by Kaylea Cross
She nodded, her jaw tightening. “So we might have an armed killer in our town.”
He didn’t like it any more than she did. They’d dealt with more than enough dangerous shit here over the past few months, and he didn’t want any more of it in his town. “Yeah.”
“I’m guessing you’ve alerted the department, so the on-duty officers can check it out?”
“Two officers are following up on the lead now. In the meantime, we have no confirmation that Fenwick is dead, so he definitely could be in the area. Until we can either confirm he’s dead or bring him in, everyone needs to keep a sharp eye out.”
Chapter Seven
“You sure you don’t wanna play?” Tala asked him with a sweet smile the next morning.
Braxton had thought about her nonstop since their shooting lesson yesterday. Including last night when he’d finally crawled into bed and stroked himself off while imagining her naked and on her knees, taking the length of his erect cock between her lips.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sure. But thanks.” He stayed put in his easy chair in the corner of Tate’s living room. He’d come over with Avery and Mason an hour ago for a brunch thing that had somehow transitioned into games.
Games weren’t his thing, and charades was about the worst one he could think of. He’d rather stick something sharp in his eye than have to get up in front of everyone and make an ass out of himself, even his closest friends and their significant others.
“Aww, are you sure? I know you hate being the center of attention, but it’s all in good fun,” Tala said, looking disappointed.
And as gorgeous as ever in black leggings and a body-hugging red sweater, her long brown hair falling in waves around her shoulders, shining in the lights of the Christmas tree in the corner opposite Braxton. She looked happy and relaxed, like Christmas itself, and while he would do pretty much anything for her, he drew the line at charades.
“Positive.” The whole thing made him feel awkward and out of place. Besides, in the interest of fairness, both teams should have the same number of people, and he would make seven.
“Okay then, you’re keeping score.” Mason shoved a notepad and pen at him, already marked with the names of the two teams at the top. “And no cheating. No giving the ladies more points just because they’re better looking than us.”
“Hey,” Rylee complained. “I’m better looking than you guys too, but I’m still on your team.”
Mason grinned and hugged her to his side. “You’re gorgeous. But even with you, we’re still not winning in the looks department against those three.” He nodded at Avery, Tala and Nina.
“You’re not going to win, period,” Tala said, her competitive side starting to show. She liked to win. “You guys are going down.”
“Talk is cheap,” Tate fired back, looping an arm around Rylee’s shoulders so she was sandwiched between him and Mason. “Let’s see who’s talking trash at the end of the game.”
The ladies went first, and things got spirited right from the outset. Braxton was amazed and amused by how into it everyone got. There was shouting and laughing and whoops and high-fives, along with groans and complaining.
Avery threw a decorative pillow at Mason for a comment he made, then so did Nina and Tala. Braxton threw one at him too for good measure, beaning his buddy in the side of the head when he wasn’t looking.
Mason whipped around to stare at him, a look of betrayal on his face. “Hey.”
“You’ve had that and a lot worse coming to you for years, and you know it. Be glad it was only a pillow.”
Everyone burst out laughing, and Mason grinned. “Yeah, okay, I’ll concede that point. What’s the score, anyway?”
“Ladies lead eight to five.”
Mason frowned and grabbed the paper from him. “That can’t be right. You’re giving them extra points.” He studied the tally.
Braxton yanked it back from him. “It’s right. Go save your team, if you can.”
The game resumed, with both teams intent on winning. Observing everything from the corner, Braxton felt a pang in his chest.
His family had never played games like this. Most of his childhood memories were of him being alone. His brother was ten years older and hadn’t wanted much to do with him. His mom had been lost in her own booze-soaked haze of depression.
He’d learned early on to amuse himself and be content with his own company, taking long bike rides or playing in the woods. Sometimes he’d join up with some neighborhood kids to play road hockey, but he’d been too young for them to bother with most of the time.
Watching everyone now, he realized he envied what they had. They were all so comfortable with each other. They had a sense of belonging he’d only ever felt in the military. Maybe that’s why he’d bonded so fast and hard with Mason during the selection phase. Neither one of them had known the love and security of family.
The game finally reached the last round, with the ladies up by one. “You guys need to win this to tie,” Braxton informed the other team.
“Yeah, yeah,” Mason muttered, distractedly waving a hand at him as he walked into the center of the room and put the piece of paper containing the prompt into his pocket. “Don’t let me down, guys,” he said to Tate and Rylee.
“Don’t let us down,” Rylee retorted, making Tate chuckle.
Braxton started the timer on his watch. “Go.”
Mason dropped to the floor on his stomach and started slithering around the rug.
“Snake!” Rylee shouted. “Worm! Salamander!”
Mason put his hands to his neck and started fanning them as he slithered on the floor, now kicking his feet. Ric got up from his bed by the fire and rushed over to lick at his master’s face, back end wiggling like crazy.
“Cut it out, Ric,” Mason said with a laugh, and gently pushed him away to resume his act.
The room went silent. Then Nina gasped, her face brightening. Avery smacked her arm and gave her a warning look. Nina sat back, biting her lip as she watched Mason and his team.
