Chapter 13
Kade
I want to believe her, I do, but I’ve seen too many people fooled by liars. Tears in their eyes they weep, while hiding the blood on their hands.
The goddamn kiss is to blame for my temporary insanity. The second our lips touched, my brain flatlined. She melted into me like she belonged there. Like we weren’t standing in the middle of the woods with a target on our backs, her ex buried nearby.
I should’ve stopped it. Now I’m wondering how much of this is chemistry, and how much is me being a freakin' idiot.
Whether victim or suspect, she’s off limits.
She sways slightly, blinking up at me. Still pale, pupils blown. Whatever she took is clouding her judgment.
At least she has an excuse.
“I’m going to find him. Clear my name.” She stumbles off — like I haven’t spent a whole week busting my hump to find her, dammit.
Jaw tensed, I twist her shoulders toward me. “You’re doing no such thing. You’re running on fumes. I promise you—once we get down the mountain, I will catch him.”
When she sways, it takes a shit load of restraint not to shake some sense into her. “Flygirl, you need to sit.”
“I’m fine.” When her fingers curl into my shirt, lust slams straight through me.
Feeling it too, she pushes me away. “Nothing personal. I simply don’t trust you.”
Her sucker punch nearly doubles me over.
Doesn’t trust me? Oh, that’s rich. Gritting my teeth, I cup her cheeks. “Listen up. I’ve been living outdoors, tracking you for a week. The State Police gave up on you days ago. Marked you down as dead, but I refused to stop looking.”
She rolls those gorgeous, chocolate brown eyes. “I’ll send your name to the pope to see if we can get you sainthood. I don’t care. I can track him myself, no offense.”
If there were a game show called Push My Button, the stubborn female would be the reigning champ ten years running.
Voice lowered to a dangerous whisper, I press my nose to hers. “My ancestors have lived on this mountain since the seventeenth century. No one knows this area better than me.”
Anyone else would’ve backed off. Not the feisty bobcat.
Slow and mocking, she shoves me away before clapping twice. “Impressive, Mr. Mayflower. Explains the whole New Englander-Puritan vibe. Search lead. Loyal hound. Let me guess… a dairy farm? A pickup with a rifle rack?”
Her barbs hit their mark. “For someone who claims she’s being stalked, you sure aren’t worried about being heard.”
Silent, her face flushes bright red.
What I wouldn’t give to have met her under different circumstances, blushing as I stripped her bare before sinking deep into her folds.
As I shake off inappropriate thoughts, I unroll my sleeping bag. For once, her smart mouth remains shut.
After I toss her a cold MRE, I park myself down by a tree. “Sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
“Give me the second shift. Wake me.” Her tempting, cute little butt wiggles as she crawls into my damn sleeping bag.
Not a chance, sweetheart. Jaw clenched, cock hard, I turn away.
Other than my discomfort, the night passes without incident. Even Becca, who loves chasing critters, stays close, snoring lightly.
At the ass crack of dawn, my suspect slips out the tent’s flap. Stretching tall, she squints into the sky, then scowls. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
I sigh. By now, whatever she took should have worked through her system. “Put yourself in my boots. What would you have done?”
Eyes much clearer than last night she nods. “Right. Thanks. Do I have time to clean up?”
Trying not to picture her naked, I point. “Stream’s to the north. Take Becca with you.”
When my dog trots to her side, the woman squats, grins, and pets her head vigorously. “Morning, sweetheart.”
Briana’s smile—the first real one I’ve seen—lights up the whole damn forest.
As she saunters away, I shake my head. “Get your damn act together, O’Malley. Focus on the mission.”
Copy that. Jetboil. Flame. Coffee down in three gulps. Stow gear. Noise. Weapon. Turn.
“Don’t shoot, Sheriff, it’s me.”
Holy shit. Her skin’s still damp, her face scrubbed clean. She’s braided her shoulder length brown hair and stolen one of my T-shirts. Damned if my libido doesn’t take notice of her bad-ass-girl-next-door vibe.
Closing my dropped jaw, I hand her my mug. “We should get going. We'll stay on the secondary path.”
As I kick sand into the fire, she takes a deep gulp. “Fine.”
“What? No argument? Well, that’s a first.”
She snorts mid-sip, spitting coffee. No girly giggle, it’s more of a bark. When it reaches her brown eyes, it kicks me in the nuts.
