by Kaylea Cross
“About seeing you in the hospital just before I had to leave. How much I wish I could’ve been there for you while you recovered.” It had been a long, hard ordeal lasting the better part of two years. He’d been deployed for almost all of it, only managing to sneak in one visit to see her in Kelowna in between.
She slipped her arms around him beneath the blanket and rubbed a hand over his back, as though he was the one in need of comfort. “You were there for me.”
He grunted and shook his head. “Not in person, and not nearly often enough. Not as much as I wanted to be. I thought about you every single day.” He hugged her close, burying his face in the side of her neck. Thinking of her had gotten him through some of the hardest times of his deployments. “I wished I could trade places with you so you wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.”
She squeezed him, her shivers lessening even more. “It was awful, not gonna lie, but it made me into who I am today. I’m stronger now for it all.”
“You sure as hell are.” He sighed, savoring the feel of her wrapped around him, soaking up their shared warmth as the wind howled beyond their enclosure. “You hungry?”
“Yeah. What’ve we got?”
Not as much as they would have if the emergency supplies he’d left with the snowmobiles hadn’t been burned to ash. Right about now, he would have killed for those extra layers and blankets. He hoped the asshole responsible was currently freezing to death out in the storm somewhere. “Let’s take a look.”
He tucked the edges of the thin blanket around her to minimize the cold air seeping in as he sat them up and reached into his ruck. The sandwiches Nina and Rylee had made them were frozen solid, but the trail mix and protein bars were still edible. “Think the tea’s still liquid enough to drink it?” he asked, pulling out both thermoses.
“Oh, God, I hope so.” She tucked the edges of the blanket under her chin and stuck her hands through to take a thermos. She shook it, groaned in relief. “There’s definitely liquid in there somewhere.” Uncapping it, she tipped it to her lips and closed her eyes, a moan rising from her throat. “I swear that’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
He took a sip of his own, and agreed. It was like chai without the milk. Spicy, sweet and delicious. After the ordeal they’d just been through, the sugar in the honey was a godsend.
Eating the trail mix with numb fingers, however, was a challenge. He ended up taking off his gloves and feeding her little bits of nuts, dried fruit and dark chocolate by hand, not wanting her to remove her own gloves.
“Your fingers are like icicles,” she said in a worried voice, capturing his hand between her gloved ones. She brought them to her mouth to kiss his fingers, then rubbed them gently.
They were too cold to feel anything, but his heart squeezed at her effort. “Keep eating,” he told her, pulling his hand free to get her another mouthful. “You need the calories.” He fed her until she refused to eat any more, then ate the rest and nearly broke his teeth trying to chew the frozen protein bar.
After that, he took a ski pole and poked it through the snow covering the ventilation hole in the door they’d constructed. “What time is it?” she murmured sleepily when he eased back to lie down behind her again.
“Little after seven, I think.” Their phones had no service out here. Hopefully Tate would still be able to get their location on the GPS spotter, but no one would be able to come looking until the storm ended. “Sore?”
“A little.” She sighed. “Seems like it should be the middle of the night.”
He drew her tighter into his body, tucked them into a tight ball and wrapped his arms around her. Blizzard or not, holding her like this was heaven. He just wished they were somewhere safe and warm so he could peel all their layers off and show her how much he loved her.
Yeah, he loved her, and he’d known it for a long time now. Even knowing all the reasons he should keep his distance, and that she deserved more than what he could give her, he still loved her. That would never change, no matter what happened between them.
Even if she couldn’t be his.
“Where were you going that day, anyway?” Tala asked him after a minute.
“What day?”
“When you saw me in the hospital.”
His mind snapped him back in time. “We went out to hunt down the cell responsible for the attack on the convoy.”
“Oh.”
“After that, we went after the cell that made and planted the IEDs.” He paused, his muscles tightening. “Including the mine you stepped on.”
She turned her head to try and look at him, the low beam of her headlamp casting a ring of light on the rock ceiling above them. “And did you get them?” she asked quietly.
A surge of savage satisfaction shot through him. “Oh yeah.”
That mission was still vivid in his mind. He remembered the exact smell of the arid air as he’d waited in his sniper hide on a low ridge overlooking the village, reporting observations from him and his spotter to the rest of the team. And when they’d positively ID’d the head bomb maker entering that village, Braxton had laid in position for another twenty-one hours waiting for his target to come back out.
It was still the single most satisfying shot he’d ever taken in his career. Too bad the fucker he’d shot had never known what hit him. He’d been dead before he hit the ground from the bullet Braxton put through his C-spine.
It hadn’t changed anything for Tala. She’d still lost her foot and lower leg. Had still gone through endless months of agony through other surgeries and painful, grueling rehab before she could finally walk with a prosthetic. But at least the man responsible for her suffering had paid with his life. At least Braxton had been able to give her that.
“I made sure you got justice for what happened,” he told her in a low voice, hoping the glimpse into his darker nature wouldn’t alarm her. “It was all I could give you.”
She turned over fully to face him, angling her headlamp upward so it hit the far wall instead of his face. “What do you mean? Who did you kill?”
