Sinful Suspense Box Set

by Oliver, Tess

  “It’s a long, boring task.” Ethan fluffed off the insinuating comment, but my jaw had clenched. “August was kind enough to volunteer to help out with it.”

  Dalton shook his head slightly at his brother. “Your luck just never runs out, does it?”

  Ethan shrugged. “I guess not.”

  “Super nerd that I am,” I said confidently, “I don’t find the task boring at all.” He returned his attention back to me, and I countered his arrogant bacon bite with one of my own.

  Professor North’s phone rang and he glanced at it. His expression flattened as it had the morning before when a call had interrupted breakfast. He hurried out of the room to answer it.

  Dalton glanced over at his brother. “What was that about? He looks stressed about something.”

  Ethan had taken a keen interest in his plate, and he avoided looking at Dalton. “How the heck should I know?”

  “With the way you are studying those scrambled eggs, I’d say you do know, but whatever.” Dalton’s chair scraped the floor as he pushed away from the table. Once again, he looked over at me, and I could feel the heat of his gaze across the table. “You two have fun with the cataloguing.” It seemed as if he held his breath to brace against the pain as he stood. He limped out of the room. I released the breath I’d been holding too.

  Ethan stood with his plate. “I guess we should head into the office.”

  I finally pulled my gaze from the empty corner that Dalton had just disappeared around. I peered up at Ethan North. He was incredibly perfect and the type of guy any girl could hand her heart over to, but the North who’d just left the room, weary and broken from war, was the North who could reach inside and take a girl’s heart hostage forever.

  Chapter 7

  Ethan had spent more time texting than filling in data charts and several hours into our work, I came to the conclusion that I’d gotten more done the day before without his assistance.

  He walked over to the window and peered out. “It’s a nice day.” He smiled back at me. “Except for the six feet of snow on the ground. But at least there is no cold mist hovering around to chill bones. Yesterday, visibility on the slopes sucked. Took a couple of good spills.” He reached down and slid the leg of his jeans up above his ankle. “It’s still swollen but it doesn’t hurt too much.” And then with what seemed like a look of embarrassment, he lowered the pants. “I sound like an idiot complaining about it when—” He glanced toward the hallway and then sat back down. “Dalton was always an awesome snowboarder.” The chair creaked as he leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. If I’d had any question about their brotherly relationship it had been answered by the profound look of sadness on Ethan’s face at that moment. It seemed he felt Dalton’s pain as if it was his own.

  “Bryce, the guy your dad mentioned, did he die?”

  Ethan stared down at his hands and nodded. “He was Dalton’s best friend. Growing up they were inseparable.” He laughed quietly. “Sometimes it seemed Dalton was closer to Bryce than to me. I think he enlisted just to keep an eye on Bryce.” He fell silent for a minute and then leaned back. “They were on a routine supply transport mission. Bryce was in the front supply truck. It hit an IED and exploded. There was a series of explosions. Dalton yelled for everyone to take cover and then he jumped out of his humvee and ran to find Bryce. Dalton got hit carrying Bryce’s body to safety.” Ethan’s throat moved up and down with a hard swallow. “His friend never had a chance. Dalton might be back home, but he left so much of himself, physically and mentally, back in the desert, that he’s a completely different person.”

  “I’m sure it will just take time. He’s obviously gone through a lot.” I knew my answer was hollow, but I couldn’t find better words.

  The sound of a dragging foot followed by the resounding clunk of a wood stick hitting the floor pushed me back to the computer. I hadn’t turned to look at him, but I could feel him standing in the doorway, filling it with his broad shoulders and instantly heating the room with his presence.

  I entered and reentered the same data three times on the wrong line as I listened to him walk into the room and sit down on the window seat. His long legs stretched out over the floor, and he groaned as the foot of his bad leg relaxed. “I’m bored,” Dalton said. “You two should come out and play.”

  Ethan laughed as he walked over to the boxes. “You know, Auggie, Dalton’s right. Let’s take a break before we start in on this box of the Marl clay vessels.”

