by Elle James
“Then why eat it?” Parker asked.
Hank looked at him with a straight, serious face. “I love my wife. When you love someone as much as I love Sadie, you eat what she fixes and tell her it was the best thing yet.”
Angus laughed and turned to Bree. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”
Bree gave him a coy look. “What? You didn’t like the asparagus I made last night?”
Angus’s brow dipped, and his smile disappeared. “Huh.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “It’s a good thing I love you so much.”
Bastian envied Angus and Bree’s easy banter and the love apparent in the way they touched and kissed. He was truly happy his brothers had found women they loved with all their hearts.
If he hadn’t lost the only woman he’d ever loved in a car accident, he too might be sharing kisses at the table. Eleven years was a long time ago. He could barely remember what Lauren looked like. Only that he’d loved her with all his teenaged heart.
His gaze went to Jenna sitting across the table from him. She smiled and laughed at something Parker said.
Bastian’s chest tightened.
Jenna wasn’t the same little girl who used to tag along with Molly when they were kids. She was a fully grown and desirable woman. One who deserved a lot better man than Corley Ferguson.
Bastian had played football with Corley. He remembered Corley as someone who didn’t always play by the rules. Someone who hit harder than was necessary and, many times, after the play had ended. He’d put a number of opponents and some of his own teammates in the hospital because of how aggressive he played.
The thought of a man who was as big as Corley abusing a woman half his size made Bastian’s fists clench and his stomach roil.
Jenna deserved to find someone who would treat her like a woman should be treated. She’d always been kind to him. Even when he’d been short with her. She was gentle with her mountain man, when Bastian wanted to get straight down to the business of finding out what the old man knew.
Although anxious to know what Monson might have seen, Bastian was forced to wait.
After everyone had food on their plates, Hank dove in. “The sheriff called and let us know what happened when you went in search of Mr. Monson. That’s part of the reason we came. We’re glad you made it out safely.”
“Thanks,” Bastian said. He glanced around at the others at the table. “I guess you all know what happened then?”
Everyone nodded.
“And Mom?” he asked.
“She knows,” Angus said.
“Good.” At least he didn’t have to rehash their adventure.
“Swede and I did some footwork and cyber snooping to find out more about the preppers and survivalist organizations in the area near Eagle Rock.”
Jenna glanced sharply at Hank. “Who are they?”
“Some of them have been around for a while. Others are new startups, fed up with government controls and legislation,” Hank said.
“One of the survivalist factions, in particular, has an online social media group they post to,” Swede said. “They call themselves the Snake Dragons.”
Jenna’s face paled. “They’re the ones who attacked me first.”
“How do you know it was them?” Bastian asked.
She met Bastian’s gaze. “One of the men who chased me from the torture cabin had a tattoo on his forearm. It appeared to be a snake on one end and a dragon on the other.”
“They’re very active, and secretive,” Swede said. “All their messages are in code. I have yet to decipher them.”
“I have access to an FBI agent with excellent drone skills,” Hank said. “She’s willing to fly her drone over the nearby foothills to see if we can locate the survivalists’ camp.”
“That would be great,” Angus said. “How soon can we get her out here?”
Hank grinned. “Oh, she’s local. She’s engaged to Kujo, one of my former Delta Force guys. He’ll come out with her and bring his military war dog, Six.” Hank glanced at Molly. “You and the FBI agent have something in common,” he said.
Molly frowned. “Does she have four pushy brothers?”
Hank laughed. “No, but she has your name, Molly. Molly Greenbriar. I think you’ll like her.”
Molly grinned. “How could I not?”
Hank’s lips twisted. “True. Ms. Greenbriar could be out here as soon as tomorrow morning.”
“The sooner the better,” Bastian said. “If the survivalists are involved in my father’s disappearance, we need to find them and bring my father home.”
His brothers nodded agreement.
“You think the survivalists are after the money?” Colin asked.
“I think everyone is after that money,”
Jenna’s head dipped. “Actually, even the insurance company for the bank is looking.”
Bastian frowned. “How do you know?”
She lifted her head and stared straight into his eyes. “They pay me to keep an eye out for possible locations the money could be hidden.”
“Why didn’t you tell us that?” Bastian asked.
She shrugged. “Compared to what I saw in that cabin, I didn’t think it was important. It slipped my mind until now.”
Hank and Swede exchanged glances.
Hank faced Jenna. “Let us have the name of the insurance company and your contact. We’ll do some digging into his background and the insurance company’s track record.”
Jenna’s brow twisted. “You think the insurance company had something to do with the torture and attacks?”
“We have to check out all possible suspects,” Hanks said. “Sometimes, the least likely suspect ends up being the one who did it.” Hank gave her his cellphone number.
