Every Step She Takes (Who's Watching Now Book 2) Page 7

  “Are you about finished?”

  Grace glanced over her shoulder and nodded. “I’ll get dressed and be right up.”

  His scowl would have scared a grizzly. Arms crossed over his chest, he backed away then paused and strode forward, not stopping until he stood a foot from where she sat.

  She glanced up through her lashes. “What’s got your shorts in a knot this time?”

  His chest rose and fell on an exhale. “I’m only human, and you’re pushing me to the breaking point.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “This.” He pulled her up by one arm and touched the towel tucked between her breasts. When Wylie growled, he gave the dog an I dare you glance.

  “I told you I was going to take a bath.”

  “Not that you’d be naked. Jesus. I started down the slope and nearly had a heart attack. Do you want to push me into making a move on you? Is that the goal?”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she gave him a shove. “Get your mind out of your pants, Travis. I’m tired. My whole body aches. I’m not the least bit interested in sex with you or anyone else at the moment. I wanted to scrub off the dirt, and I didn’t give a rat’s ass who watched. Got it?”

  He pushed a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m on edge.”

  “You should be sorry.” Turning away, she bent to reach for her clothes. Her foot came down on a sharp rock, and she jerked back arms flailing. Grabbing for support, she clutched his shoulder. The towel slipped and dropped to her feet.

  Her gaze met his before his eyes lowered. Color flooded cheeks already dark with stubble. With a muttered oath, he drew her against his chest and kissed her. There was no tenderness in the kiss, just a melding of mouths, a release of tension. His hand stroked down her back and came to rest on the curve of her waist.

  She held onto his shoulders with both hands and kissed him back until Wylie’s growl worked its way into her consciousness. When the dog barked sharply, she jerked away. Bending, she grabbed the towel and held it to her chest.

  He turned to face the mountain, hands shaking as they fisted on his hips. “I won’t apologize for that.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to.” Wrapping the towel around her again, she scooped up her clothes and headed up the incline without looking back.

  Chapter 8

  He’d lost them. Un-fucking-believable. After spending half the day trying to figure out where Barnett had left the trail, he’d finally given up and made camp. With a grunt, he scanned the open terrain with his binoculars as twilight set in. Nothing. Still, with or without Sutton, Barnett and Grace would have to pass his current location to get back to the lodge. There was no other way out, not with a steep ravine on one side and a mountain rearing up on the other. His bet was on with. The minute they were within range, he’d take them out, one after the other, right down to the freaking dog. Loose ends weren’t an option.

  Son of a bitch!

  The whole situation was a pisser. Taking this job had been sheer idiocy. He was no stinking mountain man. Give him a civilized hit in a metropolitan setting, and he never failed. Never. As much as it sucked to sit around twiddling his thumbs, he wouldn’t fail this time either. His confidence in Barnett’s tracking skills had increased over the last couple of days. If anyone could find Sutton, it was the former SEAL.

  Barnett and his little entourage might have chalked up a minor victory today, but they wouldn’t win the war. Victory would be his. All he had to do was wait.

  * * * *

  Travis took his time at the creek, bathing then shaving. His food would be cold by now, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t ready to face Grace, didn’t have a clue what he’d say when he did. His behavior was inexcusable, and they both knew it.

  The tension and worry were getting to him, and sex would be a release of the former if not the latter. The thought intruded, unbidden, every time he looked at her. Still, it sure as hell wasn’t Grace’s fault he was unbelievably attracted to her. He knew she wasn’t trying to tease him, that she was just being her usual, charming, uninhibited self. The fact that he was a walking hard on was his own damn problem.

  Picking up his dirty clothes and shaving kit, he squared his shoulders and headed to their camp. She glanced up with somber eyes and gave him a half smile. Setting aside a tiny bottle, she waved her hands in the air. Wylie stood beside her and stared him in the eye, lips curled back to expose sharp teeth. Even the dog seemed to know he’d been way out of line.

  “There’s repellent if the mosquitoes are bothering you.”

