North Country

Chapter 1

Emery

Twenty years ago, May

“Busted!” Logan’s chuckle carries over the music.

“Damn it.” My curse is punctuated with a creak as I try to slip up the stairs unnoticed. There’s no point in this charade anymore. I run the rest of the way, taking the steps two at a time, until I reach the loft above the Landrys’ garage that has become our sanctuary.

Logan is sprawled out in the middle of it on his back.

The only thing between his solid six-foot-two frame and the plywood floor is an unzipped sleeping bag that never leaves this room.

The window on the far side welcomes in afternoon sunlight, and the rays capture the dust in the air.

A five-disc stereo system clunks and whirs as it shuffles noisily to another CD, its display lights flashing like an ’80s techno party.

“Took you long enough.” He sounds groggy. I’ll bet he drifted off.

“I had a long shift.” I drop to my knees behind his head and peer into golden-hazel eyes that are indeed bleary from sleep. My stomach flutters. It always does around him.

He inhales. “You smell like chlorine.”

“Yeah, I had to pull a kid out of the pool.” I lean down to plant an upside-down kiss on his mouth before whispering, “Happy birthday.”

His plump lips curve into a smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re officially an adult.” I don’t turn eighteen until September, when we’re in Toronto for university. We were both accepted into the University of Toronto’s downtown campus—me, for criminology, Logan for mechanical engineering.

“That’s right, I am.” In the next beat, he’s reaching over his head to grab my ribs.

I squeal as he lifts and flips me around to land against him with little effort.

Another quick move and he has me on my back, my arms pinned over my head with one hand, long since calloused from helping around his family’s bison ranch.

“Are we still allowed to do this?” He punctuates the question by slipping his free hand under my shirt.

“Yes. As long as you’re not in a position of authority over me.”

Logan’s face dips toward my neck, his lips finding a sensitive spot below my earlobe. “Okay, Officer McAllister.”

“Wait! I want to give you your present.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” He guides my shirt up.

The warm spring air grazes my bare skin, stirring a base need. “No!” I tug against my restraints, but I can’t break free. He’s too strong. “I’ve been sitting on this forever.”

His fingertip traces the seam of my lacy bra before relenting with a groan of frustration as he releases me.

From my pocket, I slide out the envelope.

Logan’s eyebrow arches with interest as he collects it and gives it a shake.

I bite my bottom lip to quell my excitement.

“You’re kidding me.” He holds up the receipt for the two VIP Edgefest concert tickets, his eyes wide with disbelief. “But how? I couldn’t get through!”

My laughter is giddy. “I hit redial, like, a million times, as soon as they went on sale—”

He cuts off my words with a hard kiss before whispering, “This is fucking amazing. I wanted to go so bad.” I get another kiss and then, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I beam, grazing my nose against his. “You have no idea how hard this was to keep secret. I almost ruined the surprise so many times.”

He rolls onto his back to study the wooden beams zigzagging across the rustic ceiling. “Now I have to decide who I’m taking.”

“Umm, shut up.” I climb on top of him, straddling his jean-clad hips. “You better be kidding.”

He laughs as he grips my slender waist within his strong hands. “Of course it’s you, Em.” He stares up at me with a mixture of awe and desire.

The moment grows heady as I feel him reacting to my body pressed against his. “Can’t you skip going out with Jay tonight? Hang out with me?” I punctuate that by rocking my hips.

“You know I can’t. He’s my brother. He’s been planning this for weeks.”

“Yeah, but what exactly is he planning?” Because when Jay’s involved, mischief usually follows.

“I don’t know. He said something about popping my cherry.”

“What?” I shriek.

Logan chuckles. “We’re probably hopping across the border and going to a bar.”

“Super original.” I roll my eyes. With the border to Quebec only a half hour away, and the drinking age there eighteen, it’s a rite of passage around these parts.

But it doesn’t ease my nerves, given Jay’s always bragging about all the girls he hooks up with at the bars.

He’s five years older, charming, and he shares many of Logan’s physical features, which makes the two of them a lethal combo.

Logan pulls himself up to a sitting position, the ridges across his stomach flexing under his T-shirt. “And it’s too late for that anyway, right?”

I drape my arms over his shapely shoulders. Growing up on the Landrys’ thousand-acre ranch has sculpted his body far beyond his years. “He’s not gonna try to rope you into anything crazy, right?”

“Knowing Jay? Probably.” Logan sees my face fall with that frank admission. “Come on, Em. What are you worried about?”

I shrug, but Logan can read me as clearly as the print on those CD cases scattered beside us, just like I can read him. That’s what happens when you’ve known someone your whole life.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about.” He cradles my cheeks, leaning in to press his forehead against mine. “I told you already. It’ll always be you.”

A kaleidoscope of blinking blue and red lights splattered across my bedroom walls wakes me in the middle of the night. It takes a moment to cut through my bleariness, to understand what’s happening.

Those are police lights, and they’re coming from the Landrys’ next door.

A jolt of adrenaline hits me as I rush to the window where I have the perfect view of the white farmhouse and the one … two … three cruisers parked in the driveway.

And the uniformed police officers near the lit porch. My father stands among them, wearing the clothes he must have thrown on when he was dragged from bed to deal with whatever this mess is. Logan’s parents are there too, huddled in their pajamas.

With my pulse pounding in my throat, I watch as Annie Landry’s slight frame collapses in a heap.