Chapter 22
WOLF
Kissing Molly on the lips was where my morning peaked, unfortunately.
On my first patrol of the day, I came across two more of those fucking traps I thought I’d rid my assigned zone of.
Thankfully, they were empty of any animals, but some fuck has a sadistic streak a mile thick they need to be relieved of.
Add to that, the damn cougar is still toying with us.
Plenty of reports of sightings, but none of capture.
Asking Forest if I can cut out for the evening should be fun.
I hop out of the truck and head straight to the front door, blazing a steady trail to the main office where Forest mostly sets up shop.
He runs our small family squad mainly from behind his desk apart from morning and afternoon rounds.
I give a quick knock on the doorframe before strolling right in and getting comfortable in one of the chairs across from the desk.
“What’s up?” he asks, looking between two different pieces of paper in his hands.
“I know we’ve got a lot going on, but I was wondering if I could cut out early today,” I request, getting right to it.
He blows out a breath. “Not like you. Everything all right?”
“Yeah—no, well…just…things at home need my…attention,” I stammer through an on-the-fly explanation.
“Trouble in paradise?” He still hasn’t looked up.
“Yeah, you can say that, and anyway I just need to uh, spend some time with Molly tonight.”
“What kind of time?” He peers at me over one of the papers, his eyebrow raised.
I simply glare at him.
Forest’s face turns smug. “Got it. Yeah, the rest of us can handle this evening—none of this shit’s going anywhere.” He throws the papers down with a flutter and sits back with his hands behind his head. “So how can the God of the Bed Sheets prepare you for tonight?”
“What makes you think I need sex advice?”
“Because you sought out communication and your mouth is moving,” he says with widened eyes and a dubious quality to his tone.
“That can only mean you need something, and seeing as how you mentioned your need for some hours off I’m assuming you’re ready to bed your wife tonight. I took a shot in the dark.”
“Can you talk like you’re in this century, please?”
“And could you not deflect when you’re requesting my time?” He waves between the mess of papers on his desk and the still frame of the cock-blocking mountain lion on the trail cam that occupies his monitor screen.
“Fine,” I say, trying to keep my frustration in check. “Anyway, I’m not asking about mechanics, just a few helpful tips will do.”
“Well hopefully your own tip will be helpful.” River swings his upper body inside the office, gripping the frame and shooting us a triumphantly cocky look.
“Fuck off!” Forest and I both growl and River disappears again.
Forest reclines back in his chair, holding his hands out. “The best helpful…hint I can offer you is to do what feels natural,” he imparts.
“What the fuck?” Hawk practically jumps into the room.
“Great spirits take me now,” I plead under my breath, propping an elbow on the arm of the chair so I can rub a hand over my eyes.
“You tell him to do what comes naturally to him, and he’ll die of humiliation!” Hawk lectures Forest, holding his hand out as if to express the conviction in his words. If there is any.
“No...” Forest draws out as if he’s slowing his speech down for an idiot. Because he is. “If he does anything that’s unnatural, he’s going to be fixated on performance, which leads to anxiety?—”
Hawk moves to stand in front of me, blocking Forest from view as he perches on the edge of the desk.
“You’ve got to wow her. Show her you’re confident—not just in yourself but what you can do for her.
That pump action rifle in your pants? Show her how big it is and how hard and unyielding it is for her. ” He keeps talking with his hand.
“Do not follow the advice of this overcompensating fuckwad,” Forest says from behind him.
“It’s not overcompensating when it’s just reality.” Hawk lays his statement out plainly, punctuated with a sigh. “Women like the fireworks, so show her everything you’ve got. And add in a little dirty talk—that gets their engines revving. Just don’t go over the top.”
“And you can never get too creative with your tongue,” a completely new voice says.
My entire body goes rigid as a fucking plank.
Hawk’s head slowly rises from me to the doorway, his mouth agape, and I barely register Forest rolling his chair to peek around him.
I have to practically tell my upper torso to turn and regard the stranger in the doorway dressed peculiarly like he fell out of The Matrix.
Everything about him is dark, save for the friendly smile that almost dares to light up his impossibly dark eyes as he looks between the three of us.
“Excuse me, can I help you?” Forest is the first to speak with Hawk hot on his heels.
“Who the hell are you?”
Forest glares at Hawk and shoves him off his desk. Hawk moves, taking space against the wall next to my chair.
“Name’s Coal Valor.” The man slowly steps inside the office. “I came across a report of inhumane foothold traps on this terrain. I think maybe I can be of some help.”
“How’d you hear about that?” Hawk lifts a skeptical eyebrow.
“And an inhumane foothold trap is redundant,” I add.
“I agree.” He looks at me with a sincere look and then back to Hawk. “And it came up on my radar. I’m a…specialist, let’s say, in that kind of thing.” He pulls a rogue strand of black hair that’s come loose from his man bun behind his ear.
“What do you mean by specialist?” Forest rises from his seat and jams his hands in his pockets.
Coal blinks slowly as he nods. “I mean, I don’t exactly do things on book but…” He looks around, knowing full well he’s gotten the hackles of all three lawmen up, but proceeds confidently. “I can make the problem go away.”
Forest pulls his hands from his pockets, planting one on his hip while holding the other out and waving his fingers. “I’m going to need to see some identification and any and all credentials before we take this any further.”
