Blackstone Ranger Guardian: Blackstone Rangers Book 5

by Alicia Montgomery

  She glanced outside again. The snow was still falling, though it was calmer now. A million questions zinged through her head. Who was this man, her mate? What did he do for fun? Where did he live? And of course, what would happen when they got back?

  Her fox wrinkled its nose at her, as if to say, stop. Just enjoy the moment. They were mates, there would be time enough for that.

  And so, putting those thoughts aside, she snuggled deeper against his side.

  Chapter Three

  His mate.

  The words rang in Krieger’s head over and over again, the synapses unable to make the connection, even as he held her in his arms.

  His bear growled in protest.

  No!

  He reined the creature in. It could not touch her. Not his perfect, gorgeous mate. His hand swept down the skin of her naked back, milky white and unmarred except for a smattering of freckles on her shoulders. The imperfection only made her more appealing to him, though, and he found his eyes tracing the little dots.

  She shifted around, her coppery red hair spilling over his arm. Christ. Redheads had always been his weakness. Once upon a time. Different lifetime. Different man.

  Certain parts of that life remained in his brain. Teasing. Kissing. Fucking. The skills to please a woman and have her begging for more. But with her … it was different. All those before her melted away from his memories.

  A mate. God, he didn’t deserve her.

  The grizzly rose again, and he shut it away, ignoring its protests. He was more forceful this time. Have to keep it locked up. Can’t have her see. Have her tainted.

  His past would remain in the past. Up here, it was easy to forget. A sheen of cold sweat built up on his forehead.

  The dampness of the market basement.

  Shuffle of boots behind him.

  His eardrums bursting from the boom.

  Rubble around him.

  Cries.

  Blood.

  Hours. Days. Slowly dehydrating. Dying.

  And then the horrors of what happened after.

  A strangled cry fought to escape his throat, and he wrestled it down.

  “John? John?”

  Deep breaths. Deep breaths. He focused on the beautiful face looking up at him, sparkling pale blue eyes the color of robin’s eggs bringing him back to now. Duchess Forrester. His mate.

  “Are you all right?” She reached up to caress his cheek.

  He nuzzled at her soft palm. “Am now.”

  “You seemed far away.”

  Very far. Halfway around the world, in another life.

  He cleared his throat. “Are you hungry?” Hours had passed since their last meal. After breakfast—which had been closer to lunchtime—and their nap, he woke her up again for another round of fucking. After feasting on her sweet little pussy, he hauled her up, and she rode him until they were both panting from earth-shaking orgasms. Jesus, he didn’t need food—he could eat her all day.

  “I put breakfast away,” she said with a delicate yawn. “We can heat it up.” She stretched her arms over her head and sat up, pulling his shirt around her body.

  Though he didn’t like that she covered up those lovely large tits, he did like seeing his clothes on her. The name on the right side of the uniform shirt had faded away long ago, but the idea of having his mark on her like that made him rumble in pleasure. That and his other marks on her, especially the traces of him between her legs.

  “I’d really like a shower.” Her pert little nose wrinkled. “I’m sure I could use one.”

  He shook his head, then pulled her down to him, making her squeal in surprise. “You smell fine.” Pressing his nose to the side of her neck, he inhaled. She smelled like him. He liked that. Having her wash it away did not please him.

  She laughed. “John, seriously. I haven’t taken a bath in over a day. I love bubble baths, and I could spend hours in one, but we probably don’t have that luxury up here. Is there enough power for a hot shower? Even for just a minute. I don’t want to use up what we have left.”

  His mate seemed really keen on a shower, and he supposed she was used to luxuries like unlimited hot water. “It’s fine. Use what you want.” A thousand cold showers would be worth it to make her feel more at home here.

  She rewarded him with a kiss to the nose. “Great.” Slipping out of bed, she bounded into the bathroom.

  Rolling onto his stomach, he pressed his face to the pillow, inhaling her scent, then continued off the bed. His feet landed on the hardwood floor with a loud thud.

