by LENA DIAZ,
And nothing but a few rocks and trees to hide behind.
She grabbed a bottle of water and a bandana from the backpack and gently wiped away the blood on his leg. Thankfully, the stitches had done their job. The bleeding had stopped. Her next worry was infection. She’d sprayed the disinfectant on it throughout the process. And she sprayed it liberally one more time before carefully rolling gauze around his calf.
Once that was done, she pulled a clean sock up over the wound to help protect it. After another quick check to make sure he was still breathing, she worked his boot back on. She almost gave up, but knowing it would probably hurt like crazy if he was awake for the procedure, she persevered until the boot was in place.
She put everything into one of the baggies in his backpack, remembering the “take nothing, leave nothing” mantra the commercials were always touting to tourists. Then she sat beside him and wondered what to do next. Shouldn’t he have woken up by now? She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. It seemed normal, as far as she could tell. No sign of fever. Not yet, anyway. So why wasn’t he waking up?
She shook his shoulders. “Adam, it’s Jody. Adam, can you hear me?” She shook him again, then sat back and looked around. There were a few trees close by, and the group of boulders he was lying beside. But it wasn’t enough to make her feel safe by any means. And she hated for him to be so vulnerable. Maybe she could pull him behind the boulders at least? It would block anyone’s view from the woods back where they’d emerged when running from Tattoo Guy. It was worth a try.
A few minutes later, she gave up. A five-foot featherweight like her just wasn’t going to be able to drag tall, dark and gorgeous anywhere. It was hopeless. She thought about trying to roll him, but she was worried she’d hurt his leg. There was only one other thing she could think to do—guard him. She pulled the pistol out of his pocket. It was a Ruger, not a brand she’d ever owned or shot before. But it was similar to the Glock she had in the safe at her apartment. It was small enough to fit comfortably in her hand.
After unloading it, she dry fired it a few times. Not the best thing for the gun. But she wanted to be familiar with the trigger pull, see how hard she had to squeeze to make it shoot. It was a little trickier than her own gun, but not overly difficult.
She loaded it again and dug the two extra magazines of ammo from the bottom of the backpack and put them in her pocket. Then she scooted her back against the boulder beside Adam’s unconscious form.
Clutching the pistol with both hands, she rested it in her lap, sitting cross-legged on the ground. Then she stared toward the woods, and waited.
Chapter Ten
Blinding, sharp pain shot through Adam’s body. He jerked upright, clawing for the pistol holstered on his belt. It wasn’t there. He shoved his hands in his pockets, desperately searching for his weapon.
“Whoa, whoa, Adam, stop. You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
His hands clutched nothing but emptiness in his pockets. He blinked in confusion at the beautiful woman kneeling in front of him. Thick red hair formed a messy, wavy halo around her heart-shaped face, falling to just below her shoulders. Her blouse was partly undone, revealing a lacy bra and the delicious upper curves of her breasts. His mouth watered as his gaze traveled to her full, pink lips, which were curved in a smile as she leaned close.
“Sorry for thumping your leg. You’d slept so long. I was getting worried and thought that might be the only way to wake you up. Looks like it worked.” She smiled sheepishly, then her smile faded. “Adam? It’s me. Jody. Don’t you recognize me?”
He watched her lips move like a blind man seeking the light.
She put her hand on his shoulder and leaned in closer. “Adam?”
It was all the invitation he needed. He wrapped one arm around her waist, sank the other deep into her fall of gorgeous red hair and pulled her mouth to his. Her lips parted on a gasp, and he groaned, tasting their honeyed sweetness and delving deeper inside.
She was so hot and sweet and soft. He tasted and treasured her mouth, ran his hand down her back, down the sexy curve of her bottom, wanting her with a desperation that didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. He didn’t know how he’d gotten here or why this woman—Jody—was in his bed. But he wasn’t going to complain or waste the opportunity.
