She didn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she rose on her tiptoes, slid her hands up to cup his face, and pressed her lips to his.
For one terrible moment, he went completely still, and she feared she’d misread everything. Then his arms tightened around her, pulling her closer as he responded with unexpected hunger. His beard tickled her chin as his mouth moved against hers, no longer tentative but confident, claiming. Heat bloomed in her chest, spreading outward despite the freezing air around them.
His hand slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head as he deepened the kiss. The taste of him made her dizzy, ormaybe that was the lack of oxygen. She didn’t care. She’d happily suffocate if it meant staying in this moment forever.
But Boone’s gruff voice shattered the moment. “For fuck’s sake.”
She pulled back, cheeks burning, though she didn’t step out of Anson’s embrace. His arms stayed fastened around her, and she glanced over at the men gathered by the truck. River and X were both grinning, and River gave her two thumbs up. Bear looked faintly uncomfortable. Boone’s expression was unreadable under the brim of his Stetson.
“What?” Anson said, still staring down at her like she was a miracle.
“Walker’s called a meeting. Main house.”
A cold that had nothing to do with the Montana winter settled in Maggie’s stomach. “When?”
“Five minutes ago. I was supposed to bring you both as soon as the truck got back.” River grinned, unrepentant. “But I figured you needed a minute to, you know, reunite. Though maybe not quite that thoroughly.”
“Let’s go.” Anson kept his arm around her as they walked, and she leaned into him. The tremors had returned to his hand, but less violently now.
The main house blazed with light, every window glowing against the darkening afternoon sky. Inside, the great room hummed with tension. Walker stood by the fireplace, arms crossed over his broad chest. Johanna perched on the arm of his chair, her expression tense. Ghost and Naomi huddled over a laptop at the dining table. Jax and Nessie sat together on one end of the big sectional couch. Jonah stood in the corner with Lila, their heads bent together in hushed conversation. The air pulsed with barely contained urgency.
Maggie’s steps faltered at the threshold. Something had happened—something worse than Evan’s social media post.
Anson’s arm tightened around her waist, steadying her as they entered the room. Every head turned toward them. The silence that fell made her skin prickle with unease.
She settled onto the couch with Anson beside her, their shoulders touching. Tension radiated from him, and she slid her hand into his, squeezing gently before addressing the room.
“What’s going on?”
Walker glanced at Ghost, who looked up from his laptop. “Landry Whitaker used his credit card at a gas station in Billings three hours ago.”
The room tilted. Anson’s grip on her waist was the only thing keeping her upright.
“Billings is a nine-hour drive from Ogallala,” Naomi added gently. “And he’s still heading west on I-90, according to his last phone ping.”
“So the post didn’t matter. He already knew where I was.”
“Maybe not exactly, but he definitely already knew you were in Montana,” Naomi said. “Someone’s been feeding him information for weeks.”
“What?” The word tore from her throat.
“There’s a pattern to his movements.” Ghost tapped something on his laptop. “He didn’t just stumble onto your trail. He’s been following breadcrumbs.”
“Who from your circle would still be in contact with him?” Naomi asked.
“I don’t—” She stopped. And suddenly she knew without a doubt. “Taryn.”
It had to be. Before Evan’s post, Taryn was the only one who knew she had come to Montana.
Anson’s hand tightened around hers in a silent reminder that she was not alone. She appreciated more than he could ever know.
“Your producer?” Naomi asked and sat down next to Ghost, opening her own laptop.
“Yes. She knows everything. She’s the only person I told where I was going. I trusted her.” A burning ache spread from the center of her chest. “Why would she do this?”
“Money,” Ghost said flatly. “Power. Some twisted loyalty to him. People’s motivations are rarely simple.”
“Or she’s being manipulated,” Johanna added more gently. “Landry sounds like the type who knows exactly which buttons to push.”