She was so beautiful and strong. A proud survivor. “The lead bomb maker. Former Afghan National Army, trained by the U.S.” It was all classified but he didn’t give a fuck. She deserved to know. He hoped it brought her at least a little peace after all she’d been through.
Tala trailed her gloved fingers down the side of his face, her gaze searching his. “You couldn’t tell me before.”
“No.”
“You shouldn’t have even told me now, should you?”
“No.”
A soft smile curved her lips. They were no longer purple from the cold, but a dark pink, and all he could think about was kissing them. Sliding his tongue between them to taste her again. “I’m glad he’s dead. So thank you. For what you did, and for telling me.”
He’d do anything for her. Had already killed for her once, and would do it again if the fugitive up the mountain came after them again. No one was ever touching her again while he was here.
She shifted closer, her gaze still locked with his as her thigh pressed against his groin, and his entire body tightened. Blood rushed between his legs, making his cock go rock hard inside his ski pants and sweats. And suddenly everything but her fell away, leaving nothing but the desire raging inside him.
Shifting his hands up to palm the back of her head, he fused their mouths together, unleashing some of his hunger for her. Enough to make his heart pound and his muscles bunch. Letting her see what she did to him. What she meant to him. Showing her how much he wanted her.
Tala made a quiet, sexy purring sound and twined her tongue with his, all but melting into his body. Soft where he was hard. Warm where he was cold.
Her kiss and touch melted the frozen place inside him, making him ache for so much more. She tasted of sweet spices and every guilty fantasy he’d had of her for the past four years.
One hand slid down to cup her ass and squeeze it as he pressed her hips to the throbbing length of
his erection. That Lycra suit had been driving him crazy all afternoon, and now he could finally feel her firm curves the way he’d been dying to.
But it wasn’t enough. He wanted closer. Deeper.
Barely clinging to his control, he rocked his hips into her, aching to rip the layers of clothing away so he could plunge inside her. Claim her. Bathe in her warmth and feel her wrapped around him completely while he gave her enough pleasure to make her forget where they were and that they were trapped out here in a blizzard with a madman somewhere on this mountain.
He groaned into her mouth as he kissed her, resenting the gloves that kept him from being able to explore her the way he wanted. And if he didn’t slow this down now, he might lose his head and not be able to stop until he was buried inside her.
Instead he slowed the kiss, gentled it, until she strained in his arms, her body rubbing against his the most incredibly erotic torture. Then he kissed his way across her face and down her jaw to the sensitive place below her jaw.
“Dammit, I wish we were in a big warm bed right now,” he breathed, his cock so hard it hurt.
She rubbed her covered core along his thigh, a needy sigh escaping. “I really want to risk getting you naked right now, but I’m afraid we’d freeze to death,” she muttered.
He laughed, drawing a startled look from her. Hell, it surprised him too, but it was so damn funny, and it felt good. He hadn’t laughed in too long.
She pressed her hips and belly tighter to his erection, grinning at him as she nudged it. “You won’t leave me hanging when we get home, right?”
“That’s a promise I can’t wait to keep, sweetheart.”
Her gaze softened. She kissed him again. Gently. Slowly. Then snuggled back against his chest and cuddled in close with a gentle sigh. “This whole situation blows, but I’m really glad you’re with me right now, Brax. I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone but you.”
He kissed the top of her toque-covered head, that all-too familiar pressure filling his chest. “Me too. Now try to get some sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”
“Okay.” Her face was pressed to the base of his neck, her exhalations warming his skin.
Minutes passed with nothing but their quiet breathing filling the enclosure and the sound of the wind outside. Tala’s body was relaxed against him. He thought she’d fallen asleep until she spoke.
“Rylee and my brother are gonna freak when we don’t show up soon,” she murmured drowsily. “Tate’ll be out here at first light if the storm lets up by then.”
Braxton was counting on it.
****
Neither of them were answering their phones. Not that they could probably get a signal in this storm.
Tate slipped his phone back into his jeans pocket and turned away from the front window where he’d been keeping watch, hoping to see the headlights of his truck coming down the road. Eight inches of snow had already fallen here and the wind was shearing snow-laden branches off the trees.
Up where Brax and Tala were, it would be a lot worse.
“Anything?”
He glanced over his shoulder as Nina came into the family room. “No.” And that made him damn worried.
She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and flattened herself to the back of him, her cheek pressed between his shoulder blades. “I’m sure they’re okay. They’ll probably pull into the driveway any minute now.”
“They’re not in the truck. They’re not even anywhere close to it.”
“What?” She eased away and he turned to meet her gaze.
“The GPS spotter says they’re still thirteen miles from the building site.” He’d been tracking them all afternoon to keep tabs on them. Then, a little over an hour ago, they’d either stopped or the signal had dropped.
Her eyes widened, then she looked at the darkened front windows as the snow flew thick and fast outside. “What happened?”
“Dunno. Could just be the storm blew up too fast for them to get back to the truck.” Could be they’d lost visibility. Could be one of them was hurt. Or maybe something had happened to Tala’s prosthetic, making it impossible for her to ski back down.