  “Great,” Dalton said. “Let’s fire up the snowmobiles for a race. Auggie can play cheerleader. You don’t happen to have one of those cute, little cheer uniforms handy, do you?”

  I turned around and looked at him, bracing for the impact of his gaze before my eyes met his. “You, Sir, are sexist.”

  He leaned back against the window. “Oh, come on, head cheerleader is written all over that perfect face of yours.”

  I was momentarily rendered tongue-tied by his unexpected compliment. “I— I wasn’t head cheerleader.”

  “But you were a cheerleader?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t happen to bring my cheer uniform with me on this trip.”

  “Too bad.”

  “Shit, Ton, still the same. And do you think you should be racing on the snowmobile?”

  Dalton stared up at him. “Why not? Are you afraid I’ll get hurt? Cause it’s a little late for that. Or maybe you’re just chicken because you know I’ll whip your sorry ass like I always do?”

  Ethan smiled. “Oh, it is so on now. I’ll go get my coat and gloves.”

  “Hold on,” I said. “What about me? Do you have a third snowmobile?”

  Both guys looked at me with wide eyes.

  “I hate being a spectator. I grew up with three older brothers, and I never sat on the sidelines. We used to have a cabin in Lake Tahoe and we had snowmobiles.”

  Ethan looked at Dalton. “She could use Dad’s.”

  Dalton shrugged. “If you’re sure, Sugarplum.”

  I stood. “I’m sure, and after I throw snow in both your faces,” I looked pointedly at Dalton, “I’ll be calling you Sugarplum.”

  Professor North popped his head into the office. “Ethan, I need to speak to you.” The man was completely different at home than at school. Everything about him was much more serious.

  Ethan followed his dad’s command and left the office. Dalton watched his brother leave, and the look on his face assured me that he had no idea why his brother had been summoned so tersely. He returned his attention back to me, and I grew acutely aware of the fact that we were completely alone.

  He paused and stared at me for a long moment before speaking. “So, what horrible family event did you escape in agreeing to come here and hide between boxes of old stuff?”

  “My parents decided to spend the holiday in the south of France, and I didn’t want to go.”

  He smiled. “Your parents must be monsters.”

  “You wouldn’t understand.” I swallowed back the bitter disappointment that still crept up when I thought about it.

  “Try me.” He adjusted his long legs and his walking stick fell to the floor.

  I jumped up to retrieve it. I picked it up and his fingers intentionally wrapped around mine as I handed it back to him. Static charges raced up my arm as I released my grasp on the stick. He patted the window seat next to him.

  I sat down hesitantly. It was rare for me to be unsettled by any guy but this one could do it just by walking into the room. “I wanted to spend the holiday at home, with just my family.” Once I’d said it the rest of my plight just spilled out. “I wanted to bake with my mom. I can count the number of times we’ve baked cookies together on one finger and that was only because it was a project for her woman’s club. I wanted to cook Christmas dinner with her and hang out in the ki
tchen all day and set the table with everyday plates and paper napkins and enjoy the day like—” I stopped, not knowing how to finish without sounding like a snob.

  But it was too late. “Like us regular folk?”

  I shook my head. “Told you you wouldn’t understand.” I got up but he grabbed my wrist before I could walk away.

  “You’re right. I don’t understand Christmas in the south of France.” He looked up at me. I tried desperately to find a flaw in his face, something that I could find unappealing, but there was nothing. “But I do understand how cool it is to spend a day in the kitchen making a mess, burning food and tasting so much frosting you’re ready to puke your guts up by the time dinner comes.” He peered up at me and the mixture of physical and emotional pain that seemed to be a permanent part of his expression sharpened. “I’m sorry you didn’t get your Christmas wish.” He unwrapped his fingers from around my wrist.

  “I’m going to walk out now because just hearing my complaints out loud makes me wish I hadn’t said them. I’m sure as I leave the room, you’ll be thinking about what an annoying, spoiled rich girl I am.”

  He made a point of looking at me from head to toe and back again and then he rested his head back against the window pane and gazed from beneath long, black lashes. “I assure you, that’s the last thing I’ll be thinking about when I watch you walk out of this room.”

