by Vanessa Vale
Where the main house of the Wainright Ranch had been built for sweeping views in all directions, the cabin felt secluded. The field was perhaps two acres and when I was out of the truck, I heard water running. A creek cut across the side and into the woods. With the clouds breaking and the sun coming out, it was beautiful. Quiet. Serene.
“What is this place?” I asked.
Jed opened the back door of his quad cab for the dogs and they hopped out, ran off to explore.
“My cabin.”
I looked away from the view and to Jed. He pulled a bag and tossed it over his shoulder.
“This place is yours?”
He nodded, walked across the flagstones to the front door. It had a keypad lock and he pushed a few of the numbers to unlock it. He pushed it open and turned to face me. Waited.
He was rugged as always. Jeans and sturdy work boots. Today he wore a black t-shirt and his Stetson was missing. He looked like a lumberjack, only needing to replace the duffel bag he carried with an axe. The setting was perfect. He fit here.
I cut past him inside and he followed, set the bag down.
As I took in the interior, he walked around, opening windows and the sliding door at the back. As I’d thought, it was one large room, although there was a small bathroom with a door to my right. The kitchen had a fridge and stove/oven combo, a sink that overlooked the field. A small butcher block island. There was no dishwasher, only a drying rack. There was a large fireplace surrounded by river rock. A leather couch faced it and an overstuffed chair and ottoman were in the corner. I could see Jed here in the dead of winter, fire blazing, dog at his feet, as he read. In the far corner was a large bed, the frame hewn also from logs. A quilt covered it and one hung on the wall above the headboard.
A thick rug covered the floor in front of the fireplace and couch, but the rest was bare wide-plank beams. The space had been stuffy being closed up, but there was a breeze coming through the windows which set the simple muslin curtains fluttering.
Someone had built this place by hand and I guessed it was Jed.
“Did you build this?”
He shrugged, glanced around. “My father and I. I bought the land after college. When I came home to visit, we’d work on it. Some things we hired out, like the foundation and the chimney. My mother had her hand in decorating.”
I couldn’t imagine Jed choosing navy throw pillows for the leather sofa or cafe curtains. Her touch had been gentle though because her touches didn’t make it feminine, only charming.
“It’s really great, Jed.”
His eyes widened as he turned them to me. “It’s not Billionaire—”
I held up my hand. “Don’t even finish that. You think I’m too… snooty for this?” Then I waved my hand around to take in his place.
His gaze raked over me. “If the shoe fits, princess.”
I looked down at myself, took in my business dress, my heels. I looked ridiculous dressed as I was, where I was. Lifting my foot, I grabbed one heel, tugged it off, dropped it to the floor. Then did the other.
“I didn’t have time to pack a bag. It’s this or naked.”
His eyes flared with heat as he looked me over once more, definitely imagining me naked.
“While that’s going to happen, you being naked, we’ve got to talk first.”
“We? I’m not the liar.”
“You sure about that?”
“What does that even mean? You fucked me… to what? Get answers?”
“I fucked you to get you off. Because I couldn’t wait another second to get my dick in you.”
The words were hot, but empty. “You used me.”
He ran a hand over his beard, sighed. “If I remember correctly, you were the one bent over your daddy’s desk with my mouth on your pussy.”
“I… I—” I had no idea what to say. Suddenly I was so angry I was sure smoke was coming out of my ears. “You might be pissed about what Macon did, but he only fucked me over. He didn’t actually fuck me.”
If molars could be ground to dust, his probably would. I had a feeling he wanted to say something back. Instead, he went to the duffel, opened the zipper and rummaged around. “Here, princess. This is the best I can do.” He handed me a t-shirt and thick socks. Tipped his head toward the bathroom. “Get changed and we’ll talk.”
He left me standing there, heading out onto the porch, the screen door slapping shut behind him. The dogs ran up the steps and circled around him to get pets. Jed’s dog—one I didn’t even know he had—held a stick in his mouth. Jed grabbed it and flung it out into the field. Both dogs ran after it.
Did I look so adoringly at Jed, where he tossed something out, like affection or orgasms and I ran after them, again and again?
I groaned, then stomped off to the bathroom to change. He was right. We had talking to do. The bathroom was small with a sink, clawfoot tub and toilet. A matching braided rug was on the floor. Navy towels were folded neatly on a shelf above the toilet and a matching hand towel on a hook beside the sink.
I didn’t know how often Jed came to the cabin, but it was tidy and clean. Definitely not a bachelor pad like East’s place in Bozeman. I hadn’t even seen a TV.
I stripped off my damp dress and put on his t-shirt. It was gray and had FBI in huge black letters across my chest. It was also soft and smelled like laundry and Jed and was huge on me, reminding me how big the guy was. I laid my dress out over the shower curtain rod. It was too warm for the socks, so I kept them rolled up and dropped them back in the open duffel on the way by.
