by Abby Niles
Well, that was one way to put it. She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Questions filled her, but she kept them to herself. No sense pushing her luck. The fact that the two of them were having a civilized, semi-normal conversation was a miracle.
As the silence stretched and became awkward, she took a bite of her pizza and looked around the room, searching for other possible topics. Nothing came to mind. Needing something to do, she stood and went to the counter to get the drinks she’d left there.
“We really don’t appreciate how lucky we are to be what we are.” His words were spoken softly, more to himself than to her, and as much as she probably should pretend she hadn’t heard him, she couldn’t.
She turned to find him still staring at the blanket, regret shining in those unusual blue eyes of his. “What do you mean?” she asked.
His gaze darted to hers for a moment before returning to the fabric. “Shifters. We take what we are for granted.” With an exhale, he leaned back on the chair and tossed the bag onto the table. “I did, anyway. It took some tough getting used to, but I learned to live as a human, accepted it. Started to believe I really wasn’t that different than I was before the serum. Do you want to know when I finally realized exactly how much the High Council had taken away from me?”
“When?”
“When Liam went missing. He needed me, desperately needed my abilities, and I was completely worthless.” His gaze met hers. “I never thanked you for what you did for him.”
At the sincerity in his voice, she frowned. She didn’t deserve his gratitude. Not after she’d flat-out said he had been worthless while they’d searched for his friend. Her part in the constant feud hit her again, along with a flood of shame.
Well, no more. At least not on her part.
She shrugged. “I was only doing my job.”
“Yeah, you were. But you could’ve handed it over to one of the other members of SPAC just so you wouldn’t have to deal with me. You didn’t, though. You stuck with me, bad attitude and all, and saved Liam and his mate.”
“Dea knows, I’m not the easiest person to deal with, either. Besides, I had the most experience and the best ability for the job.”
He groaned. “For fuck’s sake, I’m trying to thank you. Would you just take it and shut the hell up?”
A smile threatened to emerge and she pressed her lips together.
Britton Townsend had just made her want to smile. Holy crap. What was the world coming to?
“You’re welcome,” she finally said. All this talk of Samantha Mills, serums, and regrets had made her lose her appetite. Making a face, she walked over and placed her dish on the counter.
“You need to eat that.” He lifted a slice off his plate, waved it in the air, and took a huge bite. “We’re going to be doing a ton of hiking over the next few days. We’ll need the calories.”
The word “we” was being tossed around a lot. It felt odd. As if they were a team or something. But it seemed like they had come to an unspoken truce over the last few hours. Okay. She could roll with that. She took her plate to the table and sat down across from him.
Immediately, his entire body stiffened as his eyes shot to hers, and a deep scowl formed on his face.
She froze, in turn. What in the hell had she done?
Stunned at his sudden turn in mood, she shook her head and held up her hands. “Did I just pop the invisible bubble you’d placed around yourself?”
The muscle in his jaw clenched a moment before he worked his neck back and forth.
She shoved back her chair, and rose. Whatever. “You’ve got some serious issues, Townsend.” She started to storm to her room.
“Val.” Her name came out hoarse, almost wheezed.
She halted, but didn’t turn around.
A stretch of silence followed, before he whispered, “Sleep well.”
The tension in her shoulders relaxed. It wasn’t an actual apology for his asinine behavior, but it was an olive branch. The fact that he’d offered her one spoke volumes, because he never had before.
And she would take it, because it showed he was trying.
“You, too,” she mumbled.
She was determined to try, as well. It was high time to put this war between her and Britton to rest. For good.
…
The next morning, Britton parked Val’s car in front of the cabin. He’d gotten up early, packed their backpacks, and left before she’d gotten up, heading to the next town over to buy some necessities. Mostly because he hadn’t been ready to face her yet after the way he’d acted last night. Hell, he was still baffled by his reaction. Not that he’d become Team Val or anything, but talking to her in a civilized manner had been easier than he’d ever thought possible, and he’d gotten some stuff off his chest, finally thanking her for saving Liam. It’d felt good…it’d felt right.
Then she’d sat across from him at the table.
And those grateful feelings had gone to shit faster than the Carolina Panthers in the last two minutes of a game.
And it didn’t make a damn lick of sense as to why. She hadn’t done anything to warrant that behavior. It bothered him that she was trying to get along with him while he was continuing to act like a total ass to her.
He’d make a conscious effort to be better today.
After he gathered up the grocery bags, he hurried inside and found Val standing on the back deck, staring out across the mountains, up and ready to go. Her white-blond hair had been straightened and pulled back into a ponytail. The long-sleeved cotton shirt she wore showed her narrow waist, and tight workout pants hugged her bottom.
A very nice, perfectly shaped bottom.
He frowned. Since when did he notice Val’s ass?
In his defense, she’d never worn such tight material around him before, mostly wearing pantsuits and the occasional pair of jeans to work. But spandex?
Holy shit on a stick.
As conflicting thoughts and emotions battled for supremacy, his frown twisted into a scowl. Noticing her as a woman would only make things worse. “Don’t you have something warmer to wear?”
Like loose sweatpants.
