Their lips never parted. Not once.
Not when he entered her, not when she wrapped her legs around his lean waist. Not when he drove into her again and again and again. Not when she dug her nails into his flexing bottom, not even when she groaned her pleasure.
With their foreheads pressed together, they struggled to regain their breaths.
“Did I make your headache worse?”
“What headache?”
“Not funny, Randi. You could have a concussion.”
“It’s already feeling much better.” And it was. She kissed him again. No amount of pain would keep her from him. This.
“Hang on.”
Randi tightened her noodle-limp legs at the same time he lifted her from the counter. For a moment, she thought he would carry her to the bedroom and finish removing their clothing. But he just stood there, embedded inside her, his face huddled into the crook of her neck. Holding her.
The intimacy of the moment was beyond anything she’d ever experienced before. She had no words to describe the warmth that flooded her from the inside out. She wanted to stay like this, in his arms, forever.
Lifting his head, he met her gaze, and Randi knew what she felt for this man would last forever. She hoped she could survive the devastation he would wreak upon her one day.
An unapologetic grin formed on his thoroughly explored lips. “I only meant to leave you with an unforgettable kiss. Though I can’t say I’m sorry for the outcome.”
Randi gave him an answering smile and nuzzled his nose. “Neither can I. Maybe we should give it a retry.” She clenched her inner muscles and felt an answering shift deep inside her.
“I do like the way you think, Shepherd.” He took a step toward her bedroom and his eyes widened and flashed before his left arm gripped her hard and his right hand whirled blindly to the side. He arched his back, twisting, catapulting himself—and her—over the back of her sofa.
They landed in a heap, their breaths whooshing from their lungs.
Randi peered down at Britt’s scrunched-up face. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” he wheezed, holding his side. “Just…give me a second.”
“Britt, your ribs!” She tried to scramble away, but he held tight. “Let go, so that I can get off you.”
“Not a chance.” With effort, his face cleared. “Did you jar your head?”
“I’m fine. A little disoriented is all. Did I hurt you?”
“It’ll take more than a little thing like you to damage me.”
“I’m far from being little.” When she tried unlocking her ankles beneath him, he lifted his hips, lodging himself deeper inside her. Randi closed her eyes a moment. She forced back the deep ache and straightened into a sitting position. They were still locked at the waist. “What happened?”
At the rustling sound behind her, Randi twisted around to see Britt’s boots fanning back and forth, his jeans and briefs anchored around his ankles.
Eyes wide, she turned back to him. “Are you sure you didn’t strain something?”
“On the contrary”—his lips quivered and his eyes sparkled—“I’m feeling quite acrobatic.”
She contracted her inner muscles again. “Impressive.”
Britt groaned and rolled his hips, lengthening, pulsing, seeking the very center of her need. “I’m going to show you why it’s not a good idea for us to be friends anymore.”
26
“This is maybe a sore subject between us,” Randi said, “but I have to ask. Did you find out who killed Mellow?”
Britt flipped a thick patty over, careful not to splatter grease on his bare stomach, and added a square of provolone. After another bout of lovemaking, they’d hauled themselves out of bed and raided Randi’s kitchen for something to eat. At the island, Randi was busy cutting up vegetables for her salad while Britt went with a tried-and-true hamburger.
“Reid and I made a pass through the woods. The only thing we found were several traps.”
“Traps? For the wolves?”
“And anything else unlucky enough to step in the wrong place.” Britt scraped the medium-rare burger out of the skillet and transferred it to a bun. “Including people.”
“Do you think the person who killed Mellow also set the traps?”
“My gut tells me no.” Setting his plate down, he piled lettuce, bacon, tomato, pickle, onion—he glanced at Randi and decided against the last condiment—onto his burger. Then slathered the top bun with mayo and ketchup before adding it to the pile.
Randi raised a brow.
“What?”
“Quite the masterpiece you’ve got there.”
“Hamburger-making is an art form in the Steele household. Or, at least, in this household.” He nodded to her salad. “Please tell me you don’t eat like a bird all the time.”
She laughed. “No, but I do try to watch my calorie intake.”
“Good.” He carried his plate and a glass of ice water over to the breakfast table. “I can’t take all that chirping.”
Shaking her head, she sat next to him. She wore a long cream-colored sweater over a light green cami and darker green pajama bottoms. Her feet were bare and her beautiful hair was confined at the back of her head.
Most men would have preferred to see their new lover dressed in satin and lace and showing a whole lot more skin. But Randi’s casual after-sex attire made him feel welcome, at home. He hadn’t experienced any awkwardness while he was making himself comfortable in her kitchen. Everything seemed familiar, yet new and invigorating.
“Why do you think the trapper and hunter aren’t one and the same?”
“For the most part, they have two opposing interests. Traps are generally used for preserving pelts for resale, relocating an animal, or medical evaluations.” He bit into his burger.
She jabbed her fork into her salad. “Whereas, a hunter’s intention is either to kill for food or remove a nuisance animal.”
“Or to display the kill as a trophy.”
“Do you think the Carolina Club might be behind the incident?”
