by Pamela Clare
Moretti shook his head. “I’ve never experienced wind like that.”
Hawke grinned. “How are the family jewels?”
“Fine.” Moretti cleared his throat. “We had to straddle the rock.”
A chorus of “Ohs” went up as understanding dawned.
This was followed by snorts and guffaws.
“I wonder what happened to the other guy—the partner who took off with the money.” Ahearn stood, went to pour himself another cup of coffee. “He wouldn’t just leave it there.”
“No way,” Moretti agreed. “I’ve never seen so much cash.”
“I’m so glad you all made it back safely.” Nicole sat on the floor next to Conrad and petted Gizmo. “I can’t imagine how scary that must have been for Kenzie to be up there alone with that son of a bitch.”
Belcourt, who’d sat quietly off to one side with Naomi and Winona, finally spoke. “She was never alone. We were with her the entire time.”
“Mr. Conrad?”
Conrad looked over his shoulder to see Wendy from the newspaper standing there with a camera and notepad.
Ah, hell.
“I was just sitting over there and heard what you shared with everyone. Can I ask you a few questions? About the rescue, I mean. I thought SWAT called it off.”
“They did, so the Team took over.” Megs stood. “I’d be happy to answer your questions. Is there somewhere we can go where we won’t disturb everyone?”
Conrad knew that Megs had already spent hours this morning being debriefed by the sheriff and SWAT. They had chewed her out for interfering with a law enforcement operation. To hear her tell it, she had laughed in their faces.
“As I recall, you all tucked tail and ran when the snow started to fall,” she’d said. “I think the right words are, ‘You’re welcome.’ This is why the Team exists—to save lives. If we had done this on your timetable, Kenzie would be dead.”
Law enforcement would want to talk to him and Kenzie when she was up to it.
Conrad waited with his fellow Team members for almost an hour before Dr. Warren reappeared, a grin on his face.
“Good news. We got the bullet, and she’s going to be fine. She’ll be sore for a while, but she should have no permanent damage.” The doctor rested a hand on Conrad’s shoulder. “She’s asking for you.”
“Can I bring the dogs? It will mean so much to her.”
Dr. Warren didn’t look thrilled with the idea. “That’s fine—but one at a time.”
Conrad followed Dr. Warren back to recovery, Gizmo at his heel.
“She’s in here.”
Conrad found her dozing and sat in the chair beside her bed, waiting for her to wake up. Gizmo whined and strained at his leash, excited to see her.
“Hold on, buddy.”
Kenzie’s eyes fluttered open. “Harrison?”
“I’m right here.” He got to his feet, holding tightly to Gizmo’s leash. “Someone else is here, too.”
Gizmo whimpered and would have jumped onto her bed if Conrad hadn’t restrained him. In the end, Conrad let him stand with his front paws next to her.
“Gizmo!” Kenzie’s face lit up. “I’m so happy to see you. How’s my sweet boy?”
Clearly out of his doggy mind to be reunited with her, Gizmo whined and licked her, his entire back end wagging.
“I’m so sorry, Gizmo.” Her eyes filled with tears. “You were very brave. You would have stayed with me until you died. I know you would have.”
“He loves you.” Conrad kissed her cheek. “So do I.”
Chapter 24
Kenzie was discharged the next afternoon and went home to recover. Every muscle in her body was sore from adrenaline and exertion, and her thigh hurt like hell. Although she was dressed warmly, she couldn’t seem to feel warm.
Harrison helped her up her front stairs, opening the door and standing back while she made her way inside on crutches. She stopped in the doorway and stared.
There were bouquets sitting on every visible surface—the kitchen counter, the table, window sills, her coffee table.
“Oh!” She looked up at Harrison. “Who sent these?”
He chuckled. “I think literally everyone. There are bouquets upstairs, too. I’m running out of places to put them.”
“That’s so sweet. My house looks like a flower shop.” It smelled like one, too, the soft scents of roses, lilies, and freesia infusing the air.
