“Wait,” he ordered, his mouth so close to her ear that his hot breath warmed her skin, even through the knit of her hat. “Go slowly. The girls aren’t the only living things in these mountains.”
The sense of his words penetrated, and she stopped fighting his hold. As soon as her struggling ceased, he released her. Continuing more cautiously toward the spot where she’d seen the motion, Artie scanned the trees and brush, desperately hoping to get a glimpse of one of the girls. There was nothing there, though, and her shoulders slumped.
“Sorry.” She turned toward Derek. There was a lull in the wind, so she didn’t have to scream to be heard. “I must have imagined it.”
Each disappointment—not finding the girls hiding by the reservoir, the dog losing their trail, this latest false alarm—was harder to take, especially as the snow began to swirl again as the wind resumed its howling. Her feet stopped moving as frustration and worry settled heavily on her shoulders.
Derek brushed past her, his eyes on the ground. He moved through the trees, apparently searching for something.
“What?” She was back to yelling. Her abused throat complained, making her wince.
Instead of answering out loud, Derek pointed at the ground. Moving toward him, Artie saw an impression in the sheltered area between two protruding tree roots. She crouched for a better look, and Derek followed suit.
“Shoe print?” The snow was dry and shallow, but there was a definite top and bottom curve to the impression. The problem was that it wasn’t a child-size print. The snow was new, so the shoe print was, too. Artie couldn’t stop herself from looking around the gathering gloom. Her neck prickled with the feeling of being watched.
“Yes.” Derek looked grim as he scanned the area. “And not from a little girl’s boot.”
“Could it be from one of the other searchers?”
“Not unless someone got lost.” His gaze raked the trees surrounding them again. “Really lost.” Taking his cell phone from his pocket, he crouched and took a picture. As he started to rise, Artie put a hand on his knee, stopping him.
“Wait.” She dug in her own coat pocket and pulled out a pack of gum that she placed by the print, careful not to smudge the edges. “Take another picture. The gum package will help scale it.”
“You’ve been watching those cop shows again?” he teased, but he took a couple more photos before putting away his phone.
She returned the gum to her pocket, giving the boot print a final worried look. “We did a unit on forensics last month.”
“You taught third-graders about blood spatter and gunshot residue?” Derek stared at her, although the corner of his mouth was twitching.
With a shrug, she said, “It was more fingerprints and photographs, but sure. They loved it.”
He grinned, tapping the screen on his phone. “I’m sure they did.”
When his brief smile disappeared, Artie asked, “What’s wrong?”
“No cell reception,” he explained, returning his phone to his pocket. “I was trying to text one of those pictures to the sheriff.”
Artie shivered, and bile burned the base of her throat. “Do you think someone…took them?” Just the act of saying the words out loud made awful images play in her mind.
After glancing at her face, which she was sure was a nasty shade of green, Derek slid an arm around her shoulders. “Doubtful. Can you imagine someone trying to snatch those girls against their will? They’d scream their heads off at the very least, if not take the guy down. C’mon, let’s go find them.”
“Sure.” Forcing a smile, Artie began walking again. As she called for the girls, blinking small, biting snowflakes from her eyes, she turned her head back and forth, searching for any movement. When she glanced back at Derek, she saw he’d regained his grim expression, and his gaze was cautious, watchful. Swallowing hard, she went back to scanning for the children…and whoever else was out there in the storm.
A burst of sound from the radio made Artie jump.
“Unit calling, you’re unreadable,” Derek shouted into the mic as he tried to shield the portable from the wind.
“Warne…ay.” The scratchy sound of George’s voice broke through the static, but just bits and pieces of the words were understandable. Artie met Derek’s gaze and saw her own frustration mirrored in his eyes.
“Re…base…ound…”
“Wait.” Leaning closer to the radio, Artie strained her ears, mentally cursing the wind. “Did he say ‘found,’ as in the girls are found?”
“Not sure.” Despite his doubtful words, his face lit with hope. “Holloway, please repeat.”
The connection was even worse that time. At the end, though, three words were as clear as could be.
“Return to base.”
“They must be found,” Artie said, starting to smile. “If they’re pulling us in, they must have the girls.”
“Copy, return to base,” Derek said loudly into the radio before grinning at her as he hooked the portable onto his belt. “They could just be pulling us in because of this storm, but—”
“But I heard ‘found.’ I definitely heard ‘found’!” With a squeal that would’ve embarrassed Artie at any other moment, she grabbed him in a hug. He didn’t hesitate to pull her tight to his chest. Pressing her forehead against his breastbone, she relaxed for the first time in what felt like days. She’d missed Derek’s hugs. They’d always made her feel so cherished and safe. Even during that long, awful night in jail, she’d felt like everything would be okay because Derek was with her. Nothing had been okay after that, though, since he’d broken up with her the very next day.
Reality returned, and Artie, feeling awkward, extricated herself from the embrace. Turning to face the way they’d come, she started walking.
“Artemis.”
Derek’s shout made her stop and turn.
“This way.” He continued in the direction they’d been going.
Confused, Artie hurried to catch up with him. “Aren’t we returning to base?”
