by Em Petrova
She shuddered at the fantasy going on in her head.
“Jenna?” His voice came out as a croak.
“I’m cold,” she lied. “Maybe we could both use some hot cocoa.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to suck them back. Cocoa? What she really wanted was Harris.
Some magical thread connecting the two of them seemed to snap. He nodded and sat up. “That sounds good,” he grated out in a roughened voice.
Staring at his back, she tried to summon the courage to plaster her body against his from behind, wrap her arms around that thick, muscled chest and drop her lips to his neck.
While rubbing on him.
She stifled a groan and climbed off the bed. She realized she stood bare-legged wearing only Harris’s shirt that stopped above her knees.
She darted to grab her pants, and Harris leaped up. Head down, he hurried from the room. She didn’t bother changing her shirt and instead tucked it into her uniform pants. When she walked out into the kitchen area, she found Harris at the fireplace, hand braced on the mantel and head bowed.
His despondent pose brought a gulp of worry to her throat.
Cocoa. Her momma always said there wasn’t anything a mug of hot cocoa wouldn’t fix. And luckily, she’d had the foresight to purchase some earlier for the cabin stores.
She hurried to the range. While preparing the cocoa, she threw looks over her shoulder at Harris. He didn’t move from his pose or look up.
When she tested the temperature of the cocoa, someone pounded the door. She jerked and nearly scalded herself on the hot pan.
Harris’s gaze landed on her as he rushed to the door on crutches. “Stay there,” he ordered and grasped the bolt of the door lock.
“Lip, open up!”
Harris whipped open the door, and Broshears entered. In a second, his gaze swept the room, skidded over her standing at the range and back up to look at her more closely.
The corner of his lips twitched as he most likely noticed her wearing Harris’s shirt.
“What the fuck do you want at this time of night? What’s going on?” Harris demanded, irritation woven through his words.
He followed the special operative’s stare to Jenna and positioned himself between them. “Broshears, what’s happening? You didn’t come here to wake us up.”
“You were already awake. Do I smell cocoa?”
She opened her mouth to offer him a mug, but Harris growled low in his throat.
“Did you guys find something new? We haven’t heard about any more explosions, but did something happen?”
“Calm down, Lip. Penn sent me to give you the latest move. Hep, Beckett and Gasper checked out an old trapper cabin and found something.”
Jenna abandoned her post at the range and drifted forward to the men. Broshears looked her over, and she knew a man who earned his living never missing a detail would notice her disheveled state and the fact she wore Harris’s shirt.
She also realized how the situation must appear to him.
“What was the discovery?” Harris asked, purposely not looking her direction.
“Bomb-making materials. Some fuses.”
“Any explosive material?”
“Not on site, no. If there is any, maybe buried in the woods around the cabin, we’ll find it. We’ve got a good canine team and a handler who knows more than enough to keep us on track.”
“Who is using the cabin?” he asked.
“It appears to be empty.”
“Sorry to interrupt, but where is this trapper cabin?” Jenna asked.
“On the southwest corner of the park, outside limits. We’re headed there now,” Broshears said.
“Should I come with you?” Jenna was more than ready to jump into action.
“No,” Harris said in a firm voice before Broshears could respond.
Jenna folded her arms at his high-handed tone.
“Penn asked me to gather more intel from you.” Broshears pulled out a device that appeared to be a combination of a cell phone and a mini tablet. He brought up a map on a screen and held it out for both her and Harris to see. “I need detailed information and locations of where the other treetops have fallen over the past three years.”
Both men looked at Jenna.
“That might be difficult to go back years, and most of the trees that snapped were assumed to be high winds or snowfall. Some we probably don’t even know about. The park is too vast to keep tabs on such things. You already learned about the hikers that have been injured in the past year.”
“Take this.” Broshears passed her the device. “Add a marker to each spot that you can recall.” He looked to Harris next. “I need what you haven’t sent Penn in the past two hours.”
“There’s not much to send. I’ve done some digging, but OFFAT hasn’t given me anything new to analyze since about eighteen-hundred hours.” He led the way to the desk, and Broshears followed, leaving Jenna to sit down at the table with the map.
When she finished, she looked up. Her stomach heated when she realized Harris was listening to Broshears but staring at her.
“I’m finished,” she announced. “I added every spot I can remember. But the park is over six million acres.” She gave a chuckle.
Broshears walked over to her and took the device. “We’re heading out now.”
“I really think I should go,” she insisted. “I can do some good in your search. I know a lot of this park. More than most, I’d say.”
“Why do you make that claim?” Harris stumped over to them.
“I do a lot of exploring. If I don’t hike to new places, I drive.”
Broshears looked to Harris. “We’ll take her.”
No way in hell was Lipton letting Jenna go without him.
And all his killer instincts were at the ready—he wouldn’t let anything touch her.
