At three o’clock, she stood at the top of a cliff looking down on the four small lakes she’d been at the other day. Way down. She could see a few otters playing along the shore of the first lake, and as she stood there in awe, a fish leapt out of the water, executing a perfect gainer before flopping back.
Her legs were wobbling from the climb. Or maybe it was from looking down from the dizzying height, but in either case, she could hear her grandma’s voice in her head.
It felt like a promise. I had my hope, but now I had something else, too, peace. Four Lakes gave me peace.
Amy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, then opened them again, feeling them burn with emotion. Jesus, what was with her today? But there was no denying the truth. She’d been feeling flickers of hope ever since Sierra Meadows. It was new and tenuous, but it was there. As for peace, she hadn’t been quite sure. When she thought about her life, she knew she’d always lived it to survive. But she was beginning to see that there was more to life than mere survival, so much more. And maybe that was peace right there, just learning that.
Which left heart, something she’d never believed in for herself and had, in fact, openly mocked.
But she didn’t feel like mocking it now, and she had no idea if maybe that was thanks to Lucky Harbor, to the friends she’d made here, or… a certain forest ranger that was filling up something deep inside her that she hadn’t even known was empty.
Matt knocked at Amy’s door. He was early for their date because… well, he didn’t really have a reason, other than he wanted to see her. He had no idea what the night would bring, but if it went anything at all like their other encounters, it wouldn’t be boring.
Her car was in her parking spot but she didn’t answer. He knocked again, and then when she still didn’t answer, he tried the door. It opened, which didn’t make him feel better—Amy wasn’t a woman to leave her door unlocked. “Amy?”
Nothing, so he stepped inside. “Hello?”
Still nothing.
Her place was small enough that he could see from one end to the next. Her bedroom door was open, and he stepped closer. It looked like a bomb had gone off. A female bomb. Clothes spilled out of the dresser drawers and closet and were scattered across the bed, but no one was actually in any of the clothes.
The bathroom was damp and misty, as if she’d recently showered. There were girlie things on the counter, tubes and bottles, and the place smelled like sexy woman. A pair of black lace panties and matching bra lay on the floor. Nice. He turned back to the living room.
There was a small slider leading to a tiny deck area, and it was cracked open. He pushed it further. The thing squeaked like hell and was all but impossible to move, and yet the woman sitting with her back to him didn’t budge.
This was because she had in earphones that led to the phone or iPod in her pocket and she was singing.
Off-key.
She was drawing, too, sketching something from memory, as she hunched over her pad, a pencil in hand moving furiously over the paper, a bundle of additional colored pencils in her other hand.
He listened to her sing for a second and felt the grin split his face. Guns N’ Roses, “Welcome to the Jungle.” He cleared his throat, but she kept singing. “Welcome to the jungle, feel my, my, serpentine, I, I wanna hear you scream…”
Still grinning, Matt reached out and set a hand on her shoulder. Amy nearly came out of her skin. Her pad and pencils went flying, and whipping out the ear buds, she whirled around, leading with a roundhouse kick that would have leveled him flat if he hadn’t ducked.
“Are you crazy?” she asked when he straightened. “I nearly took off your head.”
“You had your music up and didn’t hear me.” He bent to pick up her pad and pencils, which she snatched out of his hands and hugged to her chest. She was staring at him, breathing fast. Too fast. She wore a strapless sundress with a colorful print that was sexy as hell. She wasn’t in her usual kick-ass boots, but the heels in their place were still pretty damn kick-ass. If she’d connected with his head, he’d still be down for the count. “You’re not wearing black.”
She shifted, then shrugged. “It’s Mallory’s.”
“You look beautiful,” he said.
She wasn’t impressed by the compliment. “You just let yourself into my place?”
“You didn’t answer my knock. I thought something was wrong.”
“Well it’s not,” she said. “And I don’t like surprises.”
“I’m sorry.” He rubbed his jaw and considered her. “I scared you.”
“I told you. I told you I don’t like it when someone sneaks up on me.”
She had told him that, last week on the trail, and his gut clenched hard over how she might have learned she didn’t like to be surprised. Slowly he stepped closer, taking her iPod, setting it down on the chair she’d just vacated. Then he took her pad and pencils and did the same. “Breathe,” he said softly, gently running his hands up her arms and then down.
She exhaled a shuddery breath.
He inhaled slowly and deeply, and she did the same, and this time when she exhaled, she relaxed marginally. “Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to take your head off. I left my door unlocked for Riley and forgot.”
“No apologies necessary.”
