by Maine, Miley
A quick glance at my phone told me it was 7:00 a.m. I was going to have to hurry. We needed to be at the summit of the mountain by 10:00 a.m.
I pulled up the shuttle schedule for the mountain. There was one coming by in fifteen minutes. I needed to get my ass in gear and hurry up. I could sit around and daydream about Logan’s bedroom skills later on.
I glanced down. I had slept completely naked, but the bedroom in the cabin was toasty warm. I looked over to see a well-tended fire. Logan even had a wood-burning fireplace in his bedroom.
When I sat up to stretch, I felt the soreness from where Logan’s big cock had pierced my body. I squeezed my thighs together, savoring the feel. Other muscles in my legs and back were sore. I guess I’d never used those before. I closed my eyes and inhaled, feeling on top of the world. Especially what I’d felt like a few days ago.
I found my clothes folded in a chair, and I pulled them on quickly.
Logan was in the kitchen, doing something that looked really gross. I wrinkled my nose. It looked like he was handling raw meat.
“Hi,” I said, remembering that he had guns in the cabin, and not wanting to startle him.
He didn't jump so he must have heard me coming. “ Hello,” he said, glancing back at me but then he turned back to whatever he was doing.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Venison. Deer meat.”
I knew that deer meat was called venison -- I was from Arkansas, after all. Hunting was a huge pastime in The Natural State. My father did not hunt, but all of our extended relatives did. Thanks to my cousins, I'd heard all about duck hunting near the rice fields, quail hunting in the meadow, and deer hunting in the woods.
From classmates who belonged to hunting clubs, I knew when it was turkey season and muzzleloading season. My uncle who lived in Mountain Home even had a special shed where he processed deer meat and cured it. Each year he tried to get me to take a bite of deer chili. I never had.
Logan did not offer any other comments. Maybe he was ready for me to leave. Since I’d never slept with a guy before, or had a one-night stand, I didn’t know the protocol. But like everything else, I’d heard sometimes guys didn't want to chat in the morning. They just wanted the girls gone.
I had known going into this that Logan wasn't going to be my boyfriend. He wasn't going to ask me on a date, he wasn't going to coddle me. I hadn't really expected his manners to improve in the light of day. And I was fine with that. I had plans of my own. I had spent enough time calculating what Winston would want to do. That part of my life, the part where I waited around on a man was over.
I did spend a minute or two staring at his backside. His jeans hugged his firm ass. He had his flannel shirt rolled up at the cuffs. They showed off his muscular forearms. He had clearly showered before I arrived, because his black hair was still damp at the edges or it curled around his ears. There were no men like him at my college. I would have to commit this sexy mountain man to memory.
If I knew him better, I would go up and kiss the back of his neck and wrap my arms around his waist. But that wasn't in the cards for me. It was time for me to move on with my life.
I picked up my purse and pulled it over my shoulder. “I’ve got to get going.”
He finally turned around, just halfway but it was better than nothing. “Big plans?”
“Yep. I found someone who would take us to the top of the summit over at Spruce River Mountain. You know the place I mentioned yesterday..”
His mouth flattened into a thin line. “The top.” the line of his jaw was tense. “You're not still talking about extreme skiing are you?”
I did not care for his tone of voice. “Yes. I am talking about exactly that. The top of the mountain. The summit,” I said although he was not owed an explanation.
He slammed the knife he was holding down on the counter. “No.”
“No? Don't tell me you're going to try and stop us again.”
“Do you want to get yourself killed?”
I kicked myself. Why hadn't I kept my mouth shut? There was no reason for Logan to know that I was going skiing on the summit. No point in ruining our morning after. But now I had opened my big mouth and blurted it out. And I wasn't backing down.
Besides I really didn't like his attitude. “Are you always this controlling?”
He moved to the sink and scrubbed his hands with soap. “I don't think you understand what I'm telling you. That mountain is not safe.” He took a step toward me, but I was not scared of him.
“You just moved here, how do you even know?”
He crossed his arms. The motion made the fabric pull tight against his biceps. “I've been to mountain ranges all over the world.”
He was such a pompous ass.
“So have I.”
His green eyes grew darker as he got angrier. “I seriously doubt you've seen as much as the world as I have.”
“Pull up a map. We can compare notes.” Now I was being just as much of an ass as he was. I knew he'd been in the military. The pub owner had told Mia and Emmaline he was a former officer in the Air Force, and I’d seen a photo in his bedroom of him in the uniform.
He huffed out a breath. “You are a girl. You're barely old enough to drink.”
Ouch. Now that stung. I raised my eyebrows. “But I was old enough for you to fuck me.”
He did not miss a beat. He was better at verbal sparring than I was. “Apparently not, if you're going to behave like a toddler.” He glared at me. “Do your parents know you're going on this trip?”
“No, and they're not going to.”
“Is it their money that pays for it?”
I was not about to tell him that I had a trust fund. Bragging about my inherited money would not make me look any more mature. I had to get out of there.
I looked at my watch. Shit. I only had a few minutes to get down the path to the shuttle stop.
I pulled open his door, but apparently he needed to get the last word in.