“People in this town love you.” He helped her get out of her coat and settled her on the sofa, her leg elevated, a warm fleece throw tucked in around her.
The bouquet on the coffee table was enormous with three dozen red roses in a lovely crystal vase.
“Who sent that? It’s beautiful.”
“That’s from me.” He sat beside her, took her hand. “I love you most of all.”
“That’s so sweet of you.”
He raised her hand to his lips. “Welcome home.”
The next few days were a mix of wonderful and terrible. Wonderful because Harrison was right there, telling her he loved her, watching over her. Terrible because her ordeal seemed to have left its mark on her.
He took care of the dogs, kept a warm fire going, made meals, answered the door, took calls, brought her water and pain pills, did the grocery shopping and all the household chores. He also found creative ways the two of them could have sex without hurting her injured leg.
“You’re spoiling me.” She snuggled against his bare chest.
He stroked her hair. “Damn straight, I am.”
But, although it was good to be home, she couldn’t lose the feeling that something terrible was going to happen at any minute. Her second night home, she started having nightmares about Don shooting Gizmo and leaving him to die in the snow. It had seemed so real, and she’d woken up sobbing.
Conrad had held her, stroked her hair. “It’s over. Gizmo is fine. Because of you, he’s okay. Do you want to see him?”
She sniffed, nodded. “But it’s against the rules to let him sleep in the bed.”
“Screw the rules.” Harrison got up, walked downstairs, and returned with Gizmo and Gabby, both of whom gleefully jumped onto the bed, tails wagging.
“Hey, you two, leave room for me.” Harrison nudged Gizmo over. “Come on, buddy. That’s my spot. She’s my woman.”
That made Kenzie laugh.
It might have been silly, but it made a real difference to be able to reach out in the middle of the night and feel Gizmo safe and alive nearby.
Conrad had his troubles to face, too. He’d begun having sessions with Esri once a week. She had diagnosed him with post-traumatic stress, which was hard for him to accept, not because he didn’t see himself as human, but because he had always associated PTSD with those who’d served in the military—true heroes, he called them. Though he often came home from his sessions drained, his nightmares had stopped.
He seemed to find some peace, too, in donating all the money from the two interviews he’d done to the fund that the climbing community had set up for Bruce’s widow and children.
“Bruce would have liked that,” Kenzie told him.
“Bruce would think I was nuts.” Harrison laughed, then took on an Aussie accent. “You’re crackers, mate, completely mental.”
Halloween came and went, but Kenzie felt strangely detached from it all—the fall fun, the change of seasons. She got her stitches out, and she was able to ditch the crutches, though walking was still painful.
That following Monday, she felt strong enough to go back to work. Though she knew Don was dead—the Team had been toned out the afternoon after her surgery to retrieve his body—she felt ill at ease at the kennel. It was her property, her business, a place she had always felt safe. Now, her sense of safety was shattered.
Worse than that, Don the Dickhead’s partner still hadn’t been found. Harrison and Hawke believed he was dead up there somewhere and would melt out in the spring, but no one knew for certain.
“I can
’t shake the feeling that he’s going to come after Gizmo and me,” she told Harrison over dinner one night. “Because of us, he lost the money he stole.”
Harrison reached across the table, took her hand. “I’ve been talking with Herrera. We’re going to install some security upgrades at the kennel.”
“I can’t afford that right now.” She had lots of holiday reservations on the books, but she needed that money to ease the cash-flow crunch of slower months.
“Who said anything about you paying for it? You don’t have to worry about money now.”
“But you can’t—”
He pressed his fingers to her lips, stilling her. “It’s my money. I risked my neck to earn it. If I want to spend it on you, let me.”
The weekend following Halloween, Harrison and Creed put in bullet-resistant glass doors and windows and a new lock system that required a key card to enter the kennel. They also installed a security door between the store and the kennel that also required a key card. The store was still open to the public, but the rest of the facility, including the classroom, was effectively on lockdown.