She moaned deep in her throat and clutched his shoulders. Then, finally, she was kissing him back. For such a tiny thing, she was full of passion and exploded like a firecracker in his arms. Her breasts crushed against his chest, and she threaded her hands through his hair, her tongue dueling with his.
He shuddered and caressed her through her shorts. She jerked against him. For a moment he thought she might push him away. But then she was kissing him again. His body hardened painfully. He couldn’t take this much longer. He had to have her. Now. He slid his hands back to her blouse and fumbled with the buttons. She was too close. His big hands couldn’t maneuver between them and he was afraid he’d rip the fabric.
He broke the kiss and drew a ragged breath as he gently pushed her back so he could finish taking off her shirt. Deep green eyes stared back at him in wonder over green-framed glasses perched crookedly on her nose. A delightful smattering of freckles marched across her flushed cheeks as her gaze dropped to his lips. He undid one button, then another, then he stopped.
A pistol lay discarded on the ground between them, cradled between her thighs. He frowned. That wasn’t his pistol. He looked at his utility belt and saw the radio, its cracked screen glinting in the fading light. Fading light? He leaned back and looked around. Little puffs of white mist dotted the mountains all around them, looking like signals from some Indian campfire of old. The Smoky Mountains. They were outside, in the middle of the Smokies. And the sun was going down?
He made a more careful inspection of their surroundings, noting they were out in the open, in a bald near the foothills. His legs were stretched out in front of him. His lap was full of gorgeous redhead. And his left leg was shooting hot jolts of lava up his calf. He winced and bent to the side to see why it hurt. White gauze was wrapped around it just above where his boot ended. The whole lower part of his pants was gone, the hem ragged and ripped, like someone had torn it, or sawed it with a serrated knife.
“Adam?” Her husky voice made his body jerk in response, blood heating his veins, scorching him from the inside out. Good grief, this woman was sexy. He drew a deep breath and turned back toward her.
And blinked.
Recognition slammed into him. Everything clicked together. The hazy fog of lust cleared instantly, and his mouth dropped open in shock. “Jody?”
Her perfectly shaped brows arched in confusion. “Adam? Why are you...” Her eyes widened, a look of horror crossing her face. “You didn’t know it was me?”
He stared at her, his face flushing with guilty heat. “I...I knew there was a beautiful woman—”
She scrambled off his lap, smooth toned arms and glorious legs flailing awkwardly in her rush to get away from him. One of her legs slammed into his left calf. Fire ripped through his body. He sucked in a breath and jerked back, clenching his jaw to keep from shouting.
“Oh no, your leg. I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.”
She reached for him, but he shook his head and held a hand up to stop her. “Don’t.” His voice was a harsh croak, the pain so intense he couldn’t say anything else. He drew several deep breaths, holding as still as possible, waiting, hoping the pain would ease its grip.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered miserably, her eyes looking suspiciously bright, like she was holding back tears.
On a scale of one to ten, his pain was about fifty-two. He rode it out, his fingers clawing at the dirt, panting like a wounded animal. Darkness wavered at the edges of his vision. But he couldn’t give in. He realized he must have passed out before, when he’d pulled out the piece of wood embedded in his leg. Thankfully, their pur
suers hadn’t come back yet or they’d be dead. Or maybe not. As the pain began to ease to about a thirty, he noted Jody had grabbed the gun, expertly holding it with her finger on the frame, not the trigger, pointing it away from him.
“You’ve...” He cleared his gritty throat and tried again. “You’ve fired guns before. You know how...how to handle them.”
He tried to focus on her rather than the pain. Had he noticed how beautiful her hair was before? It was fire red and hung in thick waves past her shoulders.
She looked down at the pistol in her hand and frowned. “Well, yes. Of course I know how to handle guns. Once I left home and went to college, I was determined to never be a victim again, so I...” Her eyes widened, as if she’d just realized what she’d let slip. “I mean, that I would never become a victim, so I learned about guns and—”
“Jody? Who hurt you?”