“You're going to get yourself killed.”
I lifted my hand in what I hoped looked like a casual wave. It was either that or flip him off. “If this is my last day on Earth, then I'm going to enjoy it. Nice knowing you.”
10
Logan
Was this woman created to torment me? I never met someone so infuriating.
I tugged at my hair. For a year now, nothing had made me this angry. I followed her to the door, determined to catch her. I wasn't above locking her in my cabin to keep her from going off on this half-cocked scheme to do some extreme skiing.
Sure I could be charged with false imprisonment. But I could take the slap on the wrist that came with it, if she decided to press charges. I wouldn't keep her long. Just long enough to try to talk some sense into her.
What have I been thinking, taking a twenty-two year-old to bed?
Obviously it was temporary insanity. Never again. I was only going to sleep with women who were thirty-four or up, and they had to be rational.
I ripped my door open nearly pulling the hinges off, only to be met with Cameron and Oliver. Fuck all. Why were they here? Hadn’t I made it clear I was done? I was not going back to the agency.
I shoved them aside. I still had time to catch up with Bethany.
“Bethany!” I yelled, but I didn’t see her black coat, her cream scarf or her bright green hat.
“Where the fuck is she?” I muttered.
“Your conquest is already gone. She moved fast.”
Cameron nudged him. “Yeah, we tried to stall her and see who she was so we could torment you, but she slipped right past us.”
I spun to face Oliver. “What did you call her?”
Oliver held up his hands. “Sorry. Is calling her a conquest crossing a line?” he grinned. “Your lady friend is already gone. The shuttle was right by your path.”
Fuck. How the hell had she gotten away from me? Was I losing my touch? And dammit, what was her obsession with this extreme skiing? It made n
o sense.
“She was fucking hot though,” Oliver said.
I grabbed him by the collar. “Get that disgusting leer off your face.”
He didn’t try to fight me off, he just grinned like a lunatic.
I let go of him and shoved him away.
Get a grip, Logan.
She wasn’t my problem. It didn’t matter if other guys thought she was hot. I would never see her again.
I’d taken her virginity, but she wasn’t my asset. She wasn’t my contact. I wasn’t responsible for her. I wasn’t responsible for anybody. Which is exactly what I wanted.
I stomped back into my cabin. I did not invite them in, but both Cameron and Oliver followed me inside.
I turned back to them. “Why are you two here?”
Cameron was my best friend, but I had no use for Oliver. Yes, he had been an efficient agent. He had always gotten the job done. But he didn't worry about collateral damage. He used whatever means necessary to achieve his goal, and if innocent people were hurt in the process then he did not give a rat's ass. If laws were broken, he didn't care about that either. If ethic rules were bent he didn't lose any sleep over it.
I reported him to my superior more than once for needlessly hitting our suspects and breaking their arms. But because of his success rate my complaints never went anywhere. I had learned that even in the CIA rules were made to be broken.
I grabbed Cameron's shoulder. “Why did you bring him here? What the hell are you thinking?”
Unconcerned with my anger, Oliver sat down on my hearth. The same place that I had first kissed Bethany just last night. I'd like to kick his stupid teeth in just for sitting there.
“Little thing called work. Do you remember that, Logan? Oliver is my partner now.”
I didn’t appreciate his sarcasm. Of course I remembered work, although I’d like to forget it. “Well get a new one.”
“You know that's not how this works.” Cameron put his hand on my arm but I shoved him away.
Oliver picked up my fire poker and twirled it in his hands. “Cameron, I told you he was going to be an ass. Why don't we just leave? We're just wasting our time.”
I charged toward him, hands curled into fists. I didn't need a fire poker to bash his brains in. I could do it with my bare hands.
“Get the fuck out of my house.”
Oliver smirked at me again. But he didn't move a muscle. I lunged and grabbed the fire poker. I snatched it from his hand and pressed the pointed part right at his throat. “Why are you here?”
I felt Cameron’s hand on my back. Then he was pulling a fire poker out of my hands. “Hey settle down. I know there's no love lost between the two of you. But you don't have to rip his throat out.”
“Yeah, jackass. We came here to help.”
I growled. “I didn't ask for your help. And I think I told you to get out.”
Oliver stood up, taking his sweet time. He looked at Cameron. “I'll see you at the base of the mountain. I'll be in the Blue Moose Pub.”
I hated the thought of Oliver’s black soul tainting Ruth’s nice little pub.
Cameron got right in my face. “What the fuck has gotten into you?”
“How can you ask me that? You know what he's done. What he’s capable of.” I pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down. “Partners?”
“You left. And you know as well as I do that the agency doesn’t give a shit about what I want.”
That was true. “Why’d you bring him to my house?”
“Because we have information. He’s the one who got it first. I think he was going to try and patch things up with you, but...” Cameron smiled. “You know, you ripped him a new one. Besides, I knew you two patching things up was never going to happen,” he said.
Cameron was a good guy. He was ethical with strong principles, but he was more pragmatic than I was. He'd always called me the idealist. He said I expected too much. Because I expected our agents to not be morally bankrupt. Apparently that was a bridge too far.