  His inner bear let out a guttural sound. Seeing as Dutchy wasn’t in the room, he allowed it. But he warned his animal to behave.

  Padding over to the kitchen, he took the platters of food from the refrigerator and shoved them into the oven. The wood fire oven served as the only source of heat in the cabin, and the embers were nearly dying. As he strode over to the pile of wood in the corner, his gaze locked on the CB radio on the desk beside the firewood.

  Should check into HQ. No doubt the storm had caught them by surprise too. But then that meant they were probably slammed down there. There was no need to send someone up here right this moment, not when he and Dutchy were safe inside his cabin.

  As he threw the firewood into the oven, he imagined they were all-hands-on-deck down in HQ. The chief was probably directing the rangers, making sure there were no lost hikers or shifters. Garret Simpson would—

  No.

  Not Simpson. He wasn’t chief anymore. Not since he retired six months ago.

  Damon Cooper was boss now. Commander Cooper. Just like old times.

  When was the last time his commander had visited? Even if he did remember, he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint the date. Time and days didn’t have any meaning to him. He only knew the passage of time based on the seasons changing.

  When the commander found him all those years ago, he’d brought him here, to his hometown. Convinced him to join the rangers with him. Said it would be good for him, to be up here in nature and to be around others like them. He’d grown up in a small town in Minnesota, outside Duluth with his family before joining the Special Forces. But he couldn’t go back to them, not in his state, so he took up Cooper’s offer. The training was a breeze, compared to what he had gone through, and in the end, Garret Simpson gave him the permanent position of guarding the entrance to Contessa Peak. The old man had been perceptive, knew that he would thrive here, away from people. Of course, he was probably privy to his service records and knew what really happened back in Kargan.

  It was his job, what he’d signed up for when he joined the Special Forces. Intelligence had sent them info about a terrorist cell hiding in the basement of the market building, so Cooper sent Krieger and his team of five inside to investigate. But it turned out to be a trap, and the place was rigged with explosives. It crashed around him and his team. Being the only shifter, he managed to survive, but his human team wasn’t so lucky. It took three days to dig him out, but by then, it was too late for his men. They died around him. Slowly. Painfully.

  But the old chief didn’t know what happened after. No, no one knew. Only Damon.

  “John?”

  Her sweet voice shook him out of the past. Turning, he saw her standing in the bathroom doorway, clad in his shirt again, her hair damp from her shower. “Good?”

  The smile that lit up her face was worth everything he had gone through to be here now. “It was heavenly. Thank you. I didn’t use up all the hot water, in case you wanted a shower too.”

  He grunted his thanks. “Food’s just heating up.”

  “Do you have any more coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  As he prepared the brew, she sat down at the table. “Any word about the roads? Is the radio working?”

  Guilt poured through him, but he squashed it down. “Not yet. With the sudden storm, I imagine they’re busy down there.”

  “Um … do you have anyone who might be looking for you? Wondering if you’re lost. Or why you h
aven’t gone back home?”

  His back stiffened. “No.” He turned around. “Why would they?”

  She looked relieved. “Good.” Her hand slapped over her mouth. “I mean. Sorry. For the way that sounded. I just … I should have asked. If you had a … uh, girlfriend or something.”

  It took him a second to figure out what she was asking. “No. No one.” His mouth went dry as his bear reared up, but he needed to know. “And you?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “No one like that.”

  He’d never felt relief like he did now. Not even when they pulled him from the rubble of what was left of that market.

  She flashed him a shy smile. “So … um, do you like being a ranger?”

  Did he like it? He wasn’t sure what to say. “It’s my job.” That came out gruffer than he’d liked. “It’s good.”

  “Ah.” Her teeth bit into her lush lower lip.

  “Just got the fire going again.” He nodded at the oven. “Food’s warming up.”

  “Do we only have eggs and bacon?”