  “Huh? Oh, no mosquitoes. Well, there are mosquitoes, but I sprayed down already. I’m drying my nails.”

  He frowned as he split open his tamale and dug into the lukewarm food. “Why don’t you use a towel?”

  She laughed, a light trill of pleasure that made him forget about his less than appetizing meal.

  “I painted my nails. The polish is drying.” With another chuckle, she shook her head. “You really are clueless about women.”

  He forked up a bite of rice. “Why would you paint your nails out here?”

  One shoulder lifted, and she glanced away. “It makes me feel pretty.”

  His hand holding the fork stilled. “If you were any more beautiful, my heart wouldn’t be able to take it.” With a sigh, he waited until she looked at him. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “I’m sorry, too. Honestly, I wasn’t concerned about anything but getting out of those disgusting clothes. I didn’t think…” Another little shrug punctuated her words. “Just that. I didn’t think.”

  He finished his meal and rose then reached to grab the dishes she’d stacked neatly by the fire pit. “I’ll wash these and be right back.”

  Relief lightened his steps. He didn’t deserve such easy forgiveness, but he was thankful she wasn’t still angry. Scrubbing the dishes took only a few moments. When he returned to camp, Grace was bent over her pack.

  Turning, she held up a toothbrush. “Can I do anything to help before I head down to the creek?”

  “There’s nothing to do. I’ll secure our food, and then I’m turning in. Make sure you use the purified water to brush your teeth.”

  With a nod, she grabbed a water bottle and left with the dog following.

  After hanging the bag of food from a tree branch, he stripped down to his boxers and crawled into the tent. Though it was nearly ten o’clock, the sky was still light enough to make sleeping difficult, despite his exhaustion. Who am I kidding? Grace’s presence in the tent was the reason sleep had been in short supply the last two nights. Knowing she was so close—yet might as well be on the other side of a vast chasm—kept him awake long after her breathing had settled into an easy rhythm. He didn’t expect tonight would be any different.

  The door flap opened, and she slipped inside before zipping it shut. Tiny shorts and a ribbed tank top hugged her curves in a way that dried all the spit in his mouth. Once she’d wiggled into her sleeping bag, the dog settled at her feet. Outside, birds twittered softly, and bushes rustled in the breeze. Inside the tent, the only sound was Wylie’s sigh and Grace’s light breathing.

  When pain burned through his lungs, Travis realized he’d been holding his breath and let it out in a rush. Shifting, he tried to put a little space between them. The task was impossible. A hand touched the side of his face, and he jumped.

  “Let’s just do it, and get it over with.”

  “What?” He turned his head but couldn’t see anything except the blurred outline of her features.

  “Sex. You’re tense. I’m tense. Maybe afterward, we can go back to being friends.”

  His body reacted instantaneously to her suggestion while he mentally shriveled to the size of a worm. This was his fault, and the fact she’d even made the suggestion told him how very uncomfortable she was.

  He pulled one arm from the bag and turned on his side, then, with the pad of his thumb, stroked her cheek. “I’m so very
sorry.”

  “I’m not kidding, Travis.” There was a tiny hitch in her voice. “Despite the circumstances, I was enjoying myself out here. I like you, and we were getting along so well. Now it’s ruined, and I want to fix it.”

  “There’s nothing to fix. I’m an idiot. You’re beautiful, and I can’t remember how many months it’s been since I last had sex. The combo went to my head. Well, maybe not my head…”

  “Your other head.” Her hand closed over his arm. “Let’s solve your problem and move on, unless you don’t want to.”

  He was so hard he ached. Teeth pressed together tightly enough to crack a molar, he focused on breathing. “Of course I want to, but we aren’t going to. While I appreciate your willingness to make such a sacrifice, I’d be lower than a snake to accept.”

  “It’s not like I’m going to hate it.” Humor laced her words. “In fact, I’m pretty sure it’ll rank right near the top on my all-time best list.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and told himself this night wouldn’t kill him. His body strained and throbbed, urging him to take what she offered. “Thanks, I think, but no.”

