Best of 2017

“Excuse me?” I gawked at him.

Garrett, Hart, and I had spent the morning getting up to speed on my surveying project and the issues surrounding my father’s disappearance. Hart had taken it well, far better than I could have hoped. Of the two br

others, the younger one was far more easygoing, and I couldn’t see the dominance that Garrett hinted lived beneath Hart’s surface.

Hart patted my knee. “I changed majors to pre-med. Maybe I can help.” He shot me a disarming smile and dropped to his knees. “Let’s see how it’s healing up.”

“All right.” I rolled up the leg of my black lounge pants.

He bent over and ran his fingertips along the scars. “Too bad about the marks, but they’ll fade.”

“I figure they’re going to be permanent.” I shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it. Bonnie brought some cream that I put on them every night. I can’t really tell a difference, but she swears by the stuff.”

“Any muscle damage?” He began kneading my leg, his strong fingers working my flesh as I leaned back against the cushions.

“That feels amazing, and no, I think the tusks went clean through. It feels weird to say this, but I think I got lucky with the injuries. And I know I lucked out with Garrett saving me that night.” I moaned when he reached a particularly knotted spot toward the top of my calf.

“You might not have any lingering muscle damage, but your leg needs a good working over to get it back in shape. Relying on the right leg has weakened the left.”

“Yeah?” I peered down at him, his bright eyes shaded by the hair along his brow.

He tried to run his fingers to my knee, but the rolled pants blocked him. “Do you mind? I can’t get a good idea of what sort of things might help without a look at the whole leg.”

“I, um…” I started to shake my head, but he pressed his fingers along my calf again, the sensation akin to a knotted ball of string unraveling.

“Let me help.” He snagged his fingers in the waist of my pants and tugged. He made an mmm sound and pulled again.

I grabbed his wrists. “I’m not sure if this is—”

“Hart!” Garrett’s voice ricocheted around the living room like a shot as he stormed in. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

I yanked my pants back into place. “He’s pre-med. He was just checking my leg and—”

Garrett strode over, fisted the back of Hart’s polo, and dragged him to his feet. “Pre-med, huh?”

Hart grinned, mischief all over his face. “Pre-law and pre-med are practically the same thing.”

I shot to my feet. “You asshole!” Mortification painted my cheeks pink.

“Oh, come on.” He ducked out of his brother’s grasp. “She owed me one after the beetle crap I fell for. And really, what’s a little perving—nice lace panties by the way—between friends?”

Garrett took a menacing step toward Hart, who backed away and almost tripped over the ottoman.

Garrett’s glower darkened. “She’s my guest. Mine.”

“Sorry, my bad.” Hart’s smile undermined his words.

Garrett lunged for him, and Hart darted around the back of the couch and out into the hall. He winked at me before dashing toward the stairs. Garrett followed, but Hart was already pounding up the steps.

“Fucker!” Garrett called after him.

Hart’s laughter grew fainter until a door upstairs slammed and cut it off entirely.

Garrett stalked back into the living room, his eyes focused on me. I stood my ground, even as he churned toward me like a hurricane on the sea. When he reached me, he took my face in his hands and smashed his lips to mine.

Possession. He lowered me to the couch, his body covering mine as we sank down. I gripped his forearms, digging my nails into his skin as he filled every corner of my being with thoughts of him.

When he released me from his all-consuming kiss, he stared down at me, his eyes darkened with desire.

“You’re mine. You probably think you can just leave here when you’re done with all this.” He pressed his thigh against me, rubbing between my legs. “Maybe find some asshole who closes his eyes as he fucks you so sweetly.”

“I—”

“Not a man like me who takes what he wants.” He slid a hand down to my breast and squeezed until it hurt.

I leaned up to capture his lips, to soothe the beast. But he hovered out of range, his stormy eyes raging.

“You’re mine.” He moved a hand to my throat. “I won’t let you go. I can’t. I’ll destroy any man who tries to take you from me.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I ran my palm along his scruffy cheek. “I’m here with you.”

He kissed me again, this time gentler, though his need—his need for me—burned me deeper than anything I’d ever felt.

Raw and rough, he spoke his heart. His words created a new sensation inside me, an inexplicable cocktail of hope, heat, and something stronger. I didn’t dare define it, but as I ran my fingers through his unruly hair, I wished the feeling would never stop.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

GARRETT CARRIED MY PACK out the front door along with a small one of his own. I finished lacing my boots and followed him out into the brusque wind. The sky was overcast, promising rain later as a front moved in. We had until about three in the afternoon to do our first bit of surveying before the rain arrived.