Yup, I’m a goner.
By the time we take our first break, the sun still hasn’t touched our deer trail—an Ice Age scar carved between the mountains.
Becca laps at her water, but the second I hoist my pack, she bolts into the pines on perimeter duty.
“I can carry the drone, if you want.” Briana catches my gaze, her pearly whites biting her lower lip.
“Sure.” Like I’d say no to an excuse to touch her.
I’m going straight to hell.
As I adjust the straps under her arms, our eyes lock. The heat that flickers in her dark pupils nearly burns me. For a moment, I think she’s going to kiss me again.
Instead, she glances away. “If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t act much like a lawman.”
Chuckling, I start down the hill. “Yeah? How do you mean?”
“For one thing, you kissed your suspect.”
“Purdy sure it was the other way around.”
“Okay, tell me—Why is a sheriff in charge of SAR? Don’t you have outlaws to catch? Shootouts at the OK Corral?”
“I’m also the lead volunteer firefighter.” Shrugging, I kick a stone off the path. “Small town. Lots of hats… What brought you to the Long Trail?”
Her heavy sigh makes me wish I hadn’t asked.
“Pretty simple. I got laid off. Not many folks hiring, so I threw my stuff in storage and took to the road. Figured I needed alone time.” No longer side-by-side, she trots down the mountain.
“Did you consider asking Brett?”
If I didn’t believe they’d broken up, her bitter laugh would convince me. “God, no. His idea of roughing it is a three-star hotel without a hot tub.”
“You two sound like opposites.” Huffing, I have to race to catch up to her.
“Exactly. Hence the ‘ex.’” There’s an edge in her voice.
Hell hath no fury? She probably shouldn’t be telling me all this. If anyone asks, I’ll have to tell them the truth.
For some reason, I feel the need to protect her. “First thing you should do when we get to town is hire an attorney. The FBI will be under pressure to press murder charges.”
She eyes the blue sky, then punches a tree. “Oh great. For the rest of my life, I’ll have to check the stupid box. You know the one—‘Have you ever been arrested?’ No one’s ever gonna hire me.”
Her pessimistic outlet doesn’t jive with the feisty pilot who saved me in Afghanistan. “If you’re innocent, you can have it expunged.”
“Right, no problem.” She shakes her head, lifting her knees over a fallen tree. “Haven’t you been listening? I’m homeless.”
“Surely, your family will help.” As I climb over the rotted wood, she groans, rolling her eyes.
“Don’t tell me. They’ve been calling nonstop.” When her hand reaches for mine, I take it.
“Over a hundred fifty calls and counting.”
“God, I’m so, so sorry. They’re… a bit much.” Her lashes lift, those brown eyes searching mine.
Whatever she’s looking for, I hope I measure up. “They made it sound like you were a missing teen.”
“Glad you said it, not me.” Her shoulders drop as if I passed some test.
While I understand her frustration, she’s going to need them. “Hey, if they hadn’t insisted on a search team, you might still be out there.”
Her bold gaze glued to mine, she clutches both my hands. “I never said thank you for saving me.”
“You’re welcome. I guess that makes us even.” The feelings churning in my chest are nothing I’ve ever wanted. On my own for years, a complex woman will mess up my simple life. And yet here I stand in the forest, holding hands with a suspected murderer.
Well, if I’m going to drown, I might as well enjoy it. I lean over to brush my lips across hers. It’s an experiment of sorts, to see if I imagined the first kiss. If my arousal was a result of her being handcuffed or drugged, I may be more fucked up than I thought.
Her palms slip from my grasp and slide under my ear, her fingers pressing an erotic zone at the top of my spine.
The nerve lightning strikes my cock which jumps to life. I cup her behind, pressing her tight to me. Wrong time, wrong place, baby. Nothing could be worse, but my libido doesn’t care one bit.
Our tongues tangle. I take the lead. She’s right there with me, every step of the way.
Once we come up for air, I simply stare, my heart thumping like I ran a mile. What just happened? Is it possible the drugs in her system entered mine via saliva?
I reject the thought, no way.
Her pupils have been normal since late last night. Whatever is going on cannot be blamed on anything but fucking pheromones.
Literally.
I need to slow things down. This should not be happening. No way, no how.
Shifting my pack onto my shoulders, I point down the path. “Time to go. Stay close and keep up.”