  “There’s other stuff in the pantry. And some steaks and potatoes in the fridge.” HQ always sent plenty of food every week. He didn’t need anything fancy, but as a shifter, he needed plenty of fuel.

  “Oh. That’s nice that they keep this cabin stocked for emergencies.”

  Emergencies?

  “I mean, I’m not complaining. Steaks and potatoes sound good. But some veggies would be nice too. Preferably cooked by a professional and served to me by a waiter. I’d even settle for Chinese takeout or a pizza.” She chuckled. “I can’t cook to save my life, I’m afraid. Ironic, since my aunt owns one of the best pie shops in town.”

  “Pie shop?”

  “You haven’t been?”

  “No.” He’d never been into Blackstone town. Sure, he’d heard the other guys talk about Main Street, but never had the inkling to go. During his year of training, he kept to himself in the barracks the rangers provided.

  “We should go.” Her eyes lit up. “Aunt Rosie is the sweetest person in the world, you’ll love her. And her pies. All made fresh daily by hand. My favorite is cherry with extra whipped cream. Plus, my other aunt’s dress shop is just down the street. You can meet them both at the same time.”

  He stared at her, the wheels in his head turning. When she didn’t say anything, he realized she was waiting for an answer for him.

  “I mean. If you want.” Her shoulders sank, and she curled her body inward, her gaze dropping to her lap.

  She wanted him to leave the mountains. Come down to town. Meet her family. It dawned on him that she assumed this was some kind of emergency shelter for rangers. Not his actual home.

  The look of hurt on her face from his silence was evident, and his bear threatened to tear him up, angry that he had been the one to put it there. Pushing his bear deep inside, he cleared his throat. “Pie sounds good.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t quite the truth she wanted, either.

  A small smile curled up at the corners of her mouth, and the tension between them eased. “I promise, Aunt Rosie and Aunt Angela are super nice. They’re the reason I moved here. To Blackstone. I got my fashion design degree from Parsons in New York, and I was doing all these dead-end internships. I came to visit one time and … I don’t know. Something about this place just called to me, you know? My aunts seemed happy here, even though they moved away from our skulk from Connecticut.” She curled a lock of red hair around a finger. “I thought, I would be too. The cost of living was low enough, and I had already started my business online, creating a few pre-made pieces and taking commissions. Then I met these girls, and I eventually designed their wedding dresses. I wasn’t really keen on making wedding dresses and I didn’t want to compete with Aunt Angela, but she assured me we have different markets. Then when I made Sybil Lennox’s dress last year, things just kind of exploded and.…”

  He listened to her talk, fascinated by how animated and passionate she was about her work. Every word absorbed in his brain—how could it not? While he was proud of her and what she had accomplished, his stomach knotted at the realization that she already had her own life. Outside this cabin. Filled with dinners out and parties. With friends and family.

  Idiot.

  Of course she had her own life. What did he expect? That she would live here with him, in the middle of nowhere, away from everything and everyone she knew just because he was too fucked up in the head to be around other people?

  That selfish part of him said, yes. He could make her happy. Devote his days and nights to giving her pleasure and serving her every need. Up here. Away from everyone.

  But he knew that wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. Couldn’t trap her here. She didn’t deserve that. This was his prison. Not hers.

  “John?” Her head cocked to the side.

  “Food should be hot.” Turning his back to her, he went to the oven and took out the platters of food.

  “You’ll burn yourself!” she cried as she came up behind him.

  The heat from the platters seared his fingertips. “It’s fine.” He dropped them on the counter. “It’ll heal.”

  “Silly man.” With a sigh, she wrapped her hands around his wrists and kissed his fingers. Lifting her head, she stared up at him, those beautiful light blue eyes boring right into his soul.

  How could he give her up? But how could he trap her here? His bear fought him, raging inside him. She must have sensed it as her auburn brows drew together, but he quickly shut his animal away.

  “John—”

  He silenced her with a kiss. A deep, rough kiss that demanded her attention. Arms wrapped around his neck, and he lifted her up so he could carry her back to bed. This would have to be enough for now. He would enjoy her body and her company. Maybe the snowstorm would continue on. Forever. And he wouldn’t have to face the sobering reality that lay ahead for them.