Jed was in an Adirondack chair, a foot propped up on the railing when I came out. He looked me over, but didn’t say anything. The dogs were at his feet, sprawled out. Eddie saw me but didn’t move more than a tail wag.
“What’s your dog’s name?”
“Boozer.”
The dog lifted his head at being called, licked his chops, then flopped back down. I’d guess he was a mutt, but had some kind of hunter in him. His fur was brown with patches of lighter fur.
“I got you some water.” He pointed to two glasses that were set on a chunk of log used as a little side table. There was also a dishtowel there, and since the other chair was dry, I assumed he used it to wipe them down after the rain. I dropped into the comfortable seat and took a big gulp of the water. It was cool and fresh, either from a well or a spring.
“Do we even have food out here?” I asked.
“We might be in the middle of nowhere, but there’s electricity. Propane. The freezer’s full of ready-made meals. We won’t starve. I know you’ve got a lot of questions, princess.”
He wasn’t asking so I stayed quiet.
“I’ll start at the beginning. I was recruited for the FBI in college, which you know.”
I nodded, setting the glass down.
“What you also know is that I was fired for taking bribes from corrupt officials and well… the bad guys.” He stood, turned and leaned against the railing so he faced me. “I wasn’t fired. I was assigned a new case. Macon Wainright.”
My head whipped up in surprise. “What?”
“He’s been under investigation for the past year, but it wasn’t getting anywhere. They needed someone on the inside. Someone undercover.”
“You.”
He nodded. “It’s not like any agent could do that out here. He—or she—would have to blend in. Have a believable story.”
Jed had been born and raised in the area. A cowboy before he’d become an agent.
“What’s the saying?” I said. “You can’t take the cowboy out of the agent but you can take the agent out of the cowboy?”
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Something like that.”
“It’s just coincidence you grew up where your investigation was,” I said, thinking about how small of a world it was.
His jaw clenched, then released. “One hell of a coincidence, which my boss was thrilled about. I was the only one for the job. My cover was easy to make because almost all of
it was true. People remember me.”
I flushed, because I’d remembered him from all those years ago. I’d believed his cover.
“So as part your cover you came back and got a job with John Marshall to gain access to Macon through him.”
A bird flew over, cried out, then swooped into the woods.
“Yes.”
My mind worked through all the possibilities of what Macon could have done to bring him into the FBIs radar. “What is it you think he did?”
They wouldn’t have been investigating my father for a year if they didn’t consider him a suspect of a crime. And to send Jed undercover—
“The FBI is federal. We only handle certain kinds of cases. Terrorism.”
My mouth fell open. “Terrorism? You think—”
He held up a hand. “No. We also specialize in white collar crimes and public corruption. Macon was good at being bad, North. The CEO of a billion-dollar company was talented at keeping his hands clean.”
I knew that. I figured he’d stop at nothing to close a deal, even using me, but I’d never known him to do things illegal. Unethical, definitely.
“He’s dead. Your case is closed. Why are you still here?”
I swallowed, not sure if I wanted the answer. Was he leaving? Did I want him to? I hated him, or so I thought. I didn’t know what real was any longer.
“Because the case shifted. To the new CEO.”
13
NORTH
* * *
I hopped to my feet and he grabbed me before I could storm off. His arm banded my waist and he pulled me back against him. I wished I still had on my heels so I could jam one into the top of his foot.
“Let me go!” I struggled, but he wasn’t going to let me go.
“You didn’t do it,” he said, his voice a snarl in my ear.
“I don’t even know what it is.”
“You didn’t do it,” he repeated.
I stared at the logs that built the house, the screen door. “I heard you the first time. You’d have arrested me if you had evidence that I did… whatever. Which means, I want to know what information you’re fucking me for.”
He let go of me as if I’d burned him.
I stalked across the deck, crossed my arms over my chest.
“Marshall bought a piece of land by the Canadian border,” Jed began. “He bought it for Macon because the owner wouldn’t sell it to your father. We don’t know the reason. Maybe because he was a shifty asshole. We do have record of the sale to Marshall. We also have a contract Macon signed with the intent to purchase the land from him.”
I stilled because what he was saying was fact. I knew all this because I’d finalized that deal the night before. Got Julian to ensure the funding was wired to Marshall. I’d done it not to make Marshall happy, but to see where Jed stood. If he’d walk away once the job for his boss was done.
Turned out, that wasn’t even his actual job.
“You know what I’m talking about,” he said, studying me.
I nodded, licked my lips. “Yes. That’s not illegal.”
“No, it’s not. It’s what Macon planned to do with the land that we’re interested in.”
“Any land Wainright Holdings purchases is for conservation. It would have been donated to a land conservancy group.”
Jed leaned back against the rail once more, slowly shook his head. “Our intel says he’s planning to lease the land to a logger. Then to a company that strip mines.”
“No. No, that’s not true. He can’t do that. There are laws.”
“The FBI investigates white collar crimes and public corruption,” he repeated.