“Forwarding the contact name and phone number I have on my cellphone, now.” She glanced down at her cellphone, scrolled through her contacts, selected send, entered Hank’s number and hit send. A moment later, she grimaced. “No service.”
“Sorry. Cellphone reception is almost nonexistent out here,” Molly said. “Tap into our WIFI.” Molly gave her the password, and Jenna was able to join the network.
Meanwhile, Hank clicked the screen on his cellphone and entered the WIFI network.
Once Jenna was in, she found the name and number for her contact and forwarded the information to Hank.
“Got it,” Hank said. “I’ll get Ms. Greenbriar out here tomorrow. You can show her the area where the attacks have taken place. It’s likely their camp isn’t far from there.”
“We’ll be ready,” Bastian said.
Hank carried his plate to the sink and glanced out the window. “Looks like we’ll have a clear sky. I need to get back to the White Oak Ranch and take care of my animals. If you need me, you know how to reach me.”
Swede rose, grabbing a dinner roll from the basket in the middle of the table. “I guess I’m leaving too, since Hank’s my ride. Tell Mrs. McKinnon thanks. The chicken was perfect.”
“Yes. Please thank your mother for dinner and remind her not to tell Sadie I had anything fried.” He winked and left the kitchen.
Moments later the front door closed with a click.
“Did Hank leave?” Bastian’s mother asked as she entered the kitchen.
“Yes, ma’am,” Parker said.
“He and Swede said to tell you thanks for the fried chicken. It’s the best they’ve ever had,” Molly said.
“Oh, it’s a shame they didn’t stay long enough to meet the Earl Monson I knew and loved.” She turned in the doorway and glanced behind her. “It’s okay. They’re just finishing up supper. Come on in.”
A man Bastian barely recognized stepped through the door, cleanshaven, his shaggy hair slicked back from his forehead, and wearing clean jeans and a plaid flannel shirt. The shirt and jeans were too big, but they were a far cry better than the smelly clothing he’d worn earlier.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” his mother said. “This is Earl Monson, a dear friend.�
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Earl nodded, looking up briefly at the faces in the room before he lowered his head and started to turn.
He’s going to make a run for it, Bastian guessed.
His mother hooked Earl’s arm, preventing him from darting away. “Since everyone else is finished with supper, won’t you stay and keep me company while I eat?”
Earl looked from the faces at the table to Bastian’s mother and back.
Jenna pushed her chair back. “I think it would be a good idea to move this conversation to the living room and give Mrs. McKinnon and Mr. Monson a chance to eat their dinner.”
Everyone seemed to move at once, carrying their dishes to the counter beside the sink.
“I’ll do the dishes when your mother is finished eating,” Jenna promised.
“And I’ll help,” Molly added. “It is a beautiful night. Why don’t we adjourn to the front porch and enjoy the stars that only shine this brightly in Montana?”
Everyone but Bastian’s mother and Earl Monson left the kitchen.
Bastian paused at the door. All cleaned up, Earl didn’t look like the crazed mountain man who’d saved Jenna’s life. Still, he was the same man, and Bastian was on the fence over leaving his mother with Earl.
His mother guided Earl to the table and urged him to take a seat. “Smells good, doesn’t it?” she said with a smile. When she noticed Bastian at the door, her brow dipped briefly. “You don’t have to stay, Bastian. Earl and I are going to catch up on old times. His wife, Vera, and I used to be in the same quilting club.” She patted the man’s arm. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”
Earl didn’t answer, but he reached up and covered her hand with his. And were those tears in the old man’s eyes?
Bastian nodded. “If you need anything, all you have to do is yell. We’ll be on the front porch with the door open to let fresh air in.” And noises out.
Hopefully, Monson would get the message that they’d be listening for trouble.
His mother nodded and waved a hand at him, shooing him out of the kitchen. “Go on. We’re hungry, and you’re holding us up from digging into what’s left of the fried chicken.”
Reluctantly, Bastian left the kitchen and walked down the hallway and out onto the front porch.
Duncan sat with Fiona on the porch swing, holding Caity in his lap. Angus and Bree sat side by side in matching rocking chairs, holding hands and staring out into the darkness lit up by a billion twinkling stars. Colin stood with an arm around Emily’s shoulders, stargazing as well.
Molly sat on the steps, her back leaning against the post, her eyes closed.
Parker stood in the yard, his hands in his pockets. His gaze wasn’t on the heavens but on the pasture. The man worked all the time. He was probably thinking about what needed to be done the next day.
Only one person was missing from the scene.
“Where’s Jenna?” Bastian asked.
“I don’t know,