She looked away. “I never said anyone hurt me.”
“You mentioned your family before, that you weren’t close. Did one of them—”
“I’m really sorry about your leg,” she blurted out, obviously desperate to change the subject. “Is it feeling any better? I didn’t mean to bump it. I’m so sorry.”
“Stop.” The fire in his left leg was bearable now, a paltry eleven or twelve. He let out a shuddering breath. “Stop apologizing all the time. All the bad in the world isn’t your fault or your responsibility. Okay?”
She nodded but didn’t look like she believed him. “I didn’t mean to hit your leg just then. Earlier I did—just a tiny nudge, though. I was worried about you and wanted to wake you...” Her voice trailed off, and her gaze fell to his lips. Her pink tongue darted out to moisten her mouth.
His entire body clenched. He forced himself to look away from the tempting little siren. And just how had that happened anyway? How had she gone from being the young, barely-out-of-college girl to a sexy, mature woman who could tempt a saint? He must have a fever. That was it. It was the only explanation. Jody was far too pure and innocent and sweet for a jaded man like him.
“Make me laugh.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Make me laugh. Say something funny.” When she continued to look blankly at him, he said, “The pain, to take my mind off the pain. Tell me something funny.” What he really needed to do was take his mind off how sexy she was. He clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her.
Her brow furrowed in concentration, as if he’d asked her to calculate some complex scientific equation instead of trying to come up with a lame joke. Didn’t she ever laugh? Or really smile and have fun? He found himself craving her smile and laughter even more than he craved her body.
And that was saying something.
“Peter, Patricia, Patience, Patrick and Paul,” she blurted out.
He waited for the punch line. “Picked a peck of pickled peppers?”
She frowned. “No. The names. Peter, Patricia, Patience, Patrick and Paul. Those are the names of my adoptive father and my adoptive sisters and brothers.”
“Wait, seriously?”
She nodded, looking even more serious than she had a few moments earlier.
“What’s your adoptive mother’s name? Penelope?”
She shook her head. “Her name is Amelia.”
Adam threw his head back and laughed. He laughed so hard he got a stitch in his side. Then Jody had to ruin it by smiling, a genuine, real smile that reached her gorgeous green eyes and made her so beautiful he ached. Again. Oh, how he wanted her, needed her. He sobered and stared at her, his breath hitching when he noticed the tantalizing display she obviously wasn’t aware that she was offering. “Jody. Your blouse is, ah, gaping a bit.”
She didn’t even look down at her shirt. “So?”
His mouth was watering, just from that one glimpse of heaven he’d had, before he’d forced himself to look up, at her face. She obviously hadn’t understood what he was trying to tell her. “I can see...ah...your...your bra is...showing.”
“In case you didn’t notice, I was letting you unbutton my blouse earlier. I’m well aware of the state of my clothes. You may have temporarily lost your mind, forgetting who I was. But I didn’t. And I’m not ashamed of that. You’re a gorgeous guy. And I like you, a lot. Okay, a whole lot. I wouldn’t mind picking up where we left off.”
His mouth fell open. He snapped it closed.
“What?” She sounded angry this time, on top of being frustrated. “Does that shock you?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, yes, actually, it does. A little. You’re so, so...”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m so what?”
“Young,” he blurted out.
Her expression changed to one of confusion. “I’m twenty-four. Yes, I’m young. But I’m not that young. I’m a full-grown woman, Adam. Not some child. Where on earth did you get this hang-up about women who are younger than you?”
He scrubbed the stubble on his face, wondering just how this conversation had turned so bizarre. “You’re right.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “When we met, I got it in my head that you were much younger than you are, and I didn’t for a second imagine ever, well, being attracted to you.”
She stiffened.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “Don’t get insulted now. There can’t be any doubt about the state of my attraction for you at this point.” He waved at his overly tight pants and his still-painful erection. “I think we crossed that barrier about the time you stuck your tongue down my throat.”