She tipped her head up and looked at him. “You’re being sweet.”
“I’m not feeling sweet.” Not even close. His hands dropped to her hips. The material of her skirt was silky smooth and thin. He could feel the warmth of her right through it. She smelled so good he couldn’t stop himself from lowering his head and pressing his face to her neck.
She slapped a hand to his chest and leaned back. “Are you smelling me?”
“Yeah.” He did it again, an exaggerated inhale that made her laugh. “You smell amazing,” he said. “Reminds me of how amazing you taste.”
She sucked in a breath and moved against him, just a little rock of her hot bod that finished off the job that the panties on the bathroom floor had started. His lips were at her throat. He sucked on her skin, and the sound she made, the soft, feminine sound of arousal, nearly did him in.
The next sound that she made came from her stomach as it rumbled. Laughing softly, he pulled back. “Time to go.”
“Where?”
“Food. Wine. Maybe music.” Taking her hand, he pulled her through her place. “Whatever you want.”
“We were already doing what I wanted.”
He stopped and glanced back at her with a smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His body revved. Down, boy. “I like that idea,” he told her. “I like it a lot. After I take you out.”
“You don’t have to.”
Okay, he was missing something here, and he stopped, dipping down a little to look into her eyes. “Did you change your mind?”
“No.” She shifted and looked away. “I’m just saying, I don’t need the pomp and circumstance before we…”
“Duly noted,” he said slowly. Yeah, definitely missing something. Which meant they were in trouble because she clearly wasn’t going to spell out the problem and he was clueless. “Maybe I need the pomp and circumstance.”
She eyed him with a narrowed gaze. “You need to be romanced?”
“You think that’s stupid?”
“No.” But contradicting that, she laughed, then slapped her hand over her mouth and shook her head, eyes sparkling. “Really, I don’t.”
“Look at you, lying through your teeth…” Tugging her in, he kissed her, then let their gazes hold. “Such a beautiful liar.”
Something flickered in her gaze, and he wondered. Guilt? Regret? But not wanting to ruin the night ahead, he shrugged it off and took her hand, leading her outside.
Chapter 13
The calories in chocolate don’t count because chocolate comes from the cocoa bean, and everyone knows that beans are good for you.
Amy had no idea where they were going, but when they passed the pier and got onto the highway, she knew they weren’t going to the diner, or anywhere in Lucky Harbor. “So,” she said, pretending she wasn’t nervous, “where to?”
“Thought we’d try a night out without worrying about showing up on Facebook. I was thinking Seattle.”
That sounded good to her. There for a moment, back at her place, she’d thought maybe they’d be getting straight to the na**d part of the date, but he’d said he wanted this first. She’d decided to take that in the sweet spirit he’d intended. But who’d have thought that the big, bad ranger truly had a sweet side?
You did… You knew it from that day on the mountain when he’d stayed with you all night.
They were halfway to Seattle when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the ID and let out a breath and a softly uttered “damn.” He shook his head. “Sorry, but it’s Sawyer. I have to take it.”
Amy listened to him as he spoke to the sheriff. She could tell by Matt’s quick, short replies that it was about work, and it wasn’t good.
“I have to go to Crescent Canyon,” he said when he’d clicked off. “Sawyer arrested a guy this morning, someone that law enforcement here has been looking for, in conjunction with a drug bust we made a while back. He’s squealing something about his partners and some more stash in an old abandoned ranger station out at Crescent Canyon, in the north district—my territory. I need to meet Sawyer out there to check it out. I’m going to have to take you back.”
“Aren’t we closer to Crescent Canyon now than my place? Don’t waste time, I’ll just go with you.”
“No. Hell, no.”
This was not the first time that Amy had seen Matt’s protective nature. After taking care of herself for so long, watching her own back, she still didn’t know how she felt about him doing it for her. But she couldn’t deny that it certainly wasn’t a bad feeling. “You’re not in your work vehicle,” she said reasonably. “So it’s not against the rules, right? I’ll stay in your truck.”
He slid her a look, and she held up her hand in a solemn vow, making him smile. “Were you a Girl Scout?” he asked.
“Not even a little bit,” she said. “But I rarely make promises.” She thought of the last one she’d made, to Riley, the one she was still conflicted about. “And I never make one I can’t keep.”
Or so she hoped…
His eyes held hers. “Never?”
She drew a deep breath. “Not yet anyway.”
“Good to know.” He left the highway and drove them up toward Crescent Canyon. The road turned into a dirt fire road that forked off a dozen times or more. Amy was completely lost in three minutes, but Matt seemed to know exactly where he was going. The road narrowed, and the going got so rough she ended up clinging to the sissy handle.