She looked over her shoulder. “They’re lined. Warmest thing I own.”
“Fucking fantastic,” he muttered, placed the grocery bags on the kitchen counter, and went out to grab the two left in the car.
When he returned, she skirted around him, keeping an obvious distance between them as she entered the kitchen.
Ouch. He blew out a breath. It bothered him that she was aware of his need for a wide berth. It shouldn’t. It never had before. But for some odd reason, seeing her edge around him irked him now. Besides, he didn’t want to start the day off like this. They had too much shit to do and tension between them was only going to make the time miserable for them both.
He riffled through a bag, then pulled out a small can of coffee and a carton of half and half.
Without a second of hesitation, she closed the distance between them and grabbed his offering. “Oh Dea, you’re a life saver! The only thing I found was that instant crap.”
“Yeah. I noticed that this morning.”
More at ease than she was a few moments earlier, she helped him unload. He caught her staring at something he couldn’t see because the paper bag obstructed his view.
“What?”
She held up a package of Kit Kats, then she put them down and pulled out three cans of Beefaroni.
He blinked at the food. Had he really bought that stuff? He thought back. He’d gone in, grabbed a few things off the shelves, talked to the clerk, and gotten some good information about the area. When the fuck had he picked up those things, and why hadn’t he been aware of doing it?
She stared at him. “You’re just full of surprises lately.”
Yeah, no kidding. He didn’t like Kit Kats, nor did he care for canned pasta.
But Val did.
He’d learned that from his time with her searching for Liam. When sh
e was stressed, she’d snack away on a Kit Kat. During the two days they’d searched for his friend, she’d eaten a lot of them. And she’d pretty much lived on canned pasta.
How had he remembered it? He’d been so torn up being near her and worried over his friend that her food preference shouldn’t have stuck with him.
Apparently it had.
Shrugging, he tried to make light of it. “Figured this case would stress you out. Bought the chocolate as backup.”
“Uh…well…thank you.”
He shrugged again. “Don’t mention it.”
Like, ever.
He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost eight thirty. Fix your coffee while I whip together the eggs.”
Opening the can, she inhaled deeply of the coffee aroma and gave a pleased moan.
An odd sensation tweaked his chest and he froze while cracking an egg. What the hell?
If he didn’t know better, he would’ve called it a zap of attraction. But he did know better. This was Val, and having any attraction to that woman was completely ludicrous. He rubbed his chest.
Hunger pangs. Had to be.
Within minutes he had the eggs going, and the room had filled with the smell of brewing coffee. When there was enough to make a cup, she yanked out the pot and poured a mug. She took a sip and moaned again, causing that odd sensation to sizzle in his torso once more.
“Knock off the sound effects, for Dea’s sakes. It’s a cup of damn coffee,” he snapped.
She blinked at him. “Sorry.”
As soon as the words had shot out of his mouth he regretted them…but whatever was going on in his chest was irritating as hell. He shoveled the eggs onto a plate and handed it at her. “We’ve got to hurry, okay?” he said, using a lighter tone.
“One inhaling of food coming right up,” she said as she went into the living room and sat down. At her comment, a smile teased the corner of his mouth again.
When he realized it, he frowned. What was up with him this morning?
After they ate, they gathered up the gear and took it out to the car. Wanting to make up for being such an ass yesterday, he dangled the car keys at her. She grinned and took them, then slipped behind the wheel.
As she drove to the cabin, he became aware that she was sitting only a few inches from him and he wasn’t twitching. When she’d helped unload the groceries earlier, he hadn’t felt one moment of discomfort, either. Hmm. Maybe the more time he spent with her, the more comfortable he was feeling.
She wasn’t half-bad, really.
Val pulled the car up in front of the cabin and they got out, pulling on their backpacks.
“What’s in these, anyway?” Val asked.
“Hiking gear. Compass, first aid kit, rain poncho. Stuff like that.”
“Huh. So it’s not your closet you brought with you, is it?”
He didn’t say anything, just smiled and winked, then started off into the woods. When a person walked, the scent perfumed a wide area, but there was always a sharper imprint on the air he’d physically occupied. If smells were visible, there would be a clear line slicing through the woods along his path. For Britton, his acute sense of smell made it pretty much like that.
When they reached the area where the perps’ scents branched, Britton started hiking off toward the right. “How do you think they knew about your limitation, Val?” he asked.
“It’s not top-secret information, Britton. Anyone who took some time to research my cases would be able to put it together.”
“I didn’t know. I never even doubted your ability, since you were able to track Liam so easily.”
“I don’t make it a point to broadcast it. I was able to track Liam because the kidnapper hadn’t masked his scent. If you recall, finding the actual kidnapper proved rather difficult.”
True. The guy had led them on a merry chase. He’d definitely known about Britton’s inability to track him. Had he also guessed about Val?
“But you can smell the shifter under the masking, right?” he asked.
“Yep, I just can’t identify the tagging scent. Makes things harder. Still, my ability is better than almost all other shifters. They can’t even smell the musk under the propane, much less keep the scent contained to a smaller area like I can.”