“Not until the storm settles,” he told her.
That didn’t lessen her confusion, and her brows drew together. “So we’re going to walk the wrong way until then?”
He laughed. “The remains of an old cabin are a quarter mile from here. There won’t be any heat—or much of a roof—but it’ll provide a little shelter until the wind lets up.”
Shelter of any kind sounded wonderful, so Artie fell in behind him. The wind ripped through the trees, peppering any exposed skin with snow. The stinging cold took away her breath, and she tilted her head down and to the side to avoid the worst of the impact.
Snowflakes clumped on her lashes, making it even harder to see through the snow-laden gusts. Even though Derek was only a few feet in front of her, she had a panicked image of him disappearing into the storm, leaving her alone. She ran a couple of steps until she was right behind him and grabbed the back of his jacket.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at her.
Great. Now I’ll have to tell him I’m a big chicken. “Nothing.”
His mouth quirked, and she braced herself for his teasing, but he just faced forward. Despite the embarrassing moment of getting caught clinging to his back like a baby opossum, she didn’t let go. Instead, she walked as close behind him as she could, appreciating the way his broad back cut the wind.
When he stopped, she bumped into him. Derek reached a hand back to steady her and didn’t remove it from her hip even after she’d regained her bearings. She wasn’t about to complain.
“This is it,” he said, and she peered around his arm to see the crumbling shack in front of them.
Artie blinked. “Wow.” The tiny cabin looked as if the next strong gust would knock it down. The roof sagged, and there were sections missing. The structure had shifted, and the tattered, cockeyed do
or was propped open. Artie doubted that it would even close anymore, judging by the lopsided shape of the frame.
“Told you it was pretty far gone.” He ducked through the low entrance into the darkness. After a second of hesitation, she followed, stopping just inside to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim light. The relief from the battering wind was immediate.
“As long as we’re not sharing it with a bear, I’ll take it.” She looked around the tiny space. To her relief, no bears or any other woodland creatures were present.
Derek gave a distracted smile as he crouched on the other side of the cabin, examining something on the floor.
“What’d you find?” she asked, squatting next to him.
“Lighter.” He held it up so she could see. “And cigarette butts. Someone else was in here not too long ago.”
The shiver making its way down her spine had nothing to do with the cold. “Define ‘not too long ago.’”
He moved one of the butts with his gloved finger. “Sometime over the last few months, I’m guessing.” His expression was teasing when he glanced at her. “Although I could be wrong, since I didn’t get to take your forensics class.”
Standing, she bumped his boot lightly with one of hers. “Funny.”
His hand curled around her calf as he grinned up at her, and both her heart and her stomach did a roller-coaster swoop. As he released her and straightened to his full height, Artie remembered how it felt to have him next to her, so strong and protective.
Trying to shake off the longing he inspired so easily, she asked, “No picture for the sheriff this time?”
“Nope. I’ll let him know about it, though. It’s probably kids, but we can’t have them burning down the forest. Enough damage was done by the wildland fire this past summer.” He roamed to the other side of the cabin, examining old bits and pieces of furniture that remained from the long-ago homeowners. “Hang on.”
“What is it?” Joining him next to an old wooden crate, she crouched beside him again. “Wow. This is ancient.”
“Yeah, but this isn’t.” He carefully opened a plastic grocery bag inside the antique box. “Neither are these.”
As she leaned forward to peer at the contents of the bag, she teetered and put her hand out to catch her balance. His thigh muscle tightened under her palm, and she flushed red as she removed her fingers from his leg as casually as possible. Risking a glance at his face, she saw that he was staring at her, not the plastic bag. Their gazes caught for a few seconds before she managed to tear hers away and focus blindly on the crate. When she realized what the plastic bag contained, she blinked.
“That’s strange.” She pushed the plastic out of the way more so she could see all of the items. “And random. Nail polish remover, hair spray, rubbing alcohol, paint thinner, linseed oil…it’s like a medicine cabinet and a wood shop got together.”
Pulling a box of matches from between two of the containers, Derek held it so she could see. “Not that random. These are all very flammable.”
Her breath caught in her chest as she realized the ramifications of what they’d found. “The wildland fire.” When she met his unusually grim gaze, she almost didn’t want to ask. “Do you think it was set by the person who left this stuff here?”
“The fire chief’s official word was that the cause was inconclusive, but I’m pretty sure he had a feeling in his gut that screamed ‘arson.’ We’ve been having a string of those, actually.” Derek pulled out his radio and attempted to reach Rob, but only silence followed his transmissions. Swearing under his breath, he pulled out his phone and took some pictures before straightening. When he offered his hand to her, she gripped it and let him pull her to her feet. Once she was standing, neither one of them let go.
“So we might be in an arsonist’s lair.” Her words had a tremor, thanks to her chattering teeth. Now that she knew the girls were safe and she wasn’t walking, the cold had crept under her clothes. She told herself that her shakiness had nothing to do with worry that a criminal might return at any moment.
Derek looked at her sharply. “Come here.” He reached out and caught her hands, pulling her toward him.
“I’m fine,” she protested, although her words were contradicted by a hard shudder that rocked through her.