Matt glanced over at her. “You okay?”
“You tell me.”
He flashed a grin. “No worries, I hardly ever drive off the edge by accident.”
She steeled herself and took a peek over the “edge.” A three-hundred-foot drop. “Good to know,” she said dryly, repeating his earlier words back to him, making him laugh.
Twenty minutes later, they pulled into a clearing in front of a small building, just as Sawyer did the same from the other direction in a black-and-white official Bronco.
There was a car already parked, an older Ford truck of indeterminate color and rust. “Stay here,” Matt said to Amy, eyes on the building, reaching into the back for a utility belt, gun, and cuffs. “Under no circumstances are you to get out of my truck. If it all goes to shit, I want you to slide over behind the wheel and drive out of here, do you understand?”
“What? No, I’m not going to leave you here,” she said.
He spared her a quick look, mouth and eyes grim. “I can take care of myself. Promise me, Amy.”
Goddammit. Thanks to her own big mouth, he now knew that she took her promises very seriously. “I promise.”
He and Sawyer got out of their vehicles and drew their guns. Amy watched the two of them as they looked at each other, seeming to communicate without a word. Sawyer gave a quick hand gesture, then went toward the front of the building while Matt vanished around back.
Just as Sawyer reached the front door, it crashed open. Three huge guys flew out, tackling Sawyer to the ground. The dirt pack was dry, and dust flew up, making it impossible for Amy to see anything but a tangle of limbs. From inside the car, she gasped, horrified, sitting up straighter, desperately trying to keep her eyes on Sawyer at the bottom of the pile. Her first instinct was to do something to help, and she whirled around, looking for something, a weapon, anything. A baseball bat would have been her first choice but there was nothing. She carried a knife in her backpack, but all she had tonight was a small purse with a little cash and her phone. She hadn’t planned on needing anything else except maybe a condom.
And then there was her promise to stay in the truck.
It was the worst feeling, the most helpless thing imaginable, sitting there watching Sawyer go down, unable to help.
From inside the building, another guy came stumbling out. His hands were cuffed behind him, and he was being pushed along by Matt. Matt caught sight of the scuffle and shoved his guy down to the ground. “Stay,” he barked and broke into a run toward the mêlée.
One of the men broke away from the fight and staggered for his truck. Matt dove after him, taking him to the ground.
Her legs were wobbling from the climb. Or maybe it was from looking down from the dizzying height, but in either case, she could hear her grandma’s voice in her head.
It felt like a promise. I had my hope, but now I had something else, too, peace. Four Lakes gave me peace.
Amy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, then opened them again, feeling them burn with emotion. Jesus, what was with her today? But there was no denying the truth. She’d been feeling flickers of hope ever since Sierra Meadows. It was new and tenuous, but it was there. As for peace, she hadn’t been quite sure. When she thought about her life, she knew she’d always lived it to survive. But she was beginning to see that there was more to life than mere survival, so much more. And maybe that was peace right there, just learning that.
Which left heart, something she’d never believed in for herself and had, in fact, openly mocked.
But she didn’t feel like mocking it now, and she had no idea if maybe that was thanks to Lucky Harbor, to the friends she’d made here, or… a certain forest ranger that was filling up something deep inside her that she hadn’t even known was empty.
Matt knocked at Amy’s door. He was early for their date because… well, he didn’t really have a reason, other than he wanted to see her. He had no idea what the night would bring, but if it went anything at all like their other encounters, it wouldn’t be boring.
Her car was in her parking spot but she didn’t answer. He knocked again, and then when she still didn’t answer, he tried the door. It opened, which didn’t make him feel better—Amy wasn’t a woman to leave her door unlocked. “Amy?”
Nothing, so he stepped inside. “Hello?”
Still nothing.
Her place was small enough that he could see from one end to the next. Her bedroom door was open, and he stepped closer. It looked like a bomb had gone off. A female bomb. Clothes spilled out of the dresser drawers and closet and were scattered across the bed, but no one was actually in any of the clothes.
The bathroom was damp and misty, as if she’d recently showered. There were girlie things on the counter, tubes and bottles, and the place smelled like sexy woman. A pair of black lace panties and matching bra lay on the floor. Nice. He turned back to the living room.
There was a small slider leading to a tiny deck area, and it was cracked open. He pushed it further. The thing squeaked like hell and was all but impossible to move, and yet the woman sitting with her back to him didn’t budge.
This was because she had in earphones that led to the phone or iPod in her pocket and she was singing.
