let out a whimper as her legs fell open. Still completely clothed, of course.
Still not sex.
Just mind-melting, pleasure-center-exploding, nerve-tingling mutual stimulation. That was all.
She certainly didn’t need to ask her crystal about that, and she had no intention of checking in with her own better judgment. Screw that. If she followed that bitch, she wouldn’t be experiencing this exquisitely delicious moment with the wildly intriguing Ethan James.
She tilted her pelvis to get more contact with his hand. Even through her clothes, she felt its strength and skill. No messing around searching for the right spot. He clamped his hand right where it felt best—or close, anyway. She ground her groin against it to guide him to the exact location where her craving was centered. He adjusted immediately, which was a hundred times better than guessing right the first time.
Ethan was an investigator, after all, someone who believed in exploring possibilities. He sure was a good explorer, judging by the way he fingered her mound through her clothes—stroking, testing, adjusting.
His mouth came back to her neck. The way he licked and suckled had her twisting against him. Her nipples tingled even though his flesh wasn’t even touching hers. It was like some kind of secondhand arousal stoked by his lips on her neck, his hand between her legs.
Then it all stopped. She was left on the edge of a precipice, gasping for air. He put his hand over her mouth and whispered, “Shh. I hear something.”
She went still and held her breath. A few endless moments later, quiet footfalls sounded on the trail. Neither of them moved a muscle as the slow, deliberate footsteps passed by their location.
Someone was walking right past them. The hemlock tree did a great job of hiding them, but it also kept her from seeing what was going on out there.
What if it was someone who could help them?
She pulled Ethan’s head down to whisper as much in his ear. He shook his head but didn’t speak out loud. Smart—his voice had a much higher chance of carrying.
They waited until they couldn’t hear any trace of those footfalls. Then he finally spoke.
“I think we should get out of here.”
“Why? He didn’t see us here. It’s a great hiding place.”
“It’s a trail he uses often.”
“How do you know that?”
Chapter Nineteen
How could he explain something that was so obvious to him?
“It was the way he walked. It was definitely a man by the length of his stride. He wasn’t paying close attention to his steps, the way you would if it was unfamiliar territory. That’s why he didn’t notice that we’d been through here. I’m sure we left some traces behind us.”
Jessica blinked at the roughness of his tone. He knew that his irritation stemmed from being ruthlessly booted out of a near-sex experience. With her lips still parted and her cheeks rosy from arousal, he wanted to throw her down right there on the forest floor. Not even a bit of bark in her disheveled hair or the smudge of sap on her cheek took away from her appeal.
Sexual frustration could really mess with your mood.
“But isn’t that a good thing?” she asked. “He didn’t notice us and now we’re safe.”
“But we can’t continue down this trail. We don’t know how far he’s going. We don’t know when he’ll be headed back this way.”
“But if we follow him, maybe we’ll find out why he’s shooting up planes—if he’s the one who did.”
He’d already considered that option and rejected it. “We have no cell service. We have one weapon between the two of us and no idea how many people we’re dealing with. This is a job for law enforcement. We’re here for S.G., that’s all.”
“But what if this is connected to her somehow?”
“Then we walk away and let Maya handle this. Remember the parameters we set? I make the call if things are getting too dangerous? I’m making it. We’re not going after that guy.”
She nodded, crestfallen. “You’re right. I didn’t think about all that.”
“Let’s look at the map and find some other options.”
It was so dark by now that they had to use a headlamp to scan the laminated map. She kept it on the dimmest setting possible. He noticed that his mug of hot chocolate had gotten knocked over. He cursed inwardly at how careless they’d been. The smell of hot cocoa could easily have given them away. Either that man out there didn’t have a good sense of smell or the wind had been blowing in their favor; under the hemlock it was hard to tell.
“There.” Jessica pointed to a meandering line near their location. “I bet no one uses that one because it’s a pain in the ass.”
“Why?” Just what he needed, a more difficult trail.
“Very steep, lots of switchbacks. It’s not maintained by the Forest Service or any of the volunteer groups, as far as I can tell. It might not even exist anymore. This map is a few years old.”
He gazed at the map in the low light. “Well. I’m game. At least it heads in a completely different direction.”
“And we can still reach Aurora Lodge, it’ll just take longer.”
His leg twinged at the thought of even more hiking. He rubbed out the cramp before it got too tight. “No problem here.”
She didn’t argue, which he appreciated. He’d do whatever he had to do.
