Jill Shalvis - At Last

As she spoke, the bear slowly tipped his big, furry head back, lazily studying Amy and Matt from his upside down perch.

Yeah, he saw them. Reacting instinctively, she turned and burrowed right into Matt. “If you laugh at me,” she warned as his warm, strong arms closed around her, “I’ll kill you.”

He didn’t laugh or mock her. For once, he was unsmiling, his jaw dark with stubble, eyes hidden behind his reflective Oakleys. “No worries, Tough Girl,” he said, his warm, strong arms closing around her. “And anyway, I’m hard to kill.”

There’s more to life than chocolate, but not right now.

As Matt drew Amy in close, he thought that laughing at her was just about the last thing on the list of what he felt like doing at the moment. Kissing her was on the list. Sliding his hands down her back to cup her sweet ass and rub up against her was also on the list.

But laughing? No. She’d nearly leapt out of her own skin a second ago, and it hadn’t been all fear of the bear. Nope, a good portion of that had been when Matt had touched her unexpectedly. That bothered him, a whole hell of a lot. “I’ve got you.”

“I’ve usually got myself,” she murmured into his chest. “I’m just not much of a bear person.” Her voice was soft and full of the reluctant gratitude he knew she’d never actually express. He liked this better than the wariness she usually showed him, but not even close to what he’d rather she be feeling.

He ran his hand up and down her back, trying to soothe the quivers he felt wracking her, trying not to notice how good she felt against him. Or how… fragile.

He’d never thought of her as fragile before, ever. He’d spent a lot of time watching her carry loaded trays at the diner and knew she was actually strong as hell. “You’re not going to be bear bait,” he promised, turning her so that she was behind him. “Not today anyway.”

She grabbed a fistful of the back of his uniform shirt and pressed up against his back. “How do you know?”

“Well, you’re behind me, for one thing. So if anyone’s going to be bear bait, it’ll be me. And brown bears are extremely passive. If we take a step toward him, he’ll take off.”

She let go of him, presumably so he could do just that, even giving him a little nudge that was actually more like a push. With a laugh, Matt obliged and stepped toward the bear, waving his arms. With a look of reproof, the bear lumbered to his feet and vanished into the bush.

Amy collected herself with admirable speed, which was just the slightest bit of a bummer because he’d been enjoying the contact. “A lot can happen this far out here on the mountain,” he said. “You need to be ready for anything.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that, thanks.” In those ridiculous but sexy-as-hell boots, she moved unenthusiastically to the trail.

“Sure you don’t want an escort out?” he asked. Or some more comforting…

“I’ve got it.”

Just as well since he was out of the practice of comforting a woman. Several years out of practice, actually, since his ex had so thoroughly shredded him back in Chicago. He was still watching Amy hike off into the sunset when his radio squawked, and then Mary, his dispatcher, came on. “You find her?”

Mallory had called his office an hour ago, and Mary had reached him on the radio. Now Mallory was probably calling to check on Amy. “Yeah, she’s on her way out now. I’m still up here near 06-04,” he said, giving his coordinates.

“You might want to think about sticking overnight.”

“Why?”

“One of the standing dead fell about twenty minutes ago, across the fire road at 06-02.”

His route out.

“Can’t get a saw up there until daybreak,” she said.

This left him two choices-leave his truck and hike out like Amy or sleep up here. He wasn’t going to leave his truck. Overnighting wasn’t a hardship in the slightest since he had all his gear with him and had stayed out here many a night. “I’ll stick. Take me off the board.”

“Ten-four.”

Matt turned and went in the opposite direction Amy had gone, stepping off the trail to take a considerable shortcut back to where he’d left his truck. He didn’t hurry through the stands of spruce, hemlock, pine, and cedar. There was no need; he’d still beat her. And sure enough, when he’d gotten to his truck and four-wheeled farther down the narrow fire road to where it intersected with the Sawtooth trail, he came out just ahead of her. She came around a blind corner and kept moving, not seeing him.

“Amy.”

She whipped around, feet planted wide, eyes alert, ready for a fight.

“Just me,” he said easily.

“What the hell are you doing, besides trying to scare me to death?”

She’d been really moving. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, she was also limping a little bit in her boots. “Just making sure you’re still going in the right direction.”

Breathing a little heavily, she tore off her sunglasses and narrowed her dark eyes at him, hands on hips. “You had your truck all along?”

“I offered you help. Think you’re going to be okay for the three-mile hike back?”

“Three miles? What the hell happened to the ‘moderate, two-mile round-trip hike that everyone can enjoy’ that the guidebook promised?”

“If you’d have stayed on the Sierra Meadows Trail, that’d have been true,” he said. “But you cut over to the Sawtooth Trail.”

She blew a strand of hair out of her face. “You need better trail signs.”

“Budget cuts,” he said. “Next time stay on the easy-access trails down by the station. Those are clearly marked.”

“Easy is for pansies.”

“Maybe, but at least all the pansies are safe for the night. Because once it gets dark out here, it’s best to stay still. And that’s in about…” He tipped his head back and studied the sky. “Ten minutes. Ever been out here at night?”

She glanced upward uneasily. “No.”

“It’s a whole new kind of dark. No street lights, no city lights, nothing.”

“Why aren’t you in a hurry then?”

“I’m not going anywhere tonight,” he said. “The fire road’s blocked until morning by a fallen tree, and I don’t want to leave my truck.”

“So you’re going to stay out here all night?” she asked. “Beneath the velvet sky?”

“Nice description.”

“It’s not mine.” She pulled a small penlight flashlight from her backpack and flicked it on in the dusk, looking relieved that it actually worked. “You don’t think I can get back before dark, do you?”

“No.”

She sighed. “So if I stay out here, you going to ticket me for not having a overnight permit?”

“I think I can cut you some slack.”

It wasn’t often he didn’t know what he wanted to do with a woman. In fact, this was a first. She was obviously unprepared. All she had was a flashlight. No water, no tent, no sleeping bag, no food that he could see.

Not that it was a problem, since he was prepared enough for the both of them. Plus, he’d be sticking to her like glue, and not because he’d been lusting after her for months, but because she was a statistic waiting to happen. “I have camping gear, if you want to share.” Christ, listen to him. Such a sucker for melted-chocolate eyes.

“I’m fine.”

Her mantra. And there was no doubt that she was extremely fine standing there, her long, lithe body throwing off attitude as she looked at him with that devastatingly powerful gaze, shadowed by things he didn’t understand but wanted to. “Sleep near your fire,” he advised, playing it her way. For now. “Keep the coyotes back.”

“Coyotes,” she repeated faintly.

“And douse yourself in mosquito spray. It’s getting to be that season. Keep your jean legs tucked into your boots when you lie down. You don’t want any extra creepy crawlies getting up there.”

She stared down at her skinny jeans, then at the boots that were most definitely not hiking sanctioned. “Creepy crawlies?”

“It’s a little early for snakes, but you should keep a watch out for them, too,” he said. “Just in case.”

She nodded and took a long, uneasy look around them.

He had no idea what she thought she was doing, or why, but he wasn’t that big an asshole to let her do it alone, no matter how brave she thought she was. “You know,” he said quietly. “Sometimes, being alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

She thought about that a moment. “You really have gear in your truck?”

“Standard operating procedure,” he said, and it was true. But what wasn’t SOP was to offer that gear to stranded hikers, no matter how sexy they were.

No fool, she slid him a long, steely-eyed look, and he did his best to look innocent.

“Listen,” she finally said. “I might’ve given you the wrong impression when I… bumped into you with the bear thing.”