Off-key.
She was drawing, too, sketching something from memory, as she hunched over her pad, a pencil in hand moving furiously over the paper, a bundle of additional colored pencils in her other hand.
He listened to her sing for a second and felt the grin split his face. Guns N’ Roses, “Welcome to the Jungle.” He cleared his throat, but she kept singing. “Welcome to the jungle, feel my, my, serpentine, I, I wanna hear you scream…”
Still grinning, Matt reached out and set a hand on her shoulder. Amy nearly came out of her skin. Her pad and pencils went flying, and whipping out the ear buds, she whirled around, leading with a roundhouse kick that would have leveled him flat if he hadn’t ducked.
“Are you crazy?” she asked when he straightened. “I nearly took off your head.”
“You had your music up and didn’t hear me.” He bent to pick up her pad and pencils, which she snatched out of his hands and hugged to her chest. She was staring at him, breathing fast. Too fast. She wore a strapless sundress with a colorful print that was sexy as hell. She wasn’t in her usual kick-ass boots, but the heels in their place were still pretty damn kick-ass. If she’d connected with his head, he’d still be down for the count. “You’re not wearing black.”
She shifted, then shrugged. “It’s Mallory’s.”
“You look beautiful,” he said.
She wasn’t impressed by the compliment. “You just let yourself into my place?”
“You didn’t answer my knock. I thought something was wrong.”
“Well it’s not,” she said. “And I don’t like surprises.”
“I’m sorry.” He rubbed his jaw and considered her. “I scared you.”
“I told you. I told you I don’t like it when someone sneaks up on me.”
She had told him that, last week on the trail, and his gut clenched hard over how she might have learned she didn’t like to be surprised. Slowly he stepped closer, taking her iPod, setting it down on the chair she’d just vacated. Then he took her pad and pencils and did the same. “Breathe,” he said softly, gently running his hands up her arms and then down.
She exhaled a shuddery breath.
He inhaled slowly and deeply, and she did the same, and this time when she exhaled, she relaxed marginally. “Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to take your head off. I left my door unlocked for Riley and forgot.”
“No apologies necessary.”
She tipped her head up and looked at him. “You’re being sweet.”
“I’m not feeling sweet.” Not even close. His hands dropped to her hips. The material of her skirt was silky smooth and thin. He could feel the warmth of her right through it. She smelled so good he couldn’t stop himself from lowering his head and pressing his face to her neck.
She slapped a hand to his chest and leaned back. “Are you smelling me?”
“Yeah.” He did it again, an exaggerated inhale that made her laugh. “You smell amazing,” he said. “Reminds me of how amazing you taste.”
She sucked in a breath and moved against him, just a little rock of her hot bod that finished off the job that the panties on the bathroom floor had started. His lips were at her throat. He sucked on her skin, and the sound she made, the soft, feminine sound of arousal, nearly did him in.
The next sound that she made came from her stomach as it rumbled. Laughing softly, he pulled back. “Time to go.”
“Where?”
“Food. Wine. Maybe music.” Taking her hand, he pulled her through her place. “Whatever you want.”
“We were already doing what I wanted.”
He stopped and glanced back at her with a smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His body revved. Down, boy. “I like that idea,” he told her. “I like it a lot. After I take you out.”
“You don’t have to.”
Okay, he was missing something here, and he stopped, dipping down a little to look into her eyes. “Did you change your mind?”
“No.” She shifted and looked away. “I’m just saying, I don’t need the pomp and circumstance before we…”
“Duly noted,” he said slowly. Yeah, definitely missing something. Which meant they were in trouble because she clearly wasn’t going to spell out the problem and he was clueless. “Maybe I need the pomp and circumstance.”
She eyed him with a narrowed gaze. “You need to be romanced?”
“You think that’s stupid?”
“No.” But contradicting that, she laughed, then slapped her hand over her mouth and shook her head, eyes sparkling. “Really, I don’t.”
“Look at you, lying through your teeth…” Tugging her in, he kissed her, then let their gazes hold. “Such a beautiful liar.”
Something flickered in her gaze, and he wondered. Guilt? Regret? But not wanting to ruin the night ahead, he shrugged it off and took her hand, leading her outside.
Chapter 13
The calories in chocolate don’t count because chocolate comes from the cocoa bean, and everyone knows that beans are good for you.
Amy had no idea where they were going, but when they passed the pier and got onto the highway, she knew they weren’t going to the diner, or anywhere in Lucky Harbor. “So,” she said, pretending she wasn’t nervous, “where to?”