They quietly packed everything back up. Just in case, he took out his gun and went first. When he saw that it was clear, he gestured to Jessica. The underbranches grabbed at her hair as she crawled out. Once she was free of the hemlock, she brushed forest debris off her clothes. He helped by picking the biggest twigs from her hair; really it was just an excuse to touch her again.
“By the way,” he said softly. “About before, I have just three words to say.”
She glanced up, eyebrows lifting. “What?”
“To be continued.”
With a sassy smile, she picked up her backpack. “We’ll see. I might have to check with my crystal first.”
More hiking.
More throbbing in his leg. More silent words of encouragement—let’s go, buddy.
More watching Jessica’s rounded ass three feet ahead of him.
As darkness settled into the forest, they had to slow their pace. But neither one suggested stopping. They located the abandoned trail only with the help of Jessica’s GPS. Otherwise they never would have known it existed. Once they were on it, things got a little easier.
It occurred to him that maybe someone had deliberately left the entrance overgrown to hide it.
“Jessica,” he hissed. She stopped so abruptly that he bumped into her. He steadied her with one hand, while enjoying the sweet thrill that went along with touching her. “Do you see any sign that this trail’s been used?”
“I can barely see the trail itself,” she whispered. “But I don’t think so. It feels very lush and overgrown. These alders can take over very quickly if you don’t cut them back.”
“Okay. Just checking. I want to make sure we’re not walking into a trap.”
“Like a bear trap? No one uses those anymore.”
“No. Just—“ He shook his head, amused by her innocence when it came to evil-doers. “It’s all good. Let’s keep going.”
They forged ahead.
More prickly branches hitting him in the face. More night mosquitoes whining in his ear. More aching deep in his scarred tibia.
He couldn’t go too much longer, he knew. His body wouldn’t let him. As much as he wanted to be invulnerable and immune to pain, he knew better.
“I’m gonna have to stop soon.” He said it quietly, an admission that went very much against the grain. But they had more hiking ahead the next day, and the next, and he didn’t want to injure himself.
She glanced behind her. “I’m more than ready. Do you think it’s safe?”
“Not sure I care at this point,” he said lightly, making a joke of it.
But from her expression, she knew perfectly well he wasn’t joking.
“These alders aren’t very good shelter. I think I see some taller trees up ahead. Can you make it another quarter mile or so?”
“Of course,” he gritted. “Lead on.”
He limped after her. He hadn’t worked his leg this hard in a long time, and he was paying for that. Too many stakeouts. Too many hours at the computer doing research. Meanwhile, Jessica still moved with the same easy stride, though clearly just as tired as he was.
They grew them tough here in Alaska.
Ethan doesn’t think I’m tough, he remembered her saying. The joke was on him.
A grouping of spruce trees loomed up ahead. “Almost there.”
He laughed grimly. “You make it sound like we’re about to reach our hotel. Like they’re holding a room for us.”
“Welcome to Chez Spruce,” she joked. “Your home away from home in the wilderness. Come on in and rest your head on a pillow of spruce needles. Awaken to the weird and creepy sound of branches in the wind.”
He smiled at her effort to distract him from how fricking fatigued he was. Sweet of her. She was a good wilderness guide, the perfect companion on this wild adventure.
Veering right, she ducked under the arching branch of a bush that blocked the path to the spruce trees. He followed suit, using his arm to shield his face from the wet leaves.
He was still blinking raindrops out of his eyes when he emerged from the bushes into a clearing.
“Holy guacamole,” Jessica breathed. She was staring at a structure tucked under the spruce trees. It was barely visible in the not-quite-dark Alaska night. It seemed to be abandoned. Tall grass and clover grew thick around it.
“It’s not Chez Spruce. It’s Chez Spruce Grouse,” she said.
“We don’t know that.”
“I know. I just thought it was funny that I’d just made that joke about Chez Spruce, and now… Come on, let’s check it out.”
“No.” He grabbed her arm before she could take off across the clearing. “Someone could be in there. Possibly armed.”
“No one’s been in there for ages. It’s falling apart.”
“Please. Let’s just watch it for a while. Just to be safe. Barging into a suspicious building in the middle of the night is—“
“Against one of your investigation rules?”
“Horror movie 101, I was going to say.”
She laughed and allowed him to tug her behind a boulder that sat near the edge of the clearing. From here, they could peek around the boulder to check on the cabin, but remain out of sight.
He hoped.
Jessica spread out a ground cloth for them to sit on. Seriously, if he had to pick someone to get lost in the wilderness with, he couldn’t choose better than her.
“You know this fits every single bit of description S.G. gave Maya about the cabin,” she whispered as she plopped her butt down on the cloth. “Homemade log cabin. Rotting roof. Hidden in the forest. Doesn’t it look like the drawing S.G. made?”
He lowered himself next to her, keeping his aching leg stretched out. “It’s hard to tell, it’s too dark. And that description probably fits most of the old cabins in this wilderness.”
“You’re such a pessimist.”
“To an optimist, everyone looks like a pessimist. Even a realist.”
“Oh, whatever. We can wait.” She set her backpack between the boulder and her back and leaned against it. He did the same. They propped each other up, shoulder to shoulder.
“You should sleep,” she whispered. “I’ll keep watch.”
“No way.”
“Yes. You need some rest. I can tell. You’re very grumpy.”
He laughed silently, but he couldn’t disagree. “That’s not what’s making me grumpy.”
“What is?”
“The fact that I was so close to making you come,” he growled in her ear. “We got interrupted right when it was getting good.”
Muffled laughter from her direction. “Same, city boy. Same. Now hand me that gun you keep fondling and close your eyes. I got this.”
He must have slept longer than the fifteen minutes he’d planned. Because when he woke up the color of the sky had shifted from stormy charcoal to fog gray. His eyes dragged open. They felt gritty, as if he’d slept on a sandy beach instead of a boggy clearing.
Jessica was snoring softly next to him. His gun, still safely in its holster, was tucked under her backpack.
He smiled wryly. So much for keeping watch. He wasn’t too worried about it, though. If anyone had come anywhere close to them, he would have woken up. She’d probably spent a couple of hours watching an empty house, needed some sleep, and decided that it wasn’t worth waking him up to take over.
Good call.
He rolled his neck, feeling the inevitable cracks and pops from an uncomfortable night. Jessica stirred. He went still, hoping he hadn’t woken her up, but it was too late.
Her eyelashes slowly lifted. She blinked at him with sleepy dark-gold eyes. “Is it morning?”
“I don’t know what time it is, but the light’s changing.”
They both spoke in hushed tones. Solemn mist drifted through the clearing. Moisture clung to every spruce needle and tall blade of grass. No wind disturbed this spot, but that didn’t make it peaceful. Instead, it felt heavy.
“Sorry I fell asleep,” she whispered.
“It’s okay. We both needed it.” He shifted so he could look around the boulder at the cabin. “Looks the same as it did last night, except rattier.”
“Literally nothing happened while I was watching. The biggest excitement was when a mosquito landed on my nose. It was bigger than a hummingbird.”
“Sorry it was boring, but that’s good news. Should we go check it out?”
She nodded eagerly. “I just have a feeling this is it. Now that it’s getting lighter outside, it looks exactly like S.G.’s drawing. Even down to the crooked door.”
He had to agree. Adrenaline trickled through his veins the same way it did when he was close to cracking a case.
>
A finger of sunlight brightened the eastern end of thick spruce grove.
“Look, the sun’s coming out,” he whispered.
“First light.” Awe softened her voice.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we live another day.”
He smiled at that. With his history, another day was always a bonus.
The sunbeam lengthened until it touched the cabin, bathing it in gold. Even with its tumbledown appearance, its windows glowed with reflected light.
“Ready?” he murmured.
But just as they were about to emerge from behind the boulder, the front door flung open. A figure stood in the doorway.
Chapter Twenty
“Get back!”
Ethan’s hiss made her stumble back behind the boulder. She nearly tripped over her backpack but he caught her before she could make a sound. He snatched up his holster and drew out his weapon.
Perfectly still, barely breathing, they watched the dark figure step forward and resolve into a person standing in the sunlight. A man, she saw. Not at all the type of man she would have expected to run into out here.
He was very well-groomed, first of all. The general “mountain man” look involved lots of unkempt facial hair and clothes that rarely saw a washing machine. Then there were the wilderness scientist types who wore expensive Patagonia rain pants and fleece vests.
This man didn’t fit either of those categories. He wore an Irish cable-knit sweater and ribbed corduroy trousers. His beard was trimmed, his hair only an overnight degree of mussed, as opposed to uncombed for the last week.
He was maybe in his late thirties and really quite attractive.
She stole a glance at Ethan, who was also studying him closely.
“Armed?” she breathed.
He shook his head. “Don’t think so. Stay here.”
“What?”
But before she could object, he stepped forward into the clearing, gun aimed at the man. “Don’t move,” he called. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”
Love at First Light (Lost Harbor, Alaska Book 6) Page 15