“So why are you here? Not that I don’t want you here, but I just saw you when I was in Belize.”
“The terrorists are active again. They’re following you, specifically one named Johannes. We got some intel from an agent in Hungary. And just as I suspected when I saw you in Belize, they're eventually going to catch up to you. Can't you do something low profile? Do you have to buy a plane and fly rich people around? That's kind of conspicuous.”
“It should be a good cover. CIA agents don’t have planes.” I’d bought the plane with family money. At one point, I’d been tempted to refuse the trust fund, but I’d inherited it from my grandfather, not my asshole dad. “I tried lying low when I got here,” I said. “But it didn't work out.”
“We heard about your heroics from the pub owner. She can’t stop gushing.”
“I didn't mean for that to happen.”
“I know. We just can't stand to see the little guy getting beat up on.”
He was right. It would have been smarter for me to walk away from any number of things. But I’d never been able to do that. I had to get involved. Every time, I got sucked in.
He pulled me into a hug. “Please take care of yourself.” His voice was heavy with emotion. “I don't want to lose you too.”
I let him hug me. It was the least I could do. It was my fault that his wife was dead. I wasn't sure how he could stand the side of me. Sometimes I couldn't stand the sight of me. Cameron didn't blame me. Even though I blamed myself.
“I'll get going. Just please watch your back. I know you'll never ask for help, but I have to say this. If you need some backup, I'll get it for you. We can even do it off the record. I know you don't want agents here.”
“I sure the fuck don’t.”
He patted my back. “But if you murder me, then they'll be agents crawling all over your house anyway.”
Cameron laughed when I flipped him off.
“Just for once in your life be careful, please.”
I started pushing him out the door. “Time for you to go.”
I’d had an overnight guest, and then Cameron in my house. That was more human contact than I’d had in awhile. I needed some time alone.
11
Bethany
As soon as I stepped into the lodge, I was met with ear-splitting screams. I’d been prepared to tell them about my night with Logan, but my altercation with him when I left had left me a little off-kilter.
But my friends were going to demand answers. And I’d do the same to them if they ran off in the middle of the night to meet a near-stranger in his remote cabin in the woods.
When I phrased it like that, it sounded like the start of an episode of Dateline gone wrong.
Mia waived the note I’d left in my face. “Does this mean what we think it means?”
“What do you think it means?”
“You were at Logan's cabin? And you're just now getting back?”
Emmaline grabbed my arm. “Tell us everything.”
“Yeah. I was at Logan’s.” Did I want to share the details with my friends? I would tell them the bare minimum. The rest of it was private, between me and Logan. The intimacy I had shared with him -- I wanted to keep that to myself.
Emma held one of my arms and Mia took the other. They dragged me into the living area and pushed me down on the couch.
“Were you guys just standing there waiting for me?”
“Yes,” Mia screeched. “Of course.”
“How did you know I was coming back? Oh right. The app that tracks your location.”
“We set our alerts as soon as we woke up. We've been waiting for hours.”
“We want to know everything.”
I rubbed my eyes. They were starting to burn. The late night was starting to catch up with me. “You've already said that.” I waved my hand. “We have to be ready to leave here at 10:00 a.m. for skiing.”
Mia waved her hand. “We have plenty of time.”
Emma rushed out of the r
oom and came back with a mug. “We had that cider waiting for you.” Then she came back with a mug of hot chocolate for herself and Mia.
Both of them sat across the room, staring at me.
“You both look demented,” I said. I took a sip of cider. At this point, I was going to need an espresso to wake me up. I’d felt invigorated when I woke up, but now I was crashing. And I still had to get ready for our ski trip.
“How can we not? You were with Winston for seven years. All through high school, and all through college. We shared our crazy dating stories and you helped us without fail with our relationships, but through it all you had nothing to say because Winston was always your boyfriend.”
“And he was so boring,” Emma said.
That was true enough. I never had much to add during my friends confessionals. Most of that because Winston and I didn't do much. We spent time together at school and with our parents and with our friends. We had very little drama. I thought that was a good thing at one point. I was looking forward to a steady, predictable romantic life. I might like adventure in my activities and hobbies, but when I was dating, I appreciated Winston's stable nature.
But I've been wrong about him.
“He was a boring cheater,” I said.
“I'm guessing Logan wasn't boring.”
I wasn't sure my face could flush any harder. “There was nothing dull about Logan, that’s for sure.”
Mia crossed her legs and tucked a blanket around them. “So how did you go from stomping out of his cabin to going back in the middle of the night?”
“I couldn't quit thinking about him. It bothered me that we had so much fun in the plane and then he was so angry when I mentioned skiing. I wanted to make things right.”
“Yes that's true, you're used to people liking you.”
“I'm certainly not used to them screaming at me.”
“And you think he's hot.”
“Well that's just a fact.”
Mia nodded. “He is hot for someone over thirty who lives out in the woods.”
“Over thirty? In the woods? He’s hot for anyone. He’s hotter than any A list celebrity, or male model, or for that matter, anyone I’ve ever seen.”