“After Reid and I met with them, I’m more sure than ever that they wanted your property in order to access the wolves. How they found out about them remains unanswered. But Mellow’s death—I’m not sure. They’re all seasoned hunters. It seems unlikely that they couldn’t track an injured wolf.”
“Why did you visit the club?”
“I hoped their egos would force them to brag about their exploits, but I underestimated Norwood and his cronies. Though he did confirm my suspicions about the property purchase, I suspect he did so to convey a threat more than anything else.”
“What sort of threat?”
“He wants me to know that he’s aware of the wolves’ existence.”
“But doesn’t that give the police something to go on?”
“Knowledge does not equal action. I’ll need more than a taunt to take to Maggie.”
“Maggie?”
“Sheriff Kingston. My cousin Maggie.”
“Ah, yes. I don’t think of her as Maggie.”
“And I have a hard time thinking of her as anything other than the little tyrant Maggie.”
Her smile turned nostalgic. “Having such a big family must be wonderful.”
“Sometimes. Other times, it’s like having gnats flying around your head all day.”
“Y’all love each other, though.” She moved cubes of tomatoes and squares of meat around her bowl. “That’s something to cherish.”
Britt covered her free hand with his. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent, even when they’re still alive and breathing. I had more time with my dad than my siblings did and I remember what it felt like to be loved by him.” He caressed her knuckles with his thumb, hoping he wasn’t botching this. Advice wasn’t his forte. “However, he’s broken my trust in irrevocable ways.” His hold tightened. “I mourn him in the same vein you mourned your mom before she died. But we can’t allow the disappointments of the past
to shape our future, to stop us from living the life we deserve.”
Randi’s chin quivered and her lips thinned. Tears gathered in her eyes. “Other than what I pried out of you the other night, you haven’t spoken much about your dad.”
“I’ve spent almost two decades of my life angry and searching for a reason for his reclusiveness and, ultimately, his abandonment.” Britt raked the back of his finger down her damp cheek. “Not until you did I have the courage to set it all aside.”
“Me?” she whispered.
“You.” How to explain what he’d only recently discovered? “I saw in you—the hurt, the anger, the confusion—everything I struggled with for years, and realized none of it made a bit of difference. I still don’t know why my dad made the choices he did and probably never will. And for the first time, in a very long time, I’m okay with that.” He stared into her glistening green eyes. “Because all my energy, all that I am belongs to you. If you’ll have it. Have me.”
Britt’s mind shut down while he waited for Randi’s response. Not a single synapse sparked, and he didn’t replay his words, editing every syllable ad nauseam. He waited in suspended silence. Though he might have sent up a little prayer; he couldn’t recall.
He willed her to say something, anything. But nothing emerged. She stared. He waited.
Her continued lack of communication jumpstarted his brain and doubt crept in. “Randi?”
“You’ve left me unable to form a single word. A first, I think.”
If he explained to her what other women might have said when their partner professed his feelings, he would be suspicious of any affirmative response. No one wanted a coerced profession of affection. And she wouldn’t appreciate being nudged into saying something so important if she didn’t feel the same.
What to do? What to do?
Acting as though he’d never laid his heart out on the kitchen table seemed the safest option. He nodded toward her half-eaten salad. “All done?” Not waiting for an answer, he headed to the sink with his dirty dishes.
“Britt—”
The chime of a dying organ echoed through the house. Randi squinted toward the front door.
“You expecting anyone?” he asked.
“No.”
A knock followed the doorbell. “Britt, I know you’re in there. Open up. I need to speak with you.”
“Who is it?” Randi asked.
Britt bit back a curse. “Jonah.” He marched into the bedroom and threw on his jeans. “I’ll get rid of him.” He opened the door enough to speak with his brother, but not enough for Jonah to see Randi. “What?”
“This is longer than a thirty-second conversation.” Jonah adjusted the wide strap cutting across his torso. “Let me in.”
“Not good timing, Jonah. I’ll catch up with you at my cabin in thirty minutes.”
Jonah eyed his bare chest and feet. “Sorry for interrupting, but this can’t wait. Randi should hear what I have to say.”
Jonah appeared as unaffected by the world around him as ever, but the hint of concern hardening his features gave Britt pause. “This had better not be some prank Reid put you up to.”
“Reid doesn’t even know I’m here.” Jonah craned his neck to look over Britt’s shoulder. “Randi, will you tell stud man to let me in? I have something important to share with you.”
“Britt, it’s okay.”
Stepping back, Britt pushed open the door. “Remember, I know where you live.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
Without saying a word, Jonah dug his laptop out of his messenger bag and placed it on the kitchen table. He retrieved his AC adaptor and plugged it into an outlet, then his computer. Next came a wireless mouse.
Britt slid into the chair opposite Jonah. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Jonah didn’t acknowledge his comment. His fingers flew a thousand miles an hour across his keyboard.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Randi asked.
“A glass of water. Tap is fine.”
Britt thrummed his fingers on the table. Even during the best of times, he wasn’t a patient man. When he had a declaration hanging in the air like poisonous gas, his threshold for interruptions and silence reached a gut-sinking low.
“Jonah, out with it.”
“Ten more seconds.”