“Quit being stubborn.” His tone was affectionate as he caught her against his chest, backing them into the corner with the fewest holes in the walls. Although she frowned at his bossiness, she couldn’t resist tucking her face against his neck and warming her cold nose.
When he reached between them and unzipped his coat, she pulled back, startled. “What are you doing?”
He switched to unzipping her jacket, and she flinched as the cold air instantly chilled her middle. “I’m sharing my body heat. And I was hoping to steal a little of yours.”
Derek pulled her close again as she opened her mouth to respond. The hard warmth that pressed against her belly and breasts made her close her mouth before she did something embarrassing, like moan with pleasure. As he wrapped the edges of his coat around her back, she returned her face to the spot under his chin. The heat made her realize how very cold she’d been.
“Tuck in a little closer,” he said, his voice low. He and his fabulous warmth were too tempting to refuse. Sliding her arms around him under his coat, she squeezed, flattening her front to his. “Perfect.” His voice sounded rough.
Artie heard the slide of the zipper behind her. It was a tight fit in his zipped coat, but she basked in his heat and comfort.
“We could’ve just used the emergency blanket from the backpack,” she said without moving.
“Sure, but this way’s more fun.”
Wrapped up in his heat, Artie had to agree. As she grew warmer, she realized how tired she was.
“Can we sit?” she asked, her words muffled against his throat.
“We can try.” Amusement touched his voice as he shifted to lean against the rough wall and started to lower his body. She came along with him, since they were bound together by his coat.
Tipping her head back a little so she could see his face, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Suddenly, I have empathy for conjoined twins.”
“I know. Here.” His hands caught the backs of her thighs, lifting her feet off the floor before she even processed what he was doing. “Put your legs around me.”
As she followed his direction, she flashed back to other times with Derek where her legs had been wrapped around him. Flushing, she pressed her face against his shoulder to hide her expression. With surprising ease, he lowered himself to a sitting position with Artie on his lap, her legs still tangled around his waist.
For a long minute, they sat quietly as the wind howled outside their dilapidated shelter.
“Shit, Artie,” Derek finally sighed. “I’ve missed this.”
So had she…so much that it was scary to admit out loud. She tried to force a chuckle. “What? Sitting in frozen squirrel poop in the middle of a blizzard?”
“No.” For once, he sounded completely serious. “I’ve missed holding you. I’ve missed you.”
His words stripped her bare. She leaned back as far as his zipped coat would allow so she could meet his gaze. “Derek…”
Tucking a strand of her hair back under her cap, he gave her a crooked smile. “You’re so beautiful, Artemis Rey.”
Whatever she’d been about to say was forgotten, wiped away by his expression. It was hunger and wistfulness and longing, all directed at her. How had she managed to let him go four years ago? After just a few minutes in his arms, she didn’t ever want to leave him again. All she wanted was to stay wrapped in his coat and his arms forever.
Her face must’ve revealed her thoughts, because his breath caught. He leaned closer, and Artie fought to keep her eyes from closing, not wanting to look away from him. It’d been so long. She didn’t want to miss a seco
nd of his kiss.
Their lips met lightly, and she sighed, contentment underlying the excitement and need churning inside her. He pulled back, and Artie’s stomach clenched, worried that it was over already, but he just checked her expression before leaning in for a second kiss, as sweet and delicate as the one before.
The featherlight contact lasted only two seconds before Artie was pressing closer, her arms and legs tightening around him, trying to increase the contact. His lips turned up in a smile under hers, and he palmed the back of her head. He felt so familiar and, at the same time, so thrilling. After nipping at her lower lip, Derek soothed it with his tongue. She groaned into his mouth, loving that he remembered what she liked.
As he deepened the kiss, he dropped his other hand to the small of her back, and then lower to cup her ass. He tucked her closer, digging his fingers into her flesh. Even through all of their layers, he felt amazing, comfortable yet new. Artie rocked her hips into his, wanting more, needing him, not caring about the freezing temperature and screaming wind.
His hands and mouth were urgent, as if desperate to make up for the years of separation in just one kiss. Artie didn’t mind, since she was just as eager and needy. When he touched his lips beneath her jaw, she tilted her head back with a low groan. He kissed the hollow of her throat and then worked his way back toward her mouth.
“God, Artie,” he muttered barely an inch from her skin, his breath so hot it burned. “I’m still crazy about you. Even when I knew I was dragging you down, the hardest thing I’d ever done was to break things off with you.”
Inhaling sharply, she parted her lips, meaning to tell him how she’d fallen apart when he’d left, how she hadn’t been able to stop mentally comparing Randy to Derek, and how every time she had done so, her husband—her husband—had come up short. When she’d signed the divorce papers, her first thought, quickly quashed, had been of Derek, and how maybe they could get a second chance.
All she managed to get out, though, was a choked, “I—” before his mouth crashed down on hers. The kiss was even more frantic this time, consuming her with its urgency. Feelings that had stayed dormant, hiding deep inside of her, woke in a fury, roaring to the surface and making her dig her nails into his shirt as a moan escaped her throat.
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