“Of course.” Coal reaches into his jacket and produces a thick but compact envelope showing how prepared he was for what he was sure to encounter with a group of game wardens.
Forest’s eyebrows lift as he takes the envelope from him, immediately opening and perusing the contents.
“So where the fuck did you come from?” Hawk rests a foot up on the wall behind him and crosses his arms.
“I’m part of a certain justice organization chapter just about an hour outside of Seattle,” Coal explains easily.
Forest reaches past the brother who doesn’t give a flying fuck about professionalism to hand me Coal’s paperwork.
His weapon permits and driver’s license look completely official and valid, but the next document sends a jolt of adrenaline through my system.
When I look up, Forest nods with an I know expression painted over every inch of his features.
It’s a news article about an animal testing lab that had been ransacked, eradicated of all animal test subjects without a trace of evidence.
I move it to the back of the stack of documents to find another article about a dog fighting ring that had gotten the same treatment, only the alleged racketeers had been found at the scene locked in compact crates with choke collars.
Coal continues to calmly list his qualifications in correlation with what I’m reading. “I’ll just say I’m proficient in discretion and extremely skilled at…educating.”
It’s easy to read between his lines. He makes the problem go away by teaching extremely inconvenient lessons to the perpetrators. I don’t hate the sound of that. That said, the Owens outfit is tasked with upholding the law.
“We are dedicated to keeping our practice lawful,” Forest supplies for me, crossing his arms.
“Absolutely.” Coal gives an exaggerated nod in understanding. “Which is why I work alone and off book.”
“And if we refuse your help?” Hawk tips his head in question.
“Then you never saw me,” he explains simply.
I get the eerie feeling it really would be that simple. “So why even come to us?” I ask, handing him back all his paperwork. “Why even take the risk with a bunch of officers of the law?”
Coal purses his lips and gives a casual shrug, tucking all his papers back in his jacket. “I don’t usually get much pushback from cops or rangers. And I do just need a small bit of cooperation in this case.”
Forest and I exchange looks, having a nonverbal discussion before looking to Hawk as well.
We’re all pissed as hell over what happened to Finn, and we do have our hands full with the mountain lion.
It takes something off our plate with a side dish of poetic justice. All three of us nod imperceptibly.
Forest turns to him. “Come to think of it… I think our trail cams might be due for a downtime reboot.”
Forest requested one last thorough patrol in my zone before I cut out. That will give me enough time to beat Molly home and surprise her. Leaving Forest to square away a covert plan with the mysterious Coal, I venture out across the dirt lot toward my truck.
“Hey, Wolf,” Uncle Bert calls to me from the utility shed off the main lodge.
I tip my chin at him and reach for the driver’s side door handle.
He ambles over slowly, winding a garden hose around his arm. “I just want to drop my two cents in about your…impending plans.”
“Jesus Christ!” I drop my hands to my hips and look off to the side and then back at him.
“Your brothers are morons.” Bert ignores my little fit of a protest. “There’s a reason none of them have nailed down a lady, and it’s not because they’re too busy, they don’t want to, or they’re some kind of golden penis award-winning playboys.
” He rolls his eyes. “Although Forest was on to something with the doing what comes natural advice.”
“Great, so what have you got for me?” I huff out a breath, wanting to get this the fuck over with.
“Just enjoy each other.” He gathers up the hose.
I wait for more. “And?” I prod with a dip of my chin. .
He looks up, surprised. “Nothing, that’s it. Whatever you do or don’t do, don’t worry about it. Just focus on enjoying each other, and that’s all there is to it.”
He turns his back—apparently finished imparting wisdom— and carries the hose over his shoulder toward the shed.
I stand there like a tool of my own regard.
“Well, all right then,” I finally grumble, opening the door and hopping up into the cab.
Reaching over to the passenger seat, I rifle through my work duffle until my fingers wrap around one of the paperback books I surreptitiously liberated from Molly’s library nook.
I fan through the pages, assuming the steamy scenes are planted somewhere around the middle to back end of the book.
My eyes scan over some flowery verbiage that takes me down some fantasy path of foreplay before taking a sharp turn into what-the-fuck territory.
Tossing the book back on top of my bag, I take my hat off to rub my eyes.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumble to no one before slapping my hat back on and turning the engine over.
As the car heats up, I try to prepare myself for when I get home.
It doesn’t have to be tonight, but I can’t think of a better way for Molly and I to reconnect than to pick up where we left off last time.
Fuck it. Just because she reads these things doesn’t mean they have to be followed like instruction manuals.
Tonight, I’m going to do everything my way.
Just because I haven’t done it before doesn’t mean my instincts won’t tell me what to do.
The foreplay, the touching, when I enter her—it’s going to be done my way.
As long as she’s open and responsive, we’re going to be okay.
Better than okay. She’s going to love it. We both are.
I put the truck in gear, just about to tear off, when a prominent knock on my window scares the shit out of me. I press the brake harder and roll my eyes—Uncle Bert stands beside my truck.
“Jesus, what the hell?” I ask, putting the window down.
“This is your friendly reminder to START. WEARING. A WEDDING RING. JACKASS.”
I look at my left hand as Uncle Asshole wanders back off to his chores. Guess I better make a stop or two on the way home.