Not once I revealed Brad’s true identity to Snow and he recoiled slightly.
Because it’s a name people beyond McBride Mountain would recognize.
One that means those men who robbed that bank are capable of so much worse.
I saw it in their eyes through the slits of their masks, in the way they so easily pointed the gun at me, at the tellers.
They were killers.
Stone-cold ones.
And they expected me to die in that warehouse.
The fact that I got away makes me a loose end.
One they might want to tie up if they ever figure out I’m still alive and talking.
“Where’d you go just now?”
I shake my head to clear it and refocus on Liam, his brows drawn low over his eyes in worry. “I was just thinking about what we discussed the day of the opening.”
“About leaving McBride Mountain?”
“I don’t want to.” I run my hands over Giz, using the familiar motion to soothe the disquiet I’m feeling about Liam’s promise. “I don’t want you to have to leave your brothers, I don’t want to have to leave these people. I don’t want to leave this.”
I motion upward absently as the sound of the rain drowns out the rest of the world.
“Then we won’t.” Liam says it so definitively, as if there isn’t a shadow of a doubt. “If that’s what you want, we won’t. I told you I would run with you, and I still mean it. But if what you want is McBride Mountain, then no matter what happens, we’ll stay and fight.” He pushes up and shifts over to me, pulling my face to his. “I’ll fight for you, Lucky. For us. For this. So we can always stay on the mountain.”
18
LIAM
By the time we step into the cabin, night has fully fallen and we’re soaked and trembling. We waited it out in the treehouse for as long as we could, hoping the rain would let up enough for us to hike back to the truck without becoming completely drenched, but as the sun started to fall—along with the temperatures as the cold front moved in fully—we eventually had to make a break for it.
Even the long drive up the mountain with the heater running full-blast did little to warm us or dry off our clothes that now cling to our shivering bodies.
Gizmo bolts inside, racing for his favorite spot in the loft chair, annoyed with the events of the day that left him wet.
I nudge the door closed behind me, water instantly dripping off me onto the hardwood floors. It pools under Lucky, too, after the short run from the truck to the safety of the cabin was enough to undo any good the reprieve of the drive offered.
She turns to me, laughing, a smile spread across her face, even as she wraps her arms around herself and shivers. “Well, that was certainly an experience…”
Her good humor despite our current predicament makes me grin as I grab the hem of my wet t-shirt.
It worked.
I succeeded in my original goal when taking her to the falls—getting her mind off everything else. Even cold, wet, and physically miserable, the light has returned to her eyes. “We need to get warmed up.”
Lucky nods her agreement and reaches to pull off her wet shirt as I remove mine. I toss it onto the mat near the door, trying to save my floors from the worst of the water, and she does the same.
I’m immediately distracted from getting fully undressed by the way her wet bra clings to her breasts.
I swallow thickly as I struggle to drag my gaze from her nipples pebbling under the damp fabric. My cock hardens, straining against my already too tight jeans.
Fuuuuck…
This wasn’t what I intended when I took her out of the cabin today.