“Thought we’d try a night out without worrying about showing up on Facebook. I was thinking Seattle.”
That sounded good to her. There for a moment, back at her place, she’d thought maybe they’d be getting straight to the na**d part of the date, but he’d said he wanted this first. She’d decided to take that in the sweet spirit he’d intended. But who’d have thought that the big, bad ranger truly had a sweet side?
You did… You knew it from that day on the mountain when he’d stayed with you all night.
They were halfway to Seattle when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the ID and let out a breath and a softly uttered “damn.” He shook his head. “Sorry, but it’s Sawyer. I have to take it.”
Amy listened to him as he spoke to the sheriff. She could tell by Matt’s quick, short replies that it was about work, and it wasn’t good.
“I have to go to Crescent Canyon,” he said when he’d clicked off. “Sawyer arrested a guy this morning, someone that law enforcement here has been looking for, in conjunction with a drug bust we made a while back. He’s squealing something about his partners and some more stash in an old abandoned ranger station out at Crescent Canyon, in the north district—my territory. I need to meet Sawyer out there to check it out. I’m going to have to take you back.”
“Aren’t we closer to Crescent Canyon now than my place? Don’t waste time, I’ll just go with you.”
“No. Hell, no.”
This was not the first time that Amy had seen Matt’s protective nature. After taking care of herself for so long, watching her own back, she still didn’t know how she felt about him doing it for her. But she couldn’t deny that it certainly wasn’t a bad feeling. “You’re not in your work vehicle,” she said reasonably. “So it’s not against the rules, right? I’ll stay in your truck.”
He slid her a look, and she held up her hand in a solemn vow, making him smile. “Were you a Girl Scout?” he asked.
“Not even a little bit,” she said. “But I rarely make promises.” She thought of the last one she’d made, to Riley, the one she was still conflicted about. “And I never make one I can’t keep.”
Or so she hoped…
His eyes held hers. “Never?”
She drew a deep breath. “Not yet anyway.”
“Good to know.” He left the highway and drove them up toward Crescent Canyon. The road turned into a dirt fire road that forked off a dozen times or more. Amy was completely lost in three minutes, but Matt seemed to know exactly where he was going. The road narrowed, and the going got so rough she ended up clinging to the sissy handle.
Matt glanced over at her. “You okay?”
“You tell me.”
He flashed a grin. “No worries, I hardly ever drive off the edge by accident.”
She steeled herself and took a peek over the “edge.” A three-hundred-foot drop. “Good to know,” she said dryly, repeating his earlier words back to him, making him laugh.
Twenty minutes later, they pulled into a clearing in front of a small building, just as Sawyer did the same from the other direction in a black-and-white official Bronco.
There was a car already parked, an older Ford truck of indeterminate color and rust. “Stay here,” Matt said to Amy, eyes on the building, reaching into the back for a utility belt, gun, and cuffs. “Under no circumstances are you to get out of my truck. If it all goes to shit, I want you to slide over behind the wheel and drive out of here, do you understand?”
“What? No, I’m not going to leave you here,” she said.
He spared her a quick look, mouth and eyes grim. “I can take care of myself. Promise me, Amy.”
Goddammit. Thanks to her own big mouth, he now knew that she took her promises very seriously. “I promise.”
He and Sawyer got out of their vehicles and drew their guns. Amy watched the two of them as they looked at each other, seeming to communicate without a word. Sawyer gave a quick hand gesture, then went toward the front of the building while Matt vanished around back.
Just as Sawyer reached the front door, it crashed open. Three huge guys flew out, tackling Sawyer to the ground. The dirt pack was dry, and dust flew up, making it impossible for Amy to see anything but a tangle of limbs. From inside the car, she gasped, horrified, sitting up straighter, desperately trying to keep her eyes on Sawyer at the bottom of the pile. Her first instinct was to do something to help, and she whirled around, looking for something, a weapon, anything. A baseball bat would have been her first choice but there was nothing. She carried a knife in her backpack, but all she had tonight was a small purse with a little cash and her phone. She hadn’t planned on needing anything else except maybe a condom.
And then there was her promise to stay in the truck.
It was the worst feeling, the most helpless thing imaginable, sitting there watching Sawyer go down, unable to help.
From inside the building, another guy came stumbling out. His hands were cuffed behind him, and he was being pushed along by Matt. Matt caught sight of the scuffle and shoved his guy down to the ground. “Stay,” he barked and broke into a run toward the mêlée.
One of the men broke away from the fight and staggered for his truck. Matt dove after him, taking him to the ground.