“Tadpole?” Tate guessed.
Mason shook his head and got to his knees, making a weird expression with his face. Eyes bulging, mouth opening and closing as he kept his wrists stuck to the side of his neck and waved his hands. Braxton smothered a chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all.
“What the hell is that?” Tate demanded.
Everyone started laughing. Tala laughed so hard she snorted. Braxton glanced over at her, unable to hide his smile as she broke into an infectious belly laugh.
“Trying to win over here,” Mason said to her, a sarcastic edge to his voice.
“You just look s-so rid—ridiculous,” Tala choked out through her laughter, then grabbed a throw pillow and held it against her face to muffle it.
Meanwhile, Mason continued whatever it was he was trying to convey, now shuffling around the coffee table on his knees, watching his team earnestly. Nina was still biting her lip, glancing from Mason to his team, clearly thinking she knew what he was portraying.
“Mutant!” Rylee finally shouted in desperation, frowning in intense concentration as she focused on Mason.
“I don’t know what the hell it is, but he looks like he’s in pain,” Tate said, shaking his head. “Are you in pain, Mase?”
Mason shot Tate a dark look and finally climbed to his feet to walk around, first bent over a bit with the fishy fins at his neck, then lumbering around with his arms swinging like—
“Bigfoot,” Tate said.
Mason rolled his eyes and straightened as he kept walking around the room, now lifting his eyebrows at his team in a disbelieving come on, it’s obvious way. Both Rylee and Tate stared at him with identical blank expressions that made Braxton grin. Nina shifted restlessly on the couch, looking ready to explode.
“Time,” Braxton announced when the final second ran out.
Mason groaned and sagged dramatically, shooting a frustrated glower at his team. “It was—”
Nina
jumped up from the couch before he could finish. “Evolution,” she shouted, all excited.
Mason gestured to her with his hands, eyes wide as he confronted his team. “Yes! Thank you. You see?”
Rylee made a strangled sound. “Wh-what? That’s what that was?” She burst out laughing, and Tala joined in with her.
“Jesus, Mase, that was terrible,” Tate said over the laughter filling the room. “I mean, how in hell did you expect us to figure that out from what you were doing?”
“Uh, I was so clearly evolving, right before your eyes in the space of a single minute. Everyone knows life started out in the primordial ooze and then into the ocean before moving onto land.”
Nina nodded, face sober now. “He’s right. I knew exactly what it was as soon as he transformed into the first fishy thing.”
“Thank you,” Mason said, lifting his chin.
“Aww, bad news, guys,” Avery told him and his team with a look of fake sympathy. “Losers gotta do the dishes.”
“Rules are rules,” Tala agreed, looking extremely pleased with the outcome.
“Fine,” Mason muttered. “But I’m never teaming up with Tate for charades again. He sucks at it.”
“I can live with that,” Tate said with a grin as he followed Mason and Rylee into the kitchen to start the cleanup.
Setting aside the tally sheet and pen, Braxton rose to go with them.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
He froze and looked over at Tala, who was curled up on the end of the couch with the pillow in her lap, watching him with an appreciative gleam in her eyes that made his insides tighten. “To help clean up.”
“I was hoping you might be up for doing something else instead.”
Oh, she had no idea what he was up for where she was concerned. And even though he should be keeping a bit of distance from her now to avoid tempting fate more than he already had, he couldn’t. Didn’t want to. “What’ve you got in mind?”
“I was hoping you might want to go cross country skiing for a couple hours this afternoon. Rylee’s already warned me not to ask her, and the others want to just chill at home for the rest of the day. Meaning, they want some alone time.”
If she were his, he’d want the same damn thing. For as long as he could get. “Then skiing it is.”
Her smile lit up her whole face, and all he could do was stare. “Good. Let me go find Tate’s gear. You’re taller, but it should still fit you okay.” Then she was off.
Braxton headed into the kitchen, his gut telling him he was making a mistake by going out with her alone, but the rest of him was desperate for it. The others glanced up at him as he took a dishtowel from the oven door handle. “I’ll help dry, but then Tala and I are heading out to do some skiing.”
“Good, but keep an eye on her,” Tate said as he washed a pan in the sink. “She tends to overdo it and push farther than she should with her leg.”
“Runs in the family, huh?” He liked that Tate was protective of her. It was clear to anyone with eyes how much he and Tala adored each other. And Braxton knew that Tate had hero-worshipped his big sister for his whole life. He’d wound up joining the Marines because of her example.
Tate grinned. “Guess it does.”
Braxton answered when spoken to as he helped tidy the kitchen, but his mind was already jumping ahead to the moment he’d be alone with Tala again. His exes had all accused him of being too remote and unfeeling, but maybe they’d been wrong, because he felt things for Tala that he’d never experienced before.
The deep craving for her wasn’t easing up. If anything, being here had intensified it.
Looking back, he could pinpoint the exact day it had started. That hot August afternoon last summer when he’d visited her in Kelowna with Tate and Mason. They’d all gone out on the boat together to waterski. Tala had declined, sitting at the stern.
