by Abby Niles
He blinked abruptly, tossed the cue stick on the table, and backed away. “I think we should call it a night. Got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” He tipped his head at the bathroom. “You go ahead. I’ll brush my teeth when you’re done.”
Without another word, he strode to the couch, lay down with his back toward her, and pulled the cover up over his head until he was completely hidden from sight.
Laying a hand over her racing heart, she slowly exhaled.
She should feel insulted, but she didn’t.
Obviously, he wasn’t as unaffected by her as he let on. But he was fighting his attraction as fiercely as she was hers. What a relief to know she wasn’t alone in the attraction or in the fight against it.
But in acknowledging that attraction, however reluctantly, they may have just opened Pandora’s box.
Chapter Seven
Britton shoved aside a large branch and held it back until Val passed by with a murmured “Thank you.” Polite but distant, a clear representation of what their interaction had been like all damn morning.
Before last night he hadn’t been sure Val even saw him as a man, but twice the scent of her arousal had spiced the air—because of him. He’d been stunned when the musky tinge had first hit his nose, and he’d instantly gone rock-hard. Thankfully, she had ducked behind the counter and given him a chance to leave the room to save them both the awkwardness. Then the alluring aroma had teased him again while they’d played pool. Both times she seemed as horrified by her body’s response to him as he was with the war of desire waging within his own.
A desire that had wanted to yank her upturned ass right back onto his hardening cock as she’d lined up her shot and rub against her lush bottom until the room was filled to bursting with the mouth-watering fragrance of her arousal. And his knee-jerk reaction to that alarming urge had been just as pathetic as hers, except he’d done his hiding under the fucking covers.
After his hasty departure, she’d silently gotten ready for bed, then locked herself in her room. Yes, locked. As though she didn’t trust him.
Hell, who could blame her? He didn’t trust himself.
He’d spent the night tossing and turning on the couch, involuntarily sifting through the noises of the night until he realized she was also moving around in her bed, as restless as he was. At least that was a bonus. Knowing she was just as unsettled by this unexpected development made him feel better. That this attraction was unwanted on both their parts.
Now if they could just continue to pretend it wasn’t there, until this fucking case was solved.
Which didn’t seem would be anytime soon. They’d been hiking for almost four hours and the scents of Charlie and his kidnappers hadn’t wavered, just kept taking them deeper and deeper on an endless trek through the woods.
A disgusted groan came from Val. “I can’t believe we’ve got to go back to the cabin. Being this far out already, we can’t keep backtracking. We’ve got to start camping so we don’t lose our forward progress.” He agreed with her, but he wasn’t happy about it. He was having a hard enough time keeping his hands off her in the cabin. Zip them into a small tent—squished together—and he wasn’t sure what would happen.
No. He was pretty sure he knew what would happen.
But Harwood had saved him from worrying about that for another night. Right before they’d ventured out this morning, the elder had called, informing him that the samples would be delivered to the cabin this afternoon. He wanted a positive identification tonight.
“We do what we’re told, Val, at least when we’re dealing with SPAC cases. If the elder wants us to return to the cabin to sniff a couple pieces of fabric, then we return to the cabin and sniff the damn fabric. Not doing so is just asking for trouble. Human cases are so much easier, aren’t they?”
A soft, amused chuckle sounded behind him, doing funny things inside his chest. “Right? Human cases are like a vacation compared to shifter ones. The council can be such a pain in the ass sometimes.”
“Yeah,” he muttered, falling silent, in fear of making her laugh and having his body react again.
Thirty minutes later, her laughter was the least of his problems. Her winded breathing behind him was driving him mad, taunting him with mental images of her that’d put a triple-X porn to shame. Dea, he needed a distraction now or he risked trying to make her winded for a completely different reason than hiking.
“What do you do in your spare time?” he blurted out, desperate for a distraction.
“You mean when I’m not juggling being head of SPAC with working as a homicide detective for Carnal Ridge PD? Come on, Britton, you’ve had my job. You know there isn’t a lot of time for fun.”
“I always found time for fun, Val,” he said without thinking.
“Yeah, and your reputation speaks for itself,” she muttered.
There was a real edge to her voice. He glanced over at her. Yep, her jaw was clenched. Did it bother her that he had a reputation? And why did he like the possibility that it did?
“We have a very stressful job,” he said. “You do occasionally have to let your hair down some, you know?”
“I do.”
“Really? That’s not what I hear. Word around the PD is you’re all work and no play.”
“Oh, I play. Just not with anyone at the PD.”
It was his turn to clench his jaw as violent jealousy burned through his chest. “With who?” was out before he could stop it.
“I’m not one to kiss and tell.”
Even though she didn’t outright say it, he got her meaning. He was one to kiss and tell.
“What do you do when you’re playing?” he pushed, perversely. Why in the fucking hell had he asked that?
“A little too interested in my sex life, huh, Britton?”
He fisted his hands. “Just heard the gossip is all. ‘Prude’ and ‘cold’ seem to be synonyms for Val Calhoun.”
“Yeah, I know.” He could hear the shrug in her voice. “I just have zero interest in playing where I work. Besides, there’s no one who interests me at work.”