They also made some improvements to her house, installing deadbolts and a new security system.
“Thanks, guys. I feel safer.”
But when the nightmares and anxiety didn’t abate, Kenzie knew there was only one thing she could do. Call Esri and ask for help.
Conrad stood on the summit of Eagle Ridge looking down at the resort’s double-black runs and glades, ready for his ski test. It was his fifth day of training. So far this day was much better than the others, which had been spent indoors in meetings.
Conrad adjusted his goggles and his hold on his poles, waiting for Matt to give him the go-ahead.
“Sorry about this.” Matt gave a helpless shrug. “I know you can ski well, but the insurance company demands that we test everyone.”
“Hey, I don’t mind. I’m getting paid to ski.”
Matt chuckled then pressed a finger to his earpiece. “They’re set, so whenever you’re ready…”
Other patrollers and staff were spread out on the mountain, some to evaluate him and some because they just wanted to watch him ski.
That was fine by him.
“See you at the bottom.” Conrad pushed off with his poles, shot out over the edge, and was off.
Sunshine. Wind and powder in his face. Fresh air.
This did not suck.
He tore down Silver Bullet, a double-black diamond, traversed to Snow in Summer, and flew through the glades, taking face shots all the way. He emerged from the trees, connected with Silver Bullet again, catching air on the moguls.
Sweet.
Hell, yeah, he could do this job—at least for a while.
All too soon it was over.
He edged to a stop, the sound of cheers and applause drifting down from above.
Moretti, who had already finished his test, walked over to him. “Show-off.”
“Are they always like this—cheering and shit?”
“Nah, man. I think they all have a crush on you, even the guys. You ought to tell them all you’re taken, or you’re going to spend the season fending off women.”
Conrad snorted. “Give me a break.”
Then again, he had been asked to sign a lot of autographs this week.
Jesse turned his tips toward the lodge. “Let’s grab some lunch while we can.”
Over sandwiches and coffee, Moretti talked about the different runs and shared Ski Patrol traditions. “At the end of the day, we all stay in our gear until everyone is off the mountain. When the last patroller is in, we all crack a brew and celebrate.”
“I like it.”
The other patrollers joined them one by one as they finished their tests. Conrad was still learning their names.
“Great run, Conrad. You’ve really skied Everest?” This was Amanda.
Conrad nodded.
“Sick, dude.” That was Travis.
“Where did you learn to ski?” Christa sat beside him, leaning a little too close.
“Alaska. I grew up on a homestead in the Brooks Range.”
“That’s hardcore.” That guy was Doug.
No, Doug was digging through the fridge. That was Steve.
Moretti got up from the table and walked out of the room.
“I would love to ski Alaska.” Christa touched Conrad’s arm. “If you take a trip there, count me in.”
Maybe Moretti was right about this crush thing.
Conrad didn’t know how to answer. “Well…”
Matt stepped into the room, interrupting Conrad. “It won’t surprise you all to know you passed. Insurance requirements have now been met.”
Then Moretti’s voice came over the PA system. “Attention all staff, Conrad has a serious girlfriend. I repeat, Conrad has a serious girlfriend.”
Conrad froze, coffee cup in hand.
Moretti, I’m going to kick your ass.
Christa flushed pink and scooted away. “Why did he do that? We’re just talking.”
Conrad took a sip of coffee to hide his grin.
“So then Moretti gets on the PA system and says, ‘Attention all staff, Conrad has a serious girlfriend. I repeat, Conrad has a serious girlfriend.’”
Kenzie had just taken a drink and almost choked laughing. “No way!”
“Then she scooted away from me and pretended like she hadn’t been trying to flirt. I was going to kick Moretti’s butt, but I think maybe I owe him.”
Kenzie caught her breath. “Or maybe I owe him.”
Conrad leaned forward, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Are you jealous?”