He also knew a brand-new torment, because the long daylight hours meant he was able to see her curves bouncing around in the ATV next to him. After a few hours on the trails with the team, exploring each and every site trees had been reported to have fallen, the trapper shack and a small cabin along the way, he realized something new about himself.
He was getting close to this woman.
The fact he’d laid in bed next to her without claiming her proved that he cared. Not that he hadn’t battled fantasy after fantasy of kissing those plump lips while moving inside her.
“Stop! Someone’s walking down the trail.” Jenna prepared to jump from the ATV that he insisted on driving despite his cast.
“Wait. Don’t make a move until—”
“I know him! Stop here.”
When he braked, she leaped to the ground and took off walking at a fast clip toward the hiker. Lipton clenched his jaw as she quickened her pace… She stopped before the man, and then threw her arms around him in a warm embrace.
A sharp stab in the center of Lipton’s chest had him issuing a growl, and he stomped on the gas, buzzing up next to them.
He grabbed his crutches and stepped out of the ATV, his stare riveted on this hiker Jenna knew—the one with his arms encircling her in such a familiar way.
They stepped apart and Jenna beamed. “Harris, this is Jack.”
“Jack…?” He waited for a last name, because the minute he had a chance, he would be researching this motherfucker in the national database.
“Just Jack.” The man extended a hand. Clean and bone thin, the man looked as if he never stopped moving and existed on nuts and berries. He wore his brown hair in dreadlocks that fell over his shoulders in ropes.
He was exactly the type of man Lipton could picture Jenna being with. And the way they embraced proved a connection.
He gripped Jack’s hand a little too hard. The man smiled. “That’s some grip you’ve got, Harris.”
He didn’t look away, smile or indicate in any way that he wouldn’t rip this man’s head off.
Jenna nudged him, and he released Jack’s hand.
The pair smiled at each other. “When did you enter the park?” she asked.
“Late Monday, if my memory’s on track. All the days run together.”
“It happens on the trail. I got your text and tried to get in touch with you to tell you the park isn’t accepting visitors right now. There’s a matter of security,” she told Jack.
They were close enough friends that they texted. Maybe it was even Jack who texted Jenna in the night.
Jack’s brows drew together. “I hadn’t heard. I didn’t exactly come in through the park’s entrance.”
She laughed. “Of course you didn’t. I wouldn’t expect anything else from you. I hate to tell you to go, but it’s for your own safety. I’m sorry.”
He hung his head for a moment. “I came all the way to Denali to see my old friend Moon Shadow and you’re kicking me out?” He looked up at her with what Lipton would call a flirtatious grin.
She gave a small toss of her curls.
Son of a bitch. She likes him flirting with her.
“It’s so good to see you. I’d love to meet up with you. Maybe you could stay nearby. Oh. You could stay with—”
“We’ve gotta get moving, Jenna.” Lipton cut her off before she said what he feared she planned to say next. Stay with me.
Goddammit.
He wasn’t a jealous man—had no cause to be. Long ago he learned that foster kids didn’t get first priority, special treatment or love. He’d shut down the center in his brain that conjured attachments to most people or the ability to feel jealousy.
But Jenna made all his circuit boards overload and now he felt a thick green rope coiling around and around his heart the longer he stood looking at her with this “friend.”
Jack had the presence of mind to pick up on Lipton’s tone of voice. “I’ll go, but only if you promise to text me so we can plan a date. Maybe beneath the moon?”
Her wide smile hurt Lipton to look at. He glanced away but didn’t move from her side.
“That sounds great.” She hugged Jack again. “Don’t go far, okay? We have to catch up after all this time.”
He nodded, beaming at her. At Lipton’s girl—
No, not Lipton’s girl.
She wasn’t his and couldn’t be. Their lives were far too different. Hell, they’d only known each other for days—a mere handful of hours in the course of a lifetime.
“I’ll text you,” Jack told her and turned his attention to Lipton. “Nice meeting you, Harris.”
He didn’t reply at first, only took in every detail about the man, from height and weight to the small scar marking his eye at the corner.
He moved to the ATV again and climbed behind the wheel, stowing the crutches in back. Damn this broken ankle for keeping him from giving off all the formidable, menacing vibes he was capable of.
From his seat, he glared at Jack until he threw Jenna a wave and turned back down the trail where he’d come from. Jenna watched him go for a moment before taking her seat next to Lipton.
He cranked the engine to make conversation impossible. Then he rolled past Jack. Jenna twisted to look back at her friend and waved.
When she faced forward again, she settled a glare on Lipton. “What was that?”
“Why don’t you tell me, Moon Shadow? And start with that name. Why do you use it and why is that asshole calling you that and asking you to meet him under the moon?”
His chest felt hot and tight and constricted, as if he didn’t have enough room for his vital organs.
She looked ahead and pointed. “Take that route.”
“Fine.” More than happy to get more distance between them and Jack, he buzzed along the new route.
“Slow down so we can talk.”
“I’ll do better than that.” He stopped the ATV and cut the engine. Turning to her, he waited.