Wrong.
He spun around so quickly she only had time to gasp before he had her trapped against a tree. The feel of his body pressing into hers almost made him groan aloud. Her instant arousal attacked his nostrils. She liked this. She liked him. His beast shifted inside, sending a spike of lust through him. Seemed his beast liked this, too. And her. “Having some playtime at work can be fun, Val. You should try it.”
Her lips pursed downward. “You would know.”
His attention dropped to her mouth. As her tongue sneaked out to wet her bottom lip, his breathing kicked up. Kiss her. “What do you say? Want to have a little fun with me?”
The words were out before he could take them back, but they were enough to shock him out of his actions. What had gotten into him? He was supposed to be fighting this, not spurring it on.
He stepped back and raked a hand through his hair. “Jeez, I’m sorry, Val. That was horribly inappropriate.”
“Since when have you ever cared about being inappropriate?” She trudged a little ways ahead of him. “Don’t worry about it. It didn’t happen.”
Unfortunately those words did nothing to erase what had happened, no matter how much he wished they did. As she walked away, a tightening suddenly gripped his torso and he massaged his chest with his palm.
The sensation eased, but left him befuddled as he tried to remember if he’d had that feeling before the council’s injection. No, he’d definitely never felt this suffocation, as though someone was squeezing his heart and lungs in his chest. He didn’t like it, and it increased his worry that the serum had somehow fucked him up inside.
Making a shifter’s DNA go dormant with some synthetic liquid had to have some kind of bad consequence or side effect. When his buddy Liam had been disconnected from his beast, he’d said he could still feel it physically, but not its emotions…and he couldn’t shift.
Now Britton was ha
ving all these odd symptoms, and he still couldn’t shift, either. Was it possible the serum wouldn’t reconnect him to his beast, but only bring his abilities back just enough to use them?
Too many questions. But one thing he knew…he didn’t like the feeling of suffocation. At all.
…
Inappropriate.
At the absurdity of that word coming out of Britton’s mouth, Val wanted to laugh. Had she been a different woman, there would’ve been a lot more going on against that tree than an amazing amount of sexual tension.
Hell, even she would admit that if he’d been a different man, she would’ve said screw it to her “no play at work” rule and been all in. The kind of chemistry sparking between them promised one hell of a good time. As much as people might believe her a prude at work, she wasn’t. She enjoyed having a man’s hands on her body and loved the escape that sex brought her—with anyone but Britton.
So, she would agree this…whatever it was…was inappropriate. Not what they were feeling or saying, but who they were feeling and saying it with. She and Britton had a rocky past, filled with a lot of nastiness and animosity. Yeah, she’d always found him attractive, but not like this. This was…weird. Overwhelming.
And apparently it was for him, too. They just needed to keep their distance from each other.
“Val. Wait up.” The words were hushed as his hand clamped onto her wrist and he put a finger to his lips.
Instantly she went on alert. She glanced around. “What is it?” she whispered.
“Three of the original scents just came back.”
She sniffed the air. Like yesterday, they were undetectable to her. But she didn’t question Britton. He’d already proven himself to her.
“What scents are you getting?” she asked. “All I smell is the shifter musk and propane.”
“They met here. After they branched off at the first cabin and you didn’t follow their trail, the first group must have circled around to rejoin the others.” He walked a few feet ahead. “The entire group is together now and they headed off this way.”
That she could pick up. The musk was heavier to the extreme left, indicating that a group of shifters had gone in that direction.
Pulling his gun from the holster, he took off ahead of her, keeping crouched down. She followed his lead. They crept forward for a few minutes, then Britton turned around. “There’s another cabin up ahead.” He sucked in air through his nose and straightened. “No one’s here.”
How in the hell could he tell that? The level of musk had stayed even for her. “Are you sure?”
He sent her that cocky smile she was somewhat perturbed to realize she was starting to like. “Yep.”
He walked into the clearing, holstering his gun. No way in hell was she putting away hers. As she eased hesitantly out from the cover of the trees, she gripped her weapon in her hands.
“You can put that up. It’s clear.”
“Forgive me for being cautious, okay?”
Chuckling, he ran up the stairs to the small front porch.
This was what Harwood had been talking about. Britton would never have been fooled by a blanket. She begrudgingly holstered her gun.
He opened the cabin door. “Ladies first.” He swept his arm out and she stepped inside.
It was pretty much the same setup as the other cabin; this one was just older and a lot dustier. Another letter sat on top of the table.
Val picked it up and read the greeting.
Fuck you, Detective Townsend.
She whipped around to look at Britton, who was reading the letter over her shoulder. “They know about you.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
Ignoring his retort, she returned her attention to the letter.
So you get clemency to come up here in the mountains to hunt us down, but a mother gets life in prison for protecting her child? How unfair is that? Tell good ol’ Harwood this decision has now cost him twenty-four hours. The council has until 4:00 p.m. Saturday to give us what we want. We also want you off the case or we will make this so bad there won’t be a shifter alive who will be able to sleep without one eye open. Enjoy the present we left for you. You need some reminding on what is at stake.