Or it could mean the fugitive killer had found them.
Nina reached for his hand and squeezed it, her face full of worry. “What can I do?”
“Did you hear from them?”
They both turned at Rylee’s voice behind them. His niece stood in the kitchen doorway, her arms around her middle, watching them anxiously.
“Not yet. But I’ve got their location.” He gave her a reassuring smile. The kid had been through too much these past few months. He wasn’t going to add to her trauma by saying something was wrong and that her mother was missing in a fucking blizzard with a possible murderer on the loose in the same area. “Don’t worry. If they’re not back soon, Mase and I’ll go out as soon as the storm lets up. But I’m sure they’re fine. They took lots of supplies with them. They’re both trained in winter survival, and Braxton’s an expert. They’ll be fine.”
She watched him for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether he was bullshitting her or not. “She’s not answering my calls or texts.”
“They won’t have reception where they are. And the cold saps battery life, so her phone might be dead.”
Rylee pushed out a breath, then nodded. “You’ll tell me the second you hear anything?”
“Of course.”
He waited until she’d gone down the hall, listened for the sound of her door shutting. But Nina spoke first. “Tate, what do you need me to do?”
He loved that she was ready and willing to help him with whatever needed to be done. “Get food and some blankets together. I’m gonna go organize the rest of what I need and call Mason.”
She leaned up on tiptoe to brush a soft kiss on his mouth. “On it.”
He dialed Mason’s number as he strode for the garage, his mind churning. “Hey, I can’t reach either of them and they’re still thirteen miles from the building site. Get whatever you need together now, because as of right now we’re both on alert. As soon as this storm breaks, we’re going after them.”
Chapter Fifteen
Tala woke with a shiver after falling into another fitful doze and immediately regretted waking, gritting her teeth against the pain in her right leg. Thin, dark gray light seeped through the hole at the top of the door they’d built.
Morning was finally approaching, after an endless and completely miserable night.
Braxton shifted on the bedroll they were lying on and wordlessly pulled her tighter into his body. The Mylar blanket had come loose around them. He tucked it back around her shoulders and lifted his top leg to let her sandwich her thigh between his.
Another time it might have been arousing as hell to wake up next to him like this. Right now, it was all about survival and sharing body heat.
She burrowed into him and pressed her face into the base of his neck, trying to ignore the pain coming from her stump. Her nose and lips were numb from the cold. The chemical pouches were no longer keeping her hands warm, and her left foot felt like a block of ice. Her back and shoulder muscles ached from overdoing it yesterday. But the pain in her leg eclipsed every other discomfort.
She shifted, trying to escape it, or at least find a position that made it more bearable. Nothing helped.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she focused on the feel of Braxton, hoping to distract herself from the pain as she’d done during those first few weeks after being wounded.
When she shifted restlessly again, Braxton eased away slightly to look down into her face. The tiny amount of light coming in through their air hole above them allowed her to see the shape of his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he whispered.
“Hurts,” she muttered.
“What does?”
“My stump.”
His arms came all the way around her, then he was sitting up and pulling her with him. “Is something wrong?”
Yes. “It sometimes g-gets li
ke this.” She’d overdone it yesterday. And she hadn’t taken off the liner to let the skin breathe and check or clean it because it had been too damn cold. “The cold’s m-making it worse.”
He hugged her to his chest, tucking her across his lap so that her stump wasn’t pressed against anything. “Can I do something to make it better?”
She shook her head, willing the pain to go away. A combination of sharp, lightning nerve pain shooting up what remained of her leg, and a deep, horrible ache that signaled bone pain.
“Should we check it?”
“No,” she said, too sharply. Not only did she not want him seeing it, she didn’t want anything to touch it. Any additional stimulation right now would make the pain unbearable.
“Are you going to be able to ski on it?”
She’d have to if she wanted off this mountain, but she was dreading putting her prosthetic back on right now. “Yes. What time is it?”
He reached up to unzip his jacket and pull out his phone where he’d kept it against his chest to stay warm. She’d tucked hers into the front of her sports bra to try and conserve whatever battery life remained. “Almost oh-six-hundred-hours. Still no service.”
He put it away, zipped back up and immediately drew her close, holding her to him while he rubbed his gloved hands rapidly up and down her back. Trying to warm and comfort her. “Wind’s died down some. I just cleared the air hole again before you woke up. It’s still snowing out there, but not as bad as it was last night.”
She drew a deep breath, mentally gearing up for the trek ahead. “We going to get moving?”
“I want to wait for it to die down just a little more. Then if you’re up to it, yes.”
“I’m up to it.” She was sore and would pay for it all the way down the mountain, but she had no choice but to put her prosthetic back on and ski out of here. “Think the shooter’s still out there?” That and the cold had kept her from sleeping in anything more than little snatches all night, even with Braxton right here.
“Doubtful. If he’s not a total idiot he would have gone back to that shed for the night. And if he doesn’t want to get arrested, he’ll be out of there long before this storm is over.”