When it was his turn, he’d jumped in the water and put the skis on, then grabbed the rope. Looking up once he was in position, he’d found her watching him, floppy-brimmed hat shading her face. Even through the dark lenses of her sunglasses he’d felt her gaze on him like an electric charge throughout his body. He’d made that initial run with a raging erection pressing against the front of his swimming trunks.
On the final jump he’d attempted to impress her, he’d wiped out pretty bad. He surfaced just as Tate circled the boat back around for him, wiping the water out of his face. A hand reached down for him. He grabbed it without thinking, expecting it to be Mason’s, but the slender structure made him look up in surprise to find Tala there.
Her grip was solid, but it was the look on her face that made something shift inside him. She’d taken off her sunglasses. Those pretty eyes were full of concern, and a tenderness that drove the air from his lungs. Her expression made it seem like he truly mattered to her.
Staring up into her eyes, he felt his heart go into free-fall.
“You okay?” she’d asked him, anxiously scanning his face.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Perfect, now that he was the focus of her undivided attention and concern. If her brother and Mason hadn’t been watching, he would have reached up to curve a hand around her nape and pull her down to claim those tempting lips right then and there, and to hell with the consequences.
That moment was still so clear in his mind. As clear as the moment he’d realized how close he’d come to losing her forever the day she’d been hit. Seeing it happen, then visiting her in the hospital later, had triggered all his protective and possessive instincts. They fit. He’d never felt smothered or craved space when he was with her. That said it all.
He’d almost blurted out the truth to her the night following that day on the boat, but his relationship track record and her being Tate’s sister had stopped him cold.
It took a moment for him to come back to the present fully. When he did, he realized that the kitchen had gone quiet. He glanced at Rylee, who was watching him expectantly near the sink. “Sorry?” Had she said something?
Her lips twitched. “Nothing. Your mind is clearly elsewhere.” Her eyes twinkled. “What’s her name?”
He wasn’t touching that one for a million bucks.
“You keeping something from us, Brax?” Mason asked, his expression full of interest. “You seeing someone?”
He opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, but Tala stepped into the kitchen. Her gaze moved from Mason to Braxton, and he would have sworn that was sadness he saw in her eyes. “No. I’m not seeing anyone,” he answered, watching her intently, his muscles tightening.
Relief flashed across her face, so fast he almost missed it. But a huge part of becoming a sniper meant learning to notice tiny details others missed, and he knew what he’d just seen.
He went dead still, his fist locking around the dishtowel. Holy fuck, if she was actually into him…
Without warning, a tidal wave of hunger and possessiveness crashed over him. He struggled to rein it in, his pulse picking up, the urge to plunge his hands into her thick hair and kiss her until she couldn’t stand up on her own.
Then she smiled, a private smile just for him, and it was suddenly hard to breathe. “I’ve got the stuff. You ready?”
Somehow he unlocked his jaw enough to respond as blood rushed to his groin. “Ready.” He tossed the damp towel at Mason, not even watching to see if his buddy caught it. He was already following Tala to the door, his gaze locked on her ass as his pulse thudded in his ears.
He shouldn’t touch her. Couldn’t risk crossing the friends line with her.
But if she wanted him, God help him, he didn’t think he’d have the strength to hold back.
****
The sun was still high overhead, but it was cold, and as soon as the sun dipped below the treetops, the temperature would start dropping and it would get dark fast. He needed to be inside his meager shelter long before then.
Jason paused at the crest of the hill, gasping as he bent over to catch his breath, hands
on his knees. The air was thinner up here at this altitude, and the sharp cold made his lungs ache.
The gash across the outside of his left shoulder had opened up again. He could feel the blood seeping through his sleeve, and his upper back burned from carrying the heavy backpack all the way up here from the small town of Rifle Creek. He couldn’t stop yet, though.
He blew on his fingers in an effort to warm them in his gloves, but they’d gone numb a while ago. Getting out of Missoula alive had been the easy part. Now it was him against the elements, and he had to be smart. Mother Nature was a cruel bitch, especially in these mountains in the dead of winter. Mistakes up here could be deadly.
Good thing he was more than prepared to meet the challenge.
Straightening, he ignored the exhaustion weighing his limbs down and forced his tired legs to carry him down the far side of the ridge. The snow was deep here, his boots sinking through the dry powder with each step, quickly draining what was left of his endurance.
His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since early that morning when he’d grabbed a quick meal at a café in Rifle Creek before beginning his trek up here. He pushed aside the cold, the hunger and sense of desperation eating at him, focused on the only thing that mattered.
Survival, and the new life waiting for him on the other side of these mountains.
He thought of Melissa alone on a bus right now, heading to the West Coast and facing an uncertain future all by herself. She was depending on him to fulfill his promise and meet her in California in another few days.
She needed him. He was all she had. He wouldn’t let her down.
He’d walked this same route a dozen times now during previous supply drops over the past several weeks, and knew the area by heart. This part of the mountain was deserted, accessed by only the occasional hunter or hiker. Any bears would be deep in hibernation now, so the only animals he had to worry about were cougars.
