She snorts mid-sip, spitting coffee. No girly giggle, it’s more of a bark. When it reaches her brown eyes, it kicks me in the nuts.
Yup, I’m a goner.
By the time we take our first break, the sun still hasn’t touched our deer trail—an Ice Age scar carved between the mountains.
Becca laps at her water, but the second I hoist my pack, she bolts into the pines on perimeter duty.
“I can carry the drone, if you want.” Briana catches my gaze, her pearly whites biting her lower lip.
“Sure.” Like I’d say no to an excuse to touch her.
I’m going straight to hell.
As I adjust the straps under her arms, our eyes lock. The heat that flickers in her dark pupils nearly burns me. For a moment, I think she’s going to kiss me again.
Instead, she glances away. “If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t act much like a lawman.”
Chuckling, I start down the hill. “Yeah? How do you mean?”
“For one thing, you kissed your suspect.”
“Purdysure it was the other way around.”
“Okay, tell me—Why is a sheriff in charge of SAR? Don’t you have outlaws to catch? Shootouts at the OK Corral?”
“I’m also the lead volunteer firefighter.” Shrugging, I kick a stone off the path. “Small town. Lots of hats… What brought you to the Long Trail?”
Her heavy sigh makes me wish I hadn’t asked.
“Pretty simple. I got laid off. Not many folks hiring, so I threw my stuff in storage and took to the road. Figured I needed alone time.” No longer side-by-side, she trots down the mountain.
“Did you consider asking Brett?”
If I didn’t believe they’d broken up, her bitter laugh would convince me. “God, no. His idea of roughing it is a three-star hotel without a hot tub.”
“You two sound like opposites.” Huffing, I have to race to catch up to her.
“Exactly. Hence the ‘ex.’” There’s an edge in her voice.
Hell hath no fury?She probably shouldn’t be telling me all this. If anyone asks, I’ll have to tell them the truth.
For some reason, I feel the need to protect her. “First thing you should do when we get to town is hire an attorney. The FBI will be under pressure to press murder charges.”
She eyes the blue sky, then punches a tree. “Oh great. For the rest of my life, I’ll have to check the stupid box. You know the one—‘Have you ever been arrested?’ No one’s ever gonna hire me.”
Her pessimistic outlet doesn’t jive with the feisty pilot who saved me in Afghanistan. “If you’re innocent, you can have it expunged.”
“Right, no problem.” She shakes her head, lifting her knees over a fallen tree. “Haven’t you been listening? I’m homeless.”
“Surely, your family will help.” As I climb over the rotted wood, she groans, rolling her eyes.
“Don’t tell me. They’ve been calling nonstop.” When her hand reaches for mine, I take it.
“Over a hundred fifty calls and counting.”
“God, I’m so, so sorry. They’re… a bit much.” Her lashes lift, those brown eyes searching mine.
Whatever she’s looking for, I hope I measure up. “They made it sound like you were a missing teen.”