I bit my lip. Considered.
“You knew Macon better than anyone. Don’t you think this is something he’d do?”
It sounded just like him. “I’m the head of the company’s philanthropy. I know nothing about this.”
“What he was planning wasn’t very philanthropic,” he countered.
The calmer he got, the more riled I became. This had Macon written all over it. He’d kept me in the dark, because I would have fought him on it. “Fine. He’s dead. None of it matters now.”
“Except if he made the deals with government officials and those loggers on the condition the land was purchased.”
Oh shit.
Had I just set in motion the destruction of hundreds of acres of pristine wilderness?
“I knew nothing about that,” I said, refusing to tell him that I’d closed the contract with Marshall. The purchase wasn’t illegal, especially if I did actually donate it to a conservation group.
I hadn’t seen the contract with the loggers or whatever the company was. It hadn’t been in the pile Julian had given me the day before. I could only imagine where it was and if Macon had a secret stack of deals he never wanted me to know about.
Of course he did. I’d have to find it and ensure this one was never signed because the land was to be preserved, not destroyed.
“I know,” he said.
“Say it is real. This… deal. It’s as dead as Macon without my signature.”
“Maybe. That’s why my boss has kept me in.”
“In me, you mean.” I closed my eyes, shook my head. “This started when you came to the wake. You admitted you were there for Marshall. The goal then was to fuck me to… what, sign the land contract, right?”
I saw him wince.
I took a deep breath, let it out, tried not to cry. God, this man pulled every emotion from me. I felt things. So many things with him and not all of them were good. He could somehow heal me of old wounds one minute and destroy me with new ones the next.
“But that wasn’t all. You came back for more for your other boss. The FBI.” I sniffed. “Wow, the bed was more crowded than I thought last night.”
He groaned, rubbed his beard. “Marshall sent me to the wake and told me to fuck you for answers. Since Macon was dead, he was out millions on that land purchase and needed to know if you’d still buy it.”
I didn’t expect him to actually admit it.
He took a step toward me, and I stepped back.
“The moment I saw you coming down those stairs at the wake, everything changed.”
“So you didn’t want to fuck me. Could’ve fooled me.”
Tears lodged in my throat and I swallowed hard.
“That was what I was told to do. Not what I was going to do. We’re a little alike, aren’t we?”
I pursed my lips. “I have no idea how.” I took in his rugged physique and I felt so small in comparison.
“We had orders to fuck to get others what they wanted.”
“The difference is that Texas oil tycoon wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.”
I thought I heard him growl. “I want that asshole’s name.”
Laughing, I said, “So you can beat him up?”
“Put him in jail.”
He was dead serious and that… made me feel good. But I hated him.
“Fine. You changed your mind about doing what Marshall commanded. What about your real boss at the FBI? I’m sure he—”
“She,” he corrected.
“She’s not too thrilled about you sleeping with a suspect.”
“She doesn’t know. I don’t kiss and tell.”
I studied him. Eddie stood up, went over to a bowl of water in the corner of the porch and drank sloppily.
“You are a terrible employee,” I said finally.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No kidding. Marshall still owns a piece of land he doesn’t want and the FBI can’t connect you to any crimes.”
Jed didn’t know about the signed contract, which meant he hadn’t talked to Marshall this morning.
“You dragged me out here to what, force me to sign the contract my father made with Marshall and then have me open all my files so you can dig through them? It’s either that or jail?”
“You’re here because someone shot at you. Tried to kill you.”
 
; “I’m not good to you dead,” I countered.
He stared at me, wide-eyed, then ran a hand down over his face, through his beard. It was his obvious sign of frustration.
“Jesus, woman. You have no idea how special you are. How amazing. So fucking strong. Stubborn. Frustrating.”
“Yay, what every woman wants to he—”
He closed the distance between us and settled his palm over my mouth, hooked his other hand around my back.
“You’re here because I’m protecting you. Because it’s my job to do so. Not working for Marshall or the FBI. Because I’m your man.”
He pulled his hand away and kissed me. Like I was water and he’d trekked through the desert. Like he was my man. Like… I was his and he was proving it.
Eventually, he broke the kiss, set his forehead against mine.
“I saw you at the wake and decided then and there you were mine. I never forgot you from that barbecue when you were there with Jock. I was attracted to you then. Never went away.”
Oh.
“Do you think I wanted to fall in love with the woman who Marshall expected me to fuck and that my boss has me undercover investigating?”
“What?” I stared at him, appalled.
“When you first mentioned that you’d gotten info on me, I told you not to believe everything you read. I wanted to tell you the truth. I couldn’t.” His dark gaze dropped to my lips. “I love you, North Wainright. That’s no lie.”
“You can’t,” I whispered. Those three words were the last thing I’d expected him to say. Anyone to say.
“I can. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it.”
“This is insane,” I sputtered. I was more shocked now than when I’d been told Macon had died.