“Not at all.” She dabbed her lips, set her napkin aside. “You didn’t cross the Knife Blade of Death in a blizzard to save her life. You did that for me.”
That’s true.” His lips curved in a lopsided grin. “How was your day? How did your session with Esri go?”
“Pretty well. She’s given me some ways of coping when I feel anxious and afraid.” It was good just to know that Kenzie didn’t have to deal with this alone.
But she had more important news to share.
“I have something to tell you. I hope it will make you happy.” She put on a straight face. “I went to my OB-GYN last week.”
His brow furrowed—then his eyes went wide. “You’re not … are you? I mean … you can’t be … But if you are, that’s okay. I’ll be here with you.”
God, he was sweet.
“I got an IUD.” Just in case he didn’t understand what that meant, she leaned forward and whispered. “No more condoms.”
He grinned. “Oh, you little scamp.”
She picked up her napkin, threw it at him, and ran for the stairs. Her leg was still sore, making her limp, slowing her down. But speed wasn’t the point.
She heard his chair scoot from the table, heard his heavy footfalls on the floor, and was swept up in his arms, laughing.
He swung her over his shoulder, gave her a smack on the butt. “You know just what to say to make me hard.”
He carried her to the bedroom, set her on her feet, the two of them shedding their clothes as quickly as they could. They fell to the bed together, rolling, lips finding lips, hands seeking sensitive skin, looking for ways to please. He knew her so well, knew what she loved, what drove her crazy. Licking and sucking her nipples. Stroking her clit right there. Sliding his fingers deep inside her.
“Now.”
He raised himself up, his gaze meeting hers as he settled himself between her thighs. She reached down, guiding him as he buried his cock inside her.
He groaned, his big body covering hers. “Fuck. You feel … so good.”
There was no latex now, no chemicals, no artificial lubrication, nothing to separate the two of them as he moved in and out of her, driving deep.
Kenzie wrapped her legs around him, pressed her heels into the shifting muscles of his ass, opening herself fully to him, urging him on. “God, yes.”
It felt so g
ood. He felt so good, thick and hard inside her.
He shifted his hips to ride her high, stroking her clit with his cock, stretching her, filling her. She moaned his name, her nails digging into his back. Every thrust brought her closer to climax, leaving her desperate.
She cried out, pleasure washing over her, a tide of luminous bliss.
But he was right there with her. “I love you, Kenzie. God, I love you.”
He groaned, coming apart in her arms, spilling himself inside her.
Conrad shoved the last box of his shit into Kenzie’s truck. “That’s it.”
Mrs. Beech’s house had finally sold. He and Kenzie had talked about it, and they had agreed that it was time they quit pretending that he had his own place. He was always at her house, so why not make it official? Most of his stuff was already there. Though he had more than enough money in savings to buy some showy mountain home for the two of them and the dogs, he knew it was important to her to live next to her business.
Besides, he liked her house. There were a few things that needed fixing—the Victorian trim, the roof, back steps—but he liked projects. It was homey and charming and had room for his gear and a couple of spare rooms for guests—or maybe kids one day. Not that he was making plans or anything.
He shut the tailgate and closed the topper.
“Are you leaving?” His neighbor stood on her front lawn in a bright yellow housedress and pink frilly apron. “I was just getting used to having you here.”
Conrad chuckled. “The house sold. It’s time for me to move on.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” the woman said. “You’re the most interesting neighbor I’ve had. Take care of Miss Morgan. Yes, I know you’re moving in with her. The two of you are all kissy-kissy. I might be eighty-two, but I still remember what it was like to be young and horny and in love.”
Conrad and Kenzie exchanged a glance, both trying not to laugh.
Conrad grabbed the box of chocolates from the front seat of Kenzie’s truck and carried them to the old woman. “These are for you. Take care, ma’am. If you ever need help around your place, give Kenzie’s kennel a call. I’d be happy to help.”
