Bear Claw Bodyguard. Jessica Andersen
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round of attacks by the Shadow Militia. Last Jack had heard from Gigi—who had done some ride-alongs with him and become a casual friend—she and Matt were keeping a sharp eye on things up at Fourteen but hadn’t seen any evidence of the militia. He hadn’t been able to get hold of her today, though, and was looking forward to getting an update from her and Matt.
As he pulled into the parking area in front of the observatory and killed the engine, Tori sat up and blinked around, her brown eyes looking owlish behind her glasses, and then lighting as she took in their surroundings.
And, yeah, Matt’s house was pretty cool, almost an inland lighthouse, with two levels of living space and a tall platform sprouting from one side. Towering high above the surrounding trees, it overlooked sweeping, rock-strewn vistas on all sides, some furred with a light, high-altitude tree covering, others bare. It was all drought-dry and dusty with ash from the wildfires that had leveled large portions of the forest to the south and west of Station Fourteen, but he still thought it was a seriously cool sight.
Her lips curved and she sighed. “Oh, this is wonderful.”
Restless energy kicked through him like a jet on afterburners, making him want to … Hell, he didn’t know what he wanted to do except get moving. Maybe Tucker was right about his needing some time and space to get his head clear after all.
Jerking a thumb toward the main door, he said, “Come on in. I need to pick up some extra gear before we head out to the site.” A glance at the sky had him frowning. “If you even want to bother going up there today, that is. You’re really going to get only a few hours out at the site before we have to call it a night.”
Although there was a road between Fourteen and the Forgotten now, it was questionable at best, treacherous at worst, and there was no point in tackling it after dark.
“I’ll take what I can get,” she said firmly. “While you’re loading your stuff, I’ll change out of my airplane clothes and drop off some of my stuff if there’s a place for it.”
“There should be. It’ll be tight quarters with you, me, Matt and Gigi, but we’ll make it work.”
Once he let himself through the unlocked front door, though, the first thing he saw was a note lying on the butcher-block breakfast bar, with his name scrawled at the top. A quick scan told him that things weren’t going to be nearly as crowded as he had thought … and he really didn’t want to analyze why that information had his gut fisting on a low burn of heat.
Clearing his throat, he said, “Matt and Gigi are going to be out of town for the next few days. Looks like we’ll have the run of the place, along with a little extra elbow room.”
She avoided his eyes and shrugged. “Fine by me either way. I’m used to living in close quarters, and most of the time we’re here, I’ll be working on the data and samples I’ve collected. Don’t worry about entertaining me. The more I work, the faster you can get back to whatever you were doing before you got stuck babysitting me.”
“I’m not … Hmm.” He caught her faint grin, and almost wanted to laugh at himself, restlessness and all. “Hell. Go dump your stuff and we’ll get moving.”
She might be tiny, but she gave as good as she got.
Nodding, she strode across the lower level, which had the kitchen at one end, a good-size fireplace at the other, bracketing an open space filled with cushy couches and chairs strewn with colorful pillows and throws that were undoubtedly Gigi’s influence. She headed for the spiral staircase off in the far corner, but as she reached it, she turned back. “Sorry, I’m on autopilot. I’m in the guest room upstairs, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll be on the couch, keeping an eye on the perimeter.” The main station house had recently been rebuilt after the militia members torched it as a diversionary tactic after all, and with the other rangers stationed on the ski slopes for the winter, they were going to be alone up there.
It wouldn’t pay for him to let down his guard. On the contrary, it could be a huge mistake. And if, deep down inside, he knew damn well that his taking the couch also had more than a little to do with his having noticed that behind those glasses her brown eyes were lush and gorgeous, and framed by some of the longest lashes he’d ever seen, he was the only one who needed to have any inkling of it, or of the way his heart skidded a little at the thought that the two of them would be alone together tonight, on either end of a spiral staircase.
She looked at him for an extra moment, making him wonder what she saw, but then she nodded and headed upstairs.
He didn’t watch her go, instead turning to the pile of gear Matt had left for him, which included additional firepower and survival gear. He thought the water purifier was overkill—especially given that they were in the middle of a drought—but there was plenty of room in the SUV, so he figured he’d load it all on the “better safe than sorry” theory. And he had asked the ranger to hook him up with everything he thought they might need out at the Forgotten.
Ten minutes later, as he came back in for the third and last load, he saw Tori coming down the stairs. And he stopped dead, his brain vapor locking and his body going on red alert, and his only coherent thought one of Oh, hell.
He was in serious trouble.
She wasn’t wearing her windbreaker or glasses anymore, and those changes made way too much of a difference. Gone was the impression of an adolescent owl or a teenager wearing her boyfriend’s jacket. In its place was the sight of a woman who might not be built big, but she was built right. Her legs were long in proportion to her body, and her slim waist accentuated with a webbed utility belt fitted through the loops of cargo pants that hugged her hips and moved lovingly with her as she came toward him. Her T-shirt was tight across a pair of surprisingly full breasts and snugged in at her waist and across a flat stomach that showed just a hint of a feminine curve.
She was carrying a knapsack over one shoulder, and the combined effect made him think of coeds and college. Hesitating near the breakfast bar, she said, “What’s wrong?”
In other words, he was staring. And that thing he’d been thinking about there not being a problem with attraction? Yeah. That had just gone straight out the window. She might not be long, cool or blonde, but he was attracted all right.
Yanking his attention to the last of the gear he hadn’t yet put in the truck, he set his jaw. “Nothing. Everything’s just fine.” He would make damn sure of it, in fact. Grabbing the last of the stuff, he turned away. “Come on, let’s get moving.”
As far as he was concerned, the sooner she finished her studies and headed back wherever she had come from, the better, because right now he couldn’t afford the distraction. He had to protect her, look for clues on the militia and get back on the Death Stare case as quickly as possible. The victims might be nothing more than junkies to some, but as far as he was concerned, they were just as important as any other group of victims. Which meant that he didn’t have time for big brown eyes or surprising breasts, or the way his body tightened as he heard her come outside behind him.
And even if he did have time, he reminded himself as he stowed the last of his gear, he wouldn’t be spending it with another woman who was just passing through. Been there, done that, bought the tux.
BY THE TIME Jack parked the SUV in a small clump of scrubby, stunted trees that looked exactly like the last thousand such clumps they had passed since leaving Ranger Station Fourteen, Tori wasn’t sure which was worse: the way he was grimly ignoring her, or the fact that it bothered her far more than it should.
Throughout the drive, one part of her had been cataloging the passing scenery, tapping notes into her handheld and generally getting a feel for the northernmost reaches of the state park and the damage done by the recent drought conditions. Another part of her, though, had been all too aware of Jack as he navigated the rugged one-lane track with deceptive ease and one hand on the wheel. Beneath that layer of calm, though, there was an electric tension that was transmitted in his every shift and breath, and in the few glances he sent her way.
She didn’t kid