  Another night had passed, and when Krieger woke up the next day, his stomach filled with ice. He didn’t have to look out the window to know that the storm had passed. He just did.

  His arms tightened around Dutchy. Just a little longer. He would hold on to her as long as he possibly could. But eventually he would have to let go.

  He breathed in her scent, committing this moment to memory. The softness of her skin, the way her curves fit into his body, how her coppery hair caught aflame in the morning light. Lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes. “John?”

  Rolling her under him, he caught her mouth in a kiss. He savored it, the taste of her. The feel of her. She moaned, and her thighs parted, allowing him access. He slipped into her, knowing this could be the last time.

  She was magnificent. The sex was phenomenal. Their movements were quick and frantic, but he was determined to make it last, letting her come at least twice before he let go for the last time, marking her deep inside, even as she left an indelible mark on him.

  Bliss glazed over her eyes and her face lit up with her smile. “Hmmm …” Her hands ran down his chest, raking over his skin. “What a way to wake up.”

  Don’t let go.

  Don’t leave me.

  He rolled over, away from her. “I need to go … to the bathroom.”

  “Hmm-kay, but can I take a shower after? Or you want to join me?”

  “Maybe,” he mumbled as he padded toward the bathroom. After cleaning up and finishing his business, he strode out. The bed was empty as Dutchy strode toward the front door.

  “John, look!” She threw the door open, stepped out, spread her arms, not caring that she was completely naked. “Oh. It’s beautiful out here.”

  “Yes.” He swallowed the lump growing in his throat as he soaked in the sight of her.

  “Storm’s passed.” She gave a little shiver and then hopped back across the threshold, closing the door behind her. “Do you think they can send someone out for us?”

  “I’ll ask.” He lumbered over to the radio and planted himself on the rickety chair. Flipping the switch on, he
pressed on the call button. “Base, this is Countess. Can you read me, over?”

  A crackle of static broke through the silence. “This is Base. Nice to hear from you, Countess. Hope the storm wasn’t too bad for you. Over.”

  “All good here, Base. But gonna need transport for a stranded guest. Over.”

  There was a pause before the speakers burst out again. “Roads are still impassable to the peak.” Hope surged in him. “But, if your guest can make it to the next station in sector L, we can send someone to meet him up there. Over.”

  He turned to Dutchy. “Sector L’s about a click—a kilometer—away.” He glanced down at her feet. “I don’t have shoes for you, you’ll have to shift or let me carry you.”

  “My fox can make that,” she said, her tone excited.

  “Send transport when you can,” he said into the radio. “Over and out.” Putting down the receiver, he turned to her. She seemed so happy about leaving here, he almost didn’t mind the hole slowly forming in his chest. “When do you want to leave?”

  “Can we go now? Oh!” She glanced around. “I don’t have any clothes. Do you think there’s anything here I can borrow?” She dashed toward the lone closet in the corner.

  “You can wear my shirt.”

  “It’s your uniform, I can’t take that.” She poked her head into the closet. “Besides what are you going to wear? It’s—oh!” Her hand pulled out one of his flannel shirts triumphantly. “This should work!” With her excitement, she didn’t seem to notice that everything in the closet had been his personal clothes.

  Putting on the shirt, she glanced down. “This should do until I get home or I can borrow more clothes.” With a grin, she struck a model-like pose with her hands on her hips. “What do you think?”

  “Looks … good.”

  Her mouth twisted. “I promise, I have better clothes back home. And maybe other things.” Her eyebrows wiggled at him. “So, when can we go? Do you need some time to get ready?”

  “No.” The single word came out in a hoarse whisper. “You can go anytime.”

  “Great!”

  He grabbed his jeans, hopped into them, and followed her outside. She had slipped off the shirt and stood on the porch, naked. “Do you need some space to shift?”