Randi set Jonah’s glass of water down before taking the seat next to Britt’s. They shared a glance, and Britt shook his head. He should be grateful for his brother’s arrival. Jonah had saved him the humiliation of Randi’s response. “You’re a nice guy and all, but it’s way too soon to know if this is love.”
No shit, Sherlock. Although he’d been aware of her for months, she’d only come to know him in the past week or so. Sweet Pete. She must think him insane.
A small hand moved down his thigh to rest on his knee. Warmth penetrated his jeans, awakening a part of him that should not even be alive after their bout of lovemaking. He sent Randi a questioning look. She gave him a reassuring smile.
He squeezed her hand in return. “We’ve waited well past ten seconds. Spill it now, or I’m going to tell Mom you’re the one eating her caramel sea salt ice cream, not Reid.”
“That’s low, man.” He tapped the enter key. “Once you see this, you’re going to be a lot nicer to me.” He flipped his laptop around, facing them.
Britt stared down at the small screen, not comprehending what Jonah wanted him to see at first. Then he noticed the play symbol in the midst of a busy background.
Giving his brother a dark look, Britt said, “If this isn’t legit, I’m kicking your ass all the way back to the Hill.”
Rather than be intimidated, his brother rolled his eyes. “One of these days, you’re going to wake up and see I’m not a kid anymore.”
Randi reached forward, moving her finger over the trackpad until the cursor lined up with the Play button. She glanced at Britt, and he nodded.
The video began to play, the grainy green image indecipherable at first. Then the camera adjusted, and Britt could make out a wooden lean-to in the background and patchy grass in the foreground. The camera panned out, and he could see a chain-link fence enclosed the entire area. Inside the fence, a pair of canid eyes reflected back at him.
Randi sucked in a breath.
Britt’s teeth clamped together so hard he feared they would break. His gaze shot to Jonah’s. “What is this?”
“Live video feed of a red wolf.”
“Where’s the broadcast coming in from?”
“That’s the million-dollar question.”
“How did you come across this video?” Randi asked.
“I hacked into the Carolina Club’s network. They need to get a new IT person. Their firewall was scary easy to breach.”
“Why?” Britt asked.
“You mentioned that some of the members kept scorecards of their trophies.” He shrugged. “That made me curious, so I poked around their website until I came across a Members Only login.” He took a drink of his water. “Locks and Do Not Enter signs on the Internet are like tubs of caramel sea salt ice cream. Too tempting to resist. So I don’t.”
Covering his mouth with one hand and leaning back in his chair, Britt folded an arm over his middle while he followed the wolf’s anxious pacing. The kennel appeared to be about ten by ten, and from the condition of the turf and the makeshift den, this wasn’t the first time the kennel had been used to hold an animal captive.
“Did you find the scorecards?” Britt asked.
“Yep. Looks like anyone who hits six hundred kills becomes a Master Marksman.”
“Six hundred animals?” Randi asked.
Jonah nodded. “Norwood’s one kill away, and several others are on his tail.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
“Do you think that’s one of our wolves?” Randi asked.
Her use of “our” lightened his heavy heart for a brief moment. “The video quality is such that I can’t be a hundred percent, but I’ll
venture a guess and say yes.”
“Britt, I’m so sorry.” She placed a comforting hand on his arm. “Is the wolf limping?”
His stomach roiled. “Looks like Reid and I missed a trap.”
“Hit the escape key,” Jonah said.
Randi did so and the video contracted to a small square in the center of a page. A page detailing how members could bid for the opportunity to hunt a rare female red wolf.
Reducing the size of the video improved the quality. Britt leaned in, squinting. He slammed his fist on the table. “Those sons of bitches.”
“What?” Randi asked, focusing harder on the wolf. “What do you see?”
“Calypso. One half of the Steele-Shepherd breeding pair.”
* * *
Horrified, Randi’s gaze cut from Britt to the detested video. “The pups’ mother?”
Grim-faced, Britt nodded.
“I don’t understand.”
“Auctions bring in a lot of revenue for hunt clubs,” Britt said in a low, dangerous tone. “I’ve read some statistics where over sixty percent of the operating fund comes from auctioning off permits to hunt rare or endangered animals.”
“What do we do now?” she asked.
“According to the page, members have until three o’clock tomorrow afternoon to place their bids. Then the GPS coordinates of the release point will be sent to the winner’s phone.” Britt gripped the back of his skull with both hands. “Without the coordinates, we’re dead in the water.”
“There must be something we can do,” Randi insisted, her heart aching for both Calypso and Britt. “Why don’t we hunt down a list of all the properties owned by the club.”
“Assuming they snatched Calypso within an hour of Reid and I visiting the den site, they’ve had a good twenty-four hours of drive time. That’s a vast expanse of property to search.”
“Do you think the pups have been without food for that long?”
“They’ve been spending more and more time outside of the den, which means Calypso was beginning to wean them. If the pack hasn’t already started doing so, they’ll introduce them to solid food through regurgitation.”
“Dude, you could have stopped at ‘solid food.’” Jonah’s thumb tap-danced across his phone’s screen.
Loving Deep: Steele Ridge Series Page 22
