Chapter 1 #2
He checked his GPS, but as usual for Tierney, they were miles from any kind of marked trail.
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and he swept the tree line, his hand hovering over his holster.
Due to their activity, he hadn’t been able to bring an arsenal, but he had his Sig, a Havak rifle, and some creative countermeasures for perimeter security that night.
Just enough he’d be able to relax — maybe get a few hours of sleep instead of standing guard the entire time.
The wind rustled the branches, a bunch of dead leaves twirling in the breeze, but nothing else moved within the shadows. He filed away the intel, then hurried after her, falling back a half-step to cover any blind spots.
Tierney continued for another forty minutes before she stopped at a sheltered depression surrounded by massive stumps.
Though they’d veered back toward the coastline, he couldn’t see the ocean, just heard the muffled echo of the pounding surf far off in the distance.
Smelled the hint of brine in the cool air.
She shuffled off her pack, leaning it against a trunk as she unpacked their supplies.
Buck followed suit, pitching a tarp between two trees before making a few rounds of the perimeter — stringing tripwires armed with percussive caps and magnesium strips.
Nothing lethal, just some light and sound in case anyone got curious.
By the time he’d circled the encampment, a small fire crackled in the middle of the clearing, the golden glow chasing away the encroaching night as they settled next to each other on a large log, the wavering flames casting dancing shadows across the spongy carpet of pine needles and moss.
Tierney handed him some cocoa, nudging his shoulder. “We secure?”
He took a sip, warming his hands on the mug. “I know what you’re thinking, but you’ll thank me when Bigfoot tries to steal your boots in the middle of the night.”
She rolled her eyes. “First, he’d take your boots, not mine. Second, I would have set up the lines, myself, if you hadn’t. You know I can’t sleep if the area’s not secure.”
“You barely sleep when it is, and never more than a few hours at a time.”
Her smile faltered, her bottom lip trembling for a moment before she sighed. “Old habits.”
He reached over, squeezed her hand. “Maybe it’s time you made some new ones.”
She merely nodded, drinking her hot chocolate as night fell around them, the damp air rolling in off the ocean, bringing a layer of fog through the timber.
It wove through the branches, lifting about twenty feet off the ground before flattening out, trapping a bit of the heat from the fire as the misty vapor curled around them.
Tierney inched closer, pressing her thigh against his, the crickets kicking up a rhythmic beat as all the adrenaline from the hike and climb faded into weary exhaustion.
She studied him for a moment, smiling when he arched a brow before resting her head on his shoulder, the gentle weight kicking him hard in the chest.
He closed his eyes, drank in the scent of wood smoke and that unique aroma that lingered around her like a half-forgotten memory before placing his hand over hers, threading their fingers together.
He’d been waiting months to get this close, and he’d be damned if he did anything to break the intimate atmosphere.
The fire popped, tiny embers lifting into the air before winking out as the moon rose above the fog, adding a slight shimmer to it. He gazed at the flames, enjoying the radiant heat as she released a slow breath, looking up at him when he chanced a quick peek.
She smiled, and he knew he could spend a lifetime living for stolen moments like this. “Feels like it’s going to be colder than we thought, tonight.”
He nodded, though the air didn’t hold the scent of rain, yet. “It should be clear all night. We can always bring the sleeping bags out here — cuddle around the fire.”
Her eyes widened, her lips pursing for a moment before she lifted her head, cocked it to one side. “Knowing you, that was already part of the plan.”
“You’re not the only one with demons, Tier. You know I have trouble settling when I feel exposed.”
“What happened to the perimeter being secure?”
“It is, it’s just…” He sighed. He couldn’t really explain it, either, other than the moss and those cut branches still gnawed at the part of him he’d lost to the car bomb. The one that saw patterns he couldn’t always explain.
“You could have stayed home.”
“And leave you hanging? I don’t think so.” He leaned closer. “I promised I’d always have your back, and I don’t break my promises. Besides, I would have spent the entire time worrying, so…”
“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
“Never said you couldn’t. But who wants to go it alone if they have another option?” He reached out, tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. “Trust me. I’m exactly where I want to be.”