“You sure today’s the day?” He stowed our packs on the back of the red ATVs and glanced at the clouds.

“Yes. I can’t wait around for the sun to pop out in a few days.” I stretched my bad leg, happy with the absence of pain or discomfort. “Besides, I’m already behind.”

I’d scouted the best route to a mounded area on the southeast edge of the property. The ATVs should be able to make it there and back again with ease. I also hoped to check out another odd spot on the satellite image. I’d shown it to Garrett, and we both surmised it was some sort of shack hidden in a thicket along the edge of a dense stand of pines. He’d been just as puzzled as I was about it being on his property. We were equally stumped by the photos in Lillian’s camera, and Garrett couldn’t determine which hunter’s mark graced the trees in the background. Square one wasn’t so bad, though, now that I had Garrett to scout with me.

I hurried to my car and snagged the pistol from my glove box.

Garrett eyed me as I walked up, then reached behind his back and pulled out his own handgun. “We’re armed to the teeth. I don’t think any boars are going to get the drop on us.”

I slung a leg over my ATV. “It’s not the boars I’m worried about.”

He walked over and tipped my chin up. “You’re safe with me. Nothing is going to happen to you on my watch.” Leaning down, he kissed me with a sweetness that infused me with delicious warmth.

“Is that a gentler version of ‘I’ll cut a bitch’?” I smiled against his lips.

“I’ll do a lot worse than that if anyone lays a finger on you.” He claimed my mouth again, more urgent this time.

I answered, my tongue sweeping against his as he roped my ponytail around his fist. It had been five days since I ran from him. We’d spent hours lying in bed, plenty of mealtimes cooking together, and our nights sleeping together. After that, I’d had a couple more days of laughing with Hart, the two men playing off each other and amusing me to no end.

After Garrett had marked his territory via loud, rough sex on the living room couch, Hart didn’t try any more come-ons. The night before he’d returned to school, he’d told tales of campus conquests until the wee hours, though I suspected half of the women he claimed to have bedded were solely in his imagination. Entertaining all the same, and something about him being around lulled Garrett into a happier mood. Quicker to laugh and throw witty comebacks, quicker to kiss me whenever we got a moment alone.

He pulled back. “If we don’t stop, I’m going to drag you into the house and fuck the day away.”

I pinned my lips between my teeth and shook my head. “No can do. Work first.”

He groaned and dropped another kiss on my lips, his beard tickling my cheeks, before backing away. I admired the low-slung jeans, button-down red plaid shirt, and simple sheepskin coat. When he turned to finish stowing his gear, the view of his pe

rfectly toned ass almost made me change my mind about staying home.

“Oh, one more thing.” He grabbed the black helmet hanging from his handlebar and walked over. “Put this on.”

I worked my ponytail down until it hung low against my neck, then slid the helmet on. It fit well, and the visor did a great job of blocking the wind while still giving decent visibility. Once satisfied I was concussion-proof, Garrett walked back to his ATV and mounted it.

I flipped the visor up. “Where’s your helmet?”

His signature smirk appeared. “I live dangerously, Red.” He cranked his machine and drowned out my protest.

I glared at him and hit the ignition on mine. It roared to life.

He pulled my map from his pocket, checked it once, then pointed past the house and into the woods. I nodded and gripped the handlebars.

He eased down the cracked driveway. I followed, puttering along. Then I got a wild hair. Twisting the handle, I gave it some gas and motored around Garrett.

I zoomed across the driveway and onto the leaf-strewn lawn. The tree line loomed ahead, but Garrett flew past me. I tried to bite back my laugh as he gave me an exasperated stare, though a smile crept along the corners of his lips.

He slowed as he came to the edge of the woods. “Keep up, Andretti, and stay behind me.”

I bobbed my head and followed him under the canopy of trees. It took me fifteen minutes, a couple of rotten trees, and a handful of small streams to get the hang of the ATV, but once I figured out my limits, we made good time. We headed straight for the mounded area that could indicate Native American activity.

Garrett followed the map well, and I couldn’t help but be impressed with his skills at navigating the rough terrain and leading us through the tougher areas. We reached the mound just before eleven and parked under a huge oak at the edge of the rise.

“Lunch, then work. You warm enough?” He walked over and pulled my helmet off before removing his gloves and pressing his palms to my cheek.

“I’m warm. Don’t worry.” I ran my palms along the backs of his hands.

“You sure?” He grabbed my fingers. “Your hands could be warmer. I’ll start a fire.”