She made a choking sound, her eyes wide. She coughed, then covered her mouth with her hands. He had the crazy suspicion that she was laughing at him and didn’t want him to know. Likely she was trying to spare his feelings. Because that would be typical for someone who felt guilty over everything from global warming to La Niña and everything else she had no control over.
“I want you, okay?” he gritted out. “And the age thing isn’t the problem anymore. The problem, if there is one, is that you’re too nice.”
Her hand fell to her lap. “I’m too nice? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re too pure, too sweet, too...nice. You deserve someone way better than me. I’d destroy everything good about you. I’d destroy you. You don’t want me.”
“I don’t?” She sounded suspiciously like she wanted to laugh again. “Because you’ll ruin me? That’s a bit old-fashioned of you. Besides, I’m not a virgin, Adam.”
Something dark passed in her eyes, but it was gone too quickly for him to be sure what he’d seen. Pain? Anger? Resentment? At who? Him, or someone in her past?
“Jody, I’m sorry if I offended you, or hurt you. I didn’t—”
“Stop apologizing.” She parroted his earlier words back at him. “It’s not like I was asking for a long-term commitment.” She pulled the edges of her blouse together. “We were just two adults who were about to have fun.” She looked wistfully at his lap. “A lot of fun. But the moment has passed. And I think that ship has definitely sailed.”
His hands curled against his thighs. It was either that or grab her and prove that the ship had definitely not sailed. This ridiculous conversation had only done one thing to his appetite for her—whet it.
She pushed herself up and wiped dirt off her legs before straightening. “I need a moment of privacy. When I come back, we’ll work on a plan to get out of here and back to civilization.”
What should have been a dramatic exit when she whirled around to leave was ruined when she tripped on a tree root. Her arms cartwheeled and she managed to regain her balance without falling. Her spine snapped ramrod straight and her face was flaming red when she once again turned her back on him and marched off to the nearest stand of trees.
Adam groaned and dropped his head to his chest. Everything about this day, from the moment he’d stepped on the Sugarland Mountain Trail,
was a disaster. And every attempt he made to fix it only seemed to make things worse.
He shook his head. He wouldn’t let anything happen to the complicated, intriguing, sexy redhead who’d just declared that she was no longer interested in him. It was just as well. Because he needed to focus, to figure out a plan. They needed to alert someone about Tracy, get them searching for her. Which meant he needed to be fully mobile and find that defensible position he’d mentioned earlier.
Even if they didn’t find a way out of the mountains to get help, he knew his team would come looking for him soon, if they weren’t already. The sun had slipped low on the horizon, and night was falling. His shift had ended hours ago and he’d never called in to report status updates.
His truck was still parked in the employee lot behind the visitor’s center. It wasn’t like he worked in an office building. He worked in the wilderness. No one would just assume that if he didn’t show up he’d gone bar-hopping with a friend to drink away his Saturday night. They had each other’s backs and took it seriously when a member of the team didn’t report in. But there were thousands of acres of mountain range out here. Without a last known location, they could have several teams of search and rescue out here and never find him.
It had happened before.
Two different people on separate occasions had disappeared in the Smoky Mountains National Park over the past couple of years. They were never found. Not alive, anyway. What Adam had to do was figure out a way to improve their odds, to help the searchers find them. Or reach the searchers themselves.
Which meant he had to stand up.
He also needed a few moments of privacy, like Jody. His bladder was near to bursting. Which meant he really needed to stand up. And walk. Neither option appealed to him with his leg throbbing painfully in rhythm with his heartbeat. He had no desire to experience the agony he’d felt when he’d pulled the stick free from his leg, or when Jody had accidentally kicked his leg while scrambling off his lap. But there was no getting around it. He was destined for a bit of torture no matter what. Might as well get it over with. Of course, deciding that he needed to get up and figuring out how to do it were two entirely different problems.