  Her breath fanned his face as she inched closer. “Why not?”

  “Because I respect you too much. Five date rule, remember. We can’t be up to more than four.” Perspiration dotted his lip as he gulped air. “Maybe only three because tonight sure as hell shouldn’t count.”

  “I think I’m allowed to break my own rule.” Her hand inched up his arm, pausing on his bicep before continuing to his shoulder.

  Her soft palm against his skin sent a quiver through him. “Even if I wanted to say yes, Wylie would rip my throat out if I touched you.”

  “No, he wouldn’t. He senses when I’m upset or frightened.” She paused. “Right now, I’m neither.”

  “No more starting relationships doomed to failure.” His voice came out in a croak as he adjusted his boxers then cleared his throat. “That’s what you said.”

  “Too late. We haven’t slept together, but the relationship is already established. My emotions are involved.”

  He lifted her hand from his shoulder and kissed the backs of her fingers. They trembled in his grasp. “Mine, too. I really do like you, Grace. I can’t remember a woman ever making me smile as much as you do. Certainly not my ex-wife.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about. We were having fun together, and I want that back.” Her hair brushed his chest as she bent to nibble kisses along his collarbone. “Don’t think I’m making some kind of noble sacrifice. Right now, I probably want to finish what we started as badly as you do.”

  “Not possible.” Would it really be taking advantage of her to accept what she was offering? After all, they were both consenting adults. They’d admitted to an attraction, an emotional connection. “Are you sure you won’t hate me when we crawl out of this tent in the morning?”

  Her lips caressed his throat, lingering on the pounding pulse.

  “I won’t regret it.”

  Would he? Would one night with Grace be enough? When they flew out of Moose Flat, back to the real world, would he be able to let her go?

  The zipper on one of the sleeping bags lowered, the sound shivering along his nerve endings. Her free hand trailed through the hair on his chest, across his stomach and lower. With a jerk, he covered it with his own.

  “Oh, God.”

  Her breath whooshed out. “Travis?”

  “You’ve convinced me.” Shoving aside the sleeping bags, he pulled her to him.

  Warm and pliant, every naked inch of her. How the hell did she strip off her clothes without me knowing? She stretched along the length of his body. His hand sank into silky hair, tilting her head. Their lips touched, caressed and then locked together with urgent need. The kiss lengthened, slowed to explore tastes and textures. Stroking her cheek with his thumb, he relaxed into the pleasure that was Grace, determined to make the night last.

  She seemed to have other ideas. Pausing to shush Wylie’s low growl, she wiggled until their tangled limbs were completely free of the sleeping bag then crawled on top of him. All that smooth skin pressing against him pushed him beyond thought, beyond every noble intention. If he didn’t have her this very second…

  “Protection.” His voice was a gravelly rasp.

  “Got it.”

  The rip of foil sent an additional surge of blood south. Certain he would die—or embarrass himself completely—he held his breath while she tugged off his boxers then slipped it on him with a single, efficient caress.

  “You okay?”

  He could only nod. Nothing he’d experienced before had ever been this okay. Until she sheathed him in her heat and the exceptional became extraordinary. Life-altering. Their bodies moved as one, building and reaching—perfection.

  Afterward, holding her in his arms while the perspiration dried on his skin, he could only pray she was with him at the end. He’d been so far gone, so caught up in his own pleasure…

  “Yep, just as I suspected.” Her breath feathered across his chest when she sighed.

  His fingers tangled in her hair. “Oh, God, do I want to know?”

  Raising her head, she peered down at him in the near darkness. “I told you it’d be right up near the top of my best ever list. Didn’t think it’d be that high though.”

  Pleasure at her words flashed through him. Not that he deserved any of the credit. She’d been in control from the minute she crawled into the tent.

  “You’re incredible.”

  She rubbed her cheek against his chest before pressing her lips against one flat nipple. “I try to excel at everything I do.”