He heard the defensive edge in her tone, as if she had to prove to him that she had been the right candidate to take his position when the High Council had relieved him of his duties.
“The High Council hired you for a reason, Val. If they believed you were the next best thing to me, then you are.”
Her footsteps halted behind him. He didn’t stop or glance over his shoulder. Yeah, he’d given her a compliment, and most likely she was as stunned as he’d been yesterday when she’d given him one.
A soft, almost shocked laugh sounded before her steps started again. “When they laid out this trail, they knew following it would cost me time, but they weren’t banking on the High Council giving you clemency. They’re not going to be happy when they figure out you’re involved.”
“Let’s hope we find them before they do.”
Thirty minutes later, the scent of grass hit sharp and potent. Behind him, Val inhaled deeply. She’d also smelled it. Once again the trail branched. However, this time, all three scents continued in both directions. In one direction Charlie’s scent rang loud and clear against the propane, while in the other it was doused under the propane. For now, Britton kept his mouth shut about the opposite direction, waiting to see what Val said.
She sidled up beside him. “I can smell Charlie that way, along with a strong shifter musk.” Rubbing her hand over her mouth, she turned her head in the other direction. “This way it’s all shifter musk, no Charlie. But they could be masking the boy’s scent in hopes I’ll instinctively take off after him the wrong way. Or…they could simply have carried something he’d marked with his scent, but the boy is still masked by the propane.”
“Both directions have his scent, Val.”
“His physical scent?”
“Yes. It’s a decoy. They took him up one way to throw you off. They probably brought him back on the exact same path, then took the other trail to wherever their destination really was. The question is, which path is which?”
“Which door do we choose, Townsend?”
“What does your instinct say?”
“To follow the propane only.”
His did, too. But what if they were wrong? What if they royally fucked this up because of a split-second decision? He’d made one in the past, and paid a high price for it. The High Council sure as hell wouldn’t be lenient a second time.
“We’re going to have to split up.” He didn’t like the idea at all, but going together would take too much time, especially if they chose the wrong path.
“Split up?” She looked around, breathed a low “shit.”
He knew she wasn’t comfortable in the woods. “How’s your phone?”
She dug it out. “Wow. I have bars, go figure.”
“You have a compass, water, and snacks.” He motioned for her to turn around, dug the compass out of her pack, and handed it to her. “You take the southwest trail.”
He’d rather she go toward the area the general store owner had said was more hiker-friendly. Britton would take the harder route.
“What if they trick me again?”
She no longer believed in her own abilities, and that pained him.
“Val. You smell Charlie and the shifter musk going that way, right?”
She nodded.
“So do I,” he continued. “Just follow it. It’s either going to end, or you’re going to find—”
A flutter beneath his ribs startled the words away. He gasped sharply, grabbing his side.
“Britton, are you okay?” She laid a hand on his forearm. The tingles that warmed his skin at her touch startled him even more than feeling the beast within him for the first time in over four years. There was no urge to shove her away, no distaste at having
her hand on him, just a comforting warmth.
He tilted his head, studying her curiously. Without answering, he lifted the hand she had on his arm and tugged her forward.
“B-Britton?” Her voice shook as she slowly leaned away.
Ignoring her protest, he brought her closer, sliding his arm around her waist…testing, waiting for the inevitable revulsion to hit. But as he hugged her tight to his chest, he felt nothing negative, just her very womanly body pressed against his. He squeezed her once, chuckling into her neck before releasing her.
She stared up at him as if he’d lost his mind. Hell, maybe he had.
“What was that?”
His lips twisted into a half smile and he shrugged. “I think you’re growing on me.”
Chapter Five
Why wouldn’t it fade?
Val trudged through the forest, unnerved by the physical warmth that still lingered on the front of her body where she’d pressed up against Britton—even an hour later. It had stuck around as a constant reminder that, though she’d been shocked snotless, she’d enjoyed being held by him. And that unnerved her even more than the tingling heat sizzling on her torso.
I think you’re growing on me.
She snorted. Yeah. Like a fungus, maybe.
Ugh. Was it possible that she and Britton had settled the past with that apology? Other than that difficult moment last night, and him snapping over her moaning about the coffee this morning, things between them had been…nice.
Comfortable.
Dare she even say she liked this Britton?
He smiled easily, and was compassionate and even thoughtful. Three things she hadn’t believed him capable of before now. Not with her at least.
To make matters worse, he’d given her the smile—the arrogant tilting-up-of-one-corner-of-his-mouth smirk that made women forget their first name.
Directed. At. Her.
And now she understood all too well why women reacted the way they did. She’d been completely tongue-tied. In a dazed stupor. Where she could only focus on those cranked-up lips and wish they were plastered all over hers.
How could lips wreak such havoc on her senses?
Yeah, the man was drop-dead gorgeous. She’d never denied that. She might not have liked him, but she wasn’t blind. However, it’d always been easy to keep any body-betraying attraction in check, because eventually he’d open his mouth and that attraction turned into a block of ice. But now, if he was nice like this all the time with her, how was she supposed to keep from turning into every other woman who panted after the damn man?
