“Sloane…”
I don’t want him to stop. So I lean in again. He kisses me back, rougher this time, like he’s done holding back.
“Carter.” Walker’s voice cuts in from behind us.
He goes still and slowly, he pulls away.
“We’ve got movement down the ridge,” Walker says. “Three of them.”
Carter’s focus shifts immediately, his attention locking onto Walker like I’m not even standing in his arms anymore. Except his hands are still holding my waist, the fingers on both hands kneading my flesh as his training takes over. I step back,catching my breath. The fear from earlier doesn’t come back the same way.
I know exactly who’s standing between me and whatever is coming, and I know he’s not going to let anything happen to me.
Carter
My best friend of over a decade just interrupted me with that look on his face that says shit is hitting the fan, and I still have the very real urge to put him on his back for it.
I would have, if not for what he says next.
“Vance spotted three of them coming up from Bramble.”
The shift is immediate. I haven’t been on active duty in over a year but that doesn’t matter. Once a SEAL always a SEAL. A second ago, my attention was on Sloane, on the way she pulled me back into the kiss like she didn’t want me to ever stop, and now that gets set aside because it has to.
“What direction?” I ask.
“South trail. Moving slow.”
I nod once, already running the terrain in my head. There are only a few ways up that side of the mountain without tearing up a vehicle, and if they’re taking their time, they’re trying to make sure they don’t walk into something they can’t handle.
In a surprisingly smart maneuver, they’re avoiding town altogether. They must be trying to silence Sloane without any witnesses.
Behind me, I can hear her breathing shift, feel her attention on me without turning around. She’s waiting for me to tell her what happens next, and I don’t leave her standing in the lurch for long.
Turning back to her I step in close enough that she doesn’t have to raise her voice above a whisper to talk to me.
“Lock the door behind me and don’t open it unless it’s me or Walker,” I tell her.
Her eyes move over my face like she’s committing it to memory.
“Carter—”
“I’ve got it,” I say, keeping my tone steady. “Every man on our side, served with me in the Navy. They know this mountain a hell of a lot better than those bozos ever could. You’re safe here and I’ll be home soon.”
She nods, even if I can see she doesn’t like it, but that’s enough. Sloane’s got grit, and I know she can handle whatever today brings.
Walker is already moving and I fall into step beside him as we head down the slope. We don’t talk once we’re out of sight of the cabin. We don’t need to. This isn’t the first time we’ve moved together like this, and it doesn’t take anything more than a glance for us to split up without saying a word.
I take the lower line through the trees where the ground is softer and the cover is thicker. The air is still enough that sound carries, and the men trying to sneak up to my cabin are not being careful enough to compensate for it.
I hear them before I see them.
Three voices, low and steady, moving along the trail without any real concern about who might be ahead of them. They think they’re still outside of earshot.
They’re not.
I close the distance until I have a clear line of sight, crouched behind a fallen log that gives me a view of the trail without exposing my position. Three men in leather cuts, spread out just enough to give themselves space without losing each other as the sun begins to set.
One of them drifts a step behind the others.