She scoffed as she scanned the area. “In the middle of nowhere, hoping Bigfoot doesn’t steal your boots?”
He shook his head, the truth slipping free before he could think about the consequences. “With you.”
She stilled, only, it felt different than all the other times she’d frozen before shying away. Heavier, as if his words had bled out all the oxygen. He held his breath, searching her eyes, wondering if he’d ruined everything when she leaned in, lips slightly parted, eyelids fluttering.
Restraint vanished. Drifted away like the smoke in the breeze as he brushed his thumb along her cheek, hoping all the calluses on his hand didn’t scratch her skin as he cupped her jaw.
He closed the distance, stopping for a second with his mouth an inch from hers — giving her the chance to pull back.
Instead, she closed her eyes, touched her lips to his.
Destiny.
Or maybe just a year’s worth of longing bubbling to the surface, crushing any lingering doubts as he slid his hand back, threading his fingers through the bottom part of her ponytail as he pressed his mouth to hers, drinking her in with a hum of satisfaction.
He didn’t push, savoring the feel of her soft skin against his as he eased back, smiled, then kissed her again. Harder, this time. More urgently as she fisted his hoodie, dragged him closer.
He twisted, his other hand landing on the small of her back, holding her tight as he kissed his way down her neck, nipping at her shoulder muscle through the layers of clothes before inching back up, reclaiming her mouth.
Either he’d hit a sensitive spot, or she’d been holding back as much as he had because she shivered, then slid her fingers around the back of his neck, scratching at his scalp as she shifted, pressing into his chest.
One of the voices in his head warned him not to overreach — to let her lead. But his damn brain wasn’t getting the signals. By the time he made the connection, he had her mouth twisted open, his tongue tangling with hers as he pulled her hair free of the band, fisting a mass of it in his hand.
Tierney inhaled as she put an inch of space between them, her gaze searching his, and for a moment, he thought she’d pull back. Until she moved, shuffled onto his lap, wrapped both arms around his neck and leaned in.
The next kiss was carnal. A clear declaration of war he intended to win as he gathered her close, every inch touching as he drowned in the taste of her.
The fire crackled behind her, the warmth nothing compared to the press of her body against his, the way she seemed reluctant to pause for more than a second.
Just enough to grab a breath, smile. He’d just tucked his arms under her ass with every intention of either carrying her to their sleeping bags or just laying her down on the carpet of needles and moss when a blinding white flash lit up the forest as a deafening boom ripped through the dark timber directly east of their position.
Buck didn’t think, didn’t hesitate, just broke the kiss, taking them both to the ground behind the log, kicking dirt over the fire as he went. It sputtered, then died, plunging the campsite into utter darkness as that crack echoed through the canopy.
He drew his Sig, shifting enough Tierney could grab her Beretta, as he searched the tree line, looking for any hint of movement. Hoping he hadn’t just overreacted to a raccoon searching for scraps.
Branches snapped off to their right, footsteps pounding the ground.
Chaotic. Loud, with no sense of direction as the person thrashed back and forth through the underbrush.
Buck zeroed in on the shadow lumbering through the ferns, the guy’s head in his crosshairs when he burst into the clearing, blood dotting his shirt, lengths of thorny vines wrapped around his legs.
He wore a thin, white tee with a barcode inked across the breast pocket atop orange cargo pants, one foot missing a boot.
The man stumbled to a halt, eyes wild, hair littered with pine needles and dirt. “Run—”
A heavy, suppressed thwip, then the guy’s head snapping back as two more shots punched through his chest. He jerked, then fell, blood splattering across the dirt, more pooling beneath him as he twitched once, then stilled.
A second of silence. Of the forest holding its breath before more rounds pelted the log, chipping away chunks of wood as radios crackled nearby.
A couple of clipped orders blended in with the hiss of the dying fire, too muffled to make out any words, but enough to convince Buck this wasn’t a police op.
That it was anything but legal.
Buck racked the slide of his Sig, already working through his next five steps. He didn’t know who these assholes were, what game they were playing out in the woods, but he was about the blow the rules wide open.