For a moment, she said nothing, only searched his face. She gave a small shake of her head. “I don’t understand you at all,” she whispered.
“I asked you to tell me about the name you use.”
“I don’t have to answer you. I’m not under investigation. I’m helping you and your team.”
Feeling more and more of an ass as the seconds ticked by, he met her stare. “You’re right.”
“And?” Her green eyes glowed with expectancy. Or from the aftereffects of seeing Jackass again.
He sucked in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Please tell me what the name means.”
“It’s a trail name,” she said without hesitation.
“Trail name?”
“Yes. Sometimes people who take to the trails want to escape their lives for a little while. They take on different names or personas.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“No. It’s shedding the crazy rat race of the world out there”—she pointed in no specific direction—“and finding one’s roots.”
“And your trail name’s Moon Shadow.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She ducked her head. “It’s a song title. An old song my parents used to sing to me as a kid. Though in the title, Moonshadow is one word. I use two.” She saw his expression and waved a hand. “Anyway, I was on a solo hike and came across a group of campers. They asked me to sit at their fire.”
“And you did?” His voice rose a notch.
“Yes. It’s nice to accept an offer to sit at someone’s fire.”
His fists clenched and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head that she’d tossed away all safety precautions. “What if they’re serial killers? Do you know how many people go missing in state and national parks every year? Thousands!”
She nodded. “I’m aware. Listen, do you want to hear this or not?”
He forced himself into some semblance of calm, though his fists remained tightly coiled until his fingers ached.
She continued, “The moon was low in the sky, a huge golden orb that glowed bright and beautiful. It lit up the whole world. And I started singing that song. From that moment on, the name sort of attached itself to me.”
Her voice took on such a dreamy, faraway tone that he fell into a state of awe too. This woman was beyond anything he’d ever known.
He started to lean toward her, drawn by her sweet purity that he wanted to touch but feared he’d be sucked under her spell. From the corner of his eye, through the back of the ATV window, he saw Jack coming down the same trail they sat on. Either they’d been sitting here for a long while or the man made good time on foot.
He twisted forward and started the engine again. Jenna threw a look backward, and if she had anything to say about Lipton getting out of here, she didn’t say.
Tension flowed off her, and he knew he’d ticked her off. She was just too sweet to rail at him.
Good thing—because he didn’t know if he’d stop himself from kissing her.
Half an hour later, they reached the first site where a hiker had lost his life. Jenna grew very quiet while Lipton explored as much as he could with the crutches impeding his movement. Without a word between them, they went on to the next site, a mere ten minutes away.
“How far is this from the trapper’s cabin?”
“I’d say a few miles,” she answered him.
He gave a nod and tipped his head back to stare at the broken treetops. Two trunks rose high into the sky but ended as ragged, snapped toothpicks. “Whoever’s doing this has experience climbing.”
She nodded.
He made a mental note to do background checks on every electric and phone line crew within a hundred mile radius.
He scoped out the area, moving in circles.
“What are you searching for?” she asked.
“This guy’s not military.” He met her stare.
“How do you know?”
“No self-respecting military man would create such a flawed plan. We’re in the middle of the wilderness—there isn’t a person for miles.”
She didn’t respond, only gazed back at him.
“He
isn’t out to kill masses. If so, he’d set a bomb in Times Square.”
She blew out a breath. “I see what you’re saying. But what is he then?”
“I dunno. Maybe a simple serial killer, getting off on taking one life at a time.”
She made a noise in her throat, and he realized his words affected her. She was not a hardened special operative like him.
He moved toward her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She nodded, and another curl fell over her cheek.
This time, he reached out without thought or hesitation, throwing all caution to the Alaska wind.
His fingers burrowed into the silky curls at her temple. His palm wrapped around her soft, warm cheek.
They were working on a deadly matter of national security—but he had to know what she tasted like.
Her breath rattled in her chest as he inched closer. Her green eyes loomed close to his when he dipped his head and very slowly captured her mouth.
His eyes slipped shut at first contact with her plump lips. A soft sound broke from her, and he angled his head, deepening the kiss. When her lips parted for him, he nibbled at the bottom one, savoring her sweetness in a way he never had with another woman. His cock hardened, and all he wanted in the world was to find a bed and put this woman in it with him.
Jenna couldn’t catch her breath. Her common sense flew away like a broken boomerang that would never come back as long as this man was kissing her.
Shiver after shiver ran down her spine and her insides melted at the insistent pressure of Harris’s lips.
He cradled her head so tenderly, with the same care he used to whittle his woodland creatures, leaving her breathless. He moved slowly, giving her time to run if she wanted to.
She didn’t.
As he swiped his tongue across her lower lip, she gasped and clutched onto his jacket front, anchoring herself to remain upright.
A low grumble of a growl vibrated into her fingers. He dropped one of his crutches and planted his hand on the small of her back, pulling her against his big, hard body. She angled her head, parted her lips and invited him in.