  Chapter 8

  I bundled from head to toe and pulled the hood of my parka up over my head. The sun was shining brightly, but the chill in the air felt like tiny blades hitting my cheeks as I followed Ethan out to the shed. Keeping my face down did little to soften the impact of the harsh temperatures. Ethan’s large feet left deep, defined impressions in the snow, and I stretched my legs to follow them. It was a survival tactic I’d developed after moving to a snowy climate and landing too often in deep holes of icy quicksand. As I kept my focus on Ethan’s footprints, I noticed a trail of odd footprints next to us, one clear print paralleled by a small trench and a deep hole. Dalton must have gone out ahead of us. I looked at Ethan’s strong, unhindered tracks and then stared at the uneven footprints and a sadness that was colder than the surrounding air sent a chill through me.

  “Is it my imagination or is it far more freezing up here than down on campus?”

  Ethan glanced back over his shoulder. “Not your imagination. We’re at a much higher elevation, and when the sky is clear up here, the wind can cut you like a sharp knife.” He looked back again. “You’ll warm up once we start riding.”

  The shed was only five hundred yards or so from the house, but the journey through the brisk air and deep snow seemed endless. The shed door was open and the pungent smell of gasoline struck us as we entered.

  Dalton was leaning over one of the snowmobiles with a gasoline can in his hand. He lowered the can and straightened at the sound of our footsteps. He was only wearing jeans, a thin olive colored military jacket over a black t-shirt and gloves, a style that suited him perfectly and only made him that much more appealing. The one concession he’d made to admit that it was as cold as the Arctic outside was a black beanie on his head.

  He grinned at Ethan who was bundled nearly as much as me. “Have you got enough layers of fluff on, Buddy? I thought we were racing.”

  “I can race just fine in this snow gear and at least I’ll still have my ba—” Ethan stopped and looked over at me, “my toes after I’m done burying you with my snow wake.”

  I laughed. “A snow wake?”

  Ethan shrugged. “Thought it was clever.”

  A phone buzzed and Dalton fished it out of his pocket. He read the text. “Whooee,” he said with a deep chuckle and quickly texted back a message before returning the phone to his pocket.

  “So, I guess word is out and you’ve already got all the available girls in town sexting with you.” Ethan attempted to sound annoyed, but there was a hint of admiration in his tone.

  “Nah, not all of them. Just five or six. I don’t think word of my return has reached every corner of town yet.”

  Ethan rolled his eyes. “Then I stand corrected.”

  Dalton shifted his focus to me. “What about you, you sweet little ball of quilted down, are you sure you still want to race?”

  “I trudged all the way out here, didn’t I?” In the house I’d reminded myself not to get so discombobulated by his gaze but all mental sticky notes had come unstuck. I did manage a chin thrust though. “Let’s fire these machines up.” Even though I hadn’t been on a snowmobile in a few years, I was fairly confident about my riding skills. Of course I was also pretty sure that my brothers had always gone easy on me.

  Dingy, slightly scratched goggles did not dim the brilliance of the crystal white landscape, and once we’d reached the clearing where we could really open up, I laughed at the exhilaration of it all. Even though we’d all agreed not to get too crazy because the helmets had been packed away in the basement, Dalton and Ethan had shot ahead in true testosterone-driven, competitive male style, but I’d felt the need to get used to the machine beneath me.

  An occasional blinding ray of sunlight glanced off the frozen ground as my thumb pressed the throttle. The snowmobile was larger and more powerful than I was used to, and I was having too much fun flying along through the blankets of snow to worry about any blustery threats I’d made earlier.

  The physical challenge of maneuvering a heavy snowmobile over the rough landscape warmed me up instantly. I squinted through the goggles. Dalton was ahead of Ethan. The two front skis of his snowmobile lifted off the snow, and he balanced solely on the back track as he rode a wheelie up the steep incline of a hill. So much for not getting too crazy. His injury might have slowed him on two feet, but it seemed to have no effect now.