Val lowered the paper, noting the Polaroid pictures on the table. Four of them. One of the child sitting cross-legged on the ground, his cherubic face turned toward the lens, brown eyes wide and innocent but with a hint of sadness. The next the yellow glow of his beast had taken over the irises, giving the child a serious Children of the Corn vibe. The third caught the boy in mid-transformation, with the skin stretching over his elongating jaw. The fourth was his beast, a wolf, blood coating the fur around his muzzle.
“Shit,” Britton muttered, then spun away and paced the length of the room, his strides jerky and agitated.
“We knew they were going to be pissed when they learned about you.”
“Then why only cut off twenty-four hours? How about growing some goddamn balls and putting a real deadline on the council? If you’re going to fucking threaten them, fucking threaten them. Don’t be all pansy-assed about it.” He hit the wall with his fist. “You know what, fuck them and their lousy negotiating.”
Watching his helpless rage made Val’s heart ache for him. To have a mother’s punishment tossed in his face when he’d had no say in his clemency must feel like a kick in the teeth. Val laid a hand on his biceps. He stilled, but continued staring straight ahead.
“Hey, they don’t know your clemency is temporary. They also don’t know you weren’t given a choice in the matter. They don’t know that you have to work each day knowing that as soon as this case is over your beast will be taken away again. If they did, the tune of that letter would have been just as outraged on your behalf as it was for Samantha Mills. Who knows, Britton, if you solve this case and save all of us, the High Council may just make your reprieve permanent.”
He snorted. “Yeah, right. That’s as likely to happen as it is that these people will get what they want. Be real, Val. This is the take-no-prisoners High Council.”
“Even they can change, Britton. If I didn’t believe that somewhere deep inside me, I wouldn’t be able to work for them. As for this case, I don’t believe for one minute the kidnappers truly want to expose shifters to the human world. They probably will if forced to, but surely this time limit comes from a place of hope. Hope that if they give the council enough time they will eventually wave the white flag. You need to hold on to some hope, too.”
He turned to look at her. “You really think so?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I do. Solve this case, and they have to see how valuable your abilities are to the shifter community. They wouldn’t dare take them away again.”
The bleak look on his face, the pain in his eyes, nearly broke her heart.
“I hope to hell you’re right.”
…
Val scrunched her nose at the two backpacks sitting by the front door now stuffed to near-bursting zipper with everything from food and water to clothes and camping gear. Britton apparently camped a lot. She’d left the packing to him as he’d expertly spread out everything that needed to go into each bag, then organized it all for easy access.
Returning from today’s hike, they’d found the package on the porch bearing the council’s distinctive seal. Britton had immediately ripped into it and drawn out two pieces of clothing. A blouse that belonged to Meagan, which smelled of spice cake, and a T-shirt from Ben, smelling of steeped tea leaves. Neither of which had been among the scents of the group in the woods. Britton hadn’t hidden his frustration at the confirmation that Samantha Mills’s extended family was not involved.
Which really left them with MASK.
But that still didn’t feel right to Val. Someone else must be behind all of this, but until they made visual contact, the scents were all they had.
Britton let Harwood know that the Mills family was in the clear. Val heard Harwood’s blustering from all the way across the room, wh
ich only increased when Britton informed him of the demands in the letter. The elder had refused to cave and told Britton he would continue on the case. The councilman swore they were working diligently on their end to find any possible leads that would aid in identifying the group involved, and actually thanked them for all the work they were doing on their end.
The councilman’s gratitude gave her hope that the reassurances she’d given Britton earlier might really happen for him.
“I suggest you enjoy a hot bath now,” he said. “It’ll be a couple of days before you have another one.”
She cringed at the idea of being without a shower for a couple of days. She wasn’t prissy, but roughing it was as appealing to her as eating a slug. Making a face, she asked, “How long do you think we’ll be out there?”
“Depends on which way the scents lead us. If we veer this way then we can come back to the cabin, but if it’s the opposite direction, we may be out there until Saturday.”
D-day. Great.
Okay, girl. Suck it up. Think of this as an adventure.
“If this is my last night of comfort for a while, I’m going to wallow in it.”
“Whatchya thinking?”
She winked. “There’s a hot tub that has been calling my name since we walked in the door on Monday afternoon.”
…
Hot tub?
Britton blinked as Val closed herself in the bedroom. And she didn’t even lock the door this time.
Oh, this was not good. Not good at all.
The last thing he needed was Val in a bathing suit. The tight workout pants she wore to hike in drove him nuts. Val practically naked would drive him right over the edge.
He wouldn’t look. He spun and stormed into the kitchen, keeping busy by surveying the contents of the fridge.
A few minutes later, the bedroom door opened.
Don’t look. Do. Not.
But he couldn’t stop his head from turning. A gust of relief shot past his lips. She was at least wrapped in a towel. Only the smooth skin of her bare shoulders and legs was visible to torture him. He could handle that.
Barely.
Completely unaware that she held his complete and undivided attention, she opened the door and went out onto the deck. He straightened, watching her. As she entered the chill of the night air, she hugged her arms around herself. Yeah, he’d like to be those arms right about now. Feel her back meet his chest. Her hair tease the skin of his shoulders.