  His mind drifted, edging toward sleep. “That’s why you wouldn’t give up on the story.”

  “That’s why.”

  “Selfishly, I’m glad you’re with me, even though I wish you were miles away. Somewhere safe.”

  She curled even closer. “We’ve been safe enough up until now.”

  “That’ll end the minute we locate Sutton.”

  A tremor ran through her as she pulled the sleeping bags up over them. “Then I’ll wait until we find him to worry.”

  His fingers stroked her hair, sifting through the soft strands. “Good idea. Tonight, we’ll forget about everything and everyone but the two of us.”

  * * * *

  She’d lied. In the cold light of dawn, regret ate at Grace. Despite her vow to give up meaningless relationships, she’d slept with Travis the second he’d gotten upset with her. She hadn’t been able to get past his anger and the overwhelming need—buried so deep inside she thought she’d finally put it to rest—to make him happy at any cost. Not that the sex had been meaningless. Making love with him—if she could call it that—had meant more to her than any relationship she’d had in a long time. Still, once they left Alaska, they weren’t likely to see each other again.

  She finished loading her backpack with shaking hands then reached down to stroke Wylie who leaned against her leg, likely sensing her unsettled mood. The dog seemed to be more perceptive than half the therapists she’d seen over the years. But it didn’t take someone with a psychology degree to tell her old habits had reared their ugly head. Again.

  Hands closed over her shoulders as Travis dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Ready to go?”

  She nodded.

  The hands squeezed. “Is something wrong? You didn’t eat much of your oatmeal this morning. I hope you aren’t regretting—”

  Pasting on a bright smile, she turned. “Nothing’s wrong. You should know by now I’m never hungry at this ungodly hour. Anyway, Wylie needs the calories more than I do.”

  “We have enough food not to skimp. If we don’t find Sutton this morning, we’ll go back to the lodge to wait for him.”

  After slipping her arms through the straps of the pack he lifted for her, she followed him out of the campsite. “Why? Surely he’s somewhere on this trail.”

  “What if we missed him, and he already turned back? I can�
��t take the risk he’ll return to the lodge before we do, not when our tail is still out there somewhere. We’ll hunt for a few more hours, but that’s all I can afford.”

  She kicked a rock. “Makes sense, I suppose, but I hate to give up.”

  “Regrouping isn’t giving up. If one plan doesn’t work, you try another.”

  “Is that what being a SEAL taught you?”

  “More of a life lesson. I—”

  He stopped abruptly, and she put out a hand to keep from slamming into him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Look at Wylie.” His voice was low as he turned to push her toward a stand of aspen trees.

  Nose up, the dog sniffed the wind, the fur rising along his back.

  “Maybe a bear?”

  The snap of a stick echoed in the early morning silence.

  “Get down!” Dropping his pack, he pulled a dull black pistol from the outside pocket, hands swinging upward in an arc.

  Heart pounding, Grace flattened in the dead grass beside the trail, her gaze following Travis as he ran toward an outcropping of rock. When he disappeared around the protrusion, a scuffle and a grunt stopped the breath in her throat. Shifting out from under her pack, she rose on a knee then pushed herself up. Blood roared through her head as she took one step then another.

  “It’s all good!” Travis shouted.

  Pressing her hands to her chest, she breathed again. Moments later, he appeared, holding the arm of a man wearing a green and orange tie-dyed T-shirt covered by an open windbreaker. Long, brown hair straggled around a bearded face with wild eyes.

  Jesus on acid.

  Her laugh held a hint of hysteria as Wylie pressed against her leg and growled.

  “It’s okay, boy. He’s one of the good guys.”

  Striding forward, she stopped in front of the man and offered her hand. He hesitated beyond politeness before accepting it.

  “Grace Hanover. I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment.”

  He cleared his throat, gave her hand a limp shake then dropped it. “Mark Johnson.”

  Her lips peeled away from her teeth. “My ass. You, Casey Sutton, are about to make all my dreams come true.”