  Both brothers disappeared over the ridge, and I squeezed the throttle to catch up to them. If there was an incline then a decline had to follow, and I was feeling confident enough on the snowmobile to pick up speed.

  The front skis came up off the surface for a moment as the snowmobile reached the peak and then I found myself staring down a much sharper decline than I’d expected. Ethan’s machine fishtailed behind him as he pressed the throttle in an attempt to push past Dalton. But it was futile. His brother rode wildly ahead over the mounds of snow.

  I flew down the icy slope and pressed the throttle even harder. I leaned forward to lessen the wind resistance and keep my nose from freezing into a solid chip of ice. I caught up to Ethan just as he turned sharply to avoid a deep rut in the snow. He tipped sideways, and I sped past him as he worked to right himself.

  I reached the next ridge and looked down. Dalton was riding a tight circle of donuts in the snow below. He waved to me teasingly. I rode down toward him and pushed the throttle harder as I ripped past him. He pulled his machine out of the circular trench he’d created and chased after me.

  I screamed with excitement and leaned down over the handle bars trying to keep my weight equally distributed over the seat as my thumb cramped on the throttle. An unexpected lump of icy snow sent me off the seat, but I managed to hold on. The buzz of a motor came up along my right side, and Dalton grinned widely at me as he raced past. I glanced back over my shoulder just as Ethan came coasting over the ridge. I turned back forward as Dalton purposely steered his snowmobile toward a large mound of snow. Fearless and reckless, he hit the incline at top speed and he was instantly airborne. While the snowmobile torpedoed straight ahead, Dalton lost his hold on the bars and flew off. He landed a good fifteen feet away.

  My heart pounded as I stopped the snowmobile and jumped off. It was like déjà vu as I raced toward him lying still and lifeless in a mound of snow. “Dalton!” I screamed. “Dalton!” I reached him and leaned down over him. His eyes were closed beneath the goggles, and I carefully slipped them off his head. The buzz of Ethan’s snowmobile neared and then the engine stopped. Ethan�
�s large feet crunched the snow as he trudged quickly toward us.

  I tore off my gloves and placed my hands on both sides of Dalton’s face. His skin was warm beneath my palms.

  “Dalton!” Ethan yelled as he looked over my shoulder. “Is he breathing?”

  Panic gripped me and I leaned my ear down to his mouth.

  “I think this is where you give me mouth to mouth,” a deep voice whispered softly into my ear.

  I straightened and smacked him on the shoulder. “You ass.”

  Dalton rubbed his arm. “Ouch. I haven’t taken a first aid class in awhile, but I don’t think you’re supposed to smack the victim.”

  “Damnit Dalton, why do you do shit like that?” Ethan walked over to Dalton’s snowmobile and pushed it upright.

  Dalton hadn’t sat up yet and I decided to take full advantage of his vulnerable position. I scooped up a mound of snow and threw it on his face. He shot up and I squealed as he lunged for me. He grabbed hold of my leg and pulled me down into the snow and against his chest. My bare fingers were numb as I scooped a clump of icy snow into my hand and pressed it hard against his mouth.

  “Dalton,” Ethan’s sharp tone rained down on us.

  We stopped our snow wrestling and stared up at him. His scowl shot straight to his brother. “If you two are done flirting like teenagers then we need to get back. Auggie and I have work to do.” His angry glare had been aimed at Dalton, but the comment was meant to embarrass me and it had. Ethan was right. I was starting to act like a teenage girl with a major crush, and I needed to pull myself together. Dalton was inexplicably irresistible, but I was not an inexperienced teenager with stars in my eyes. I needed to get back my self control.

  Properly chastised, I freed myself from Dalton’s arms and pushed to my feet. I searched around in the snow for my gloves and found them, soaked and covered in ice.

  Ethan reached his hand down. Dalton’s face twisted in pain as he hauled himself to his feet. His jacket and jeans were soaking wet, and it would be a cold ride back. Ethan’s angry admonishments had silenced all of us. Without another word, we climbed back onto our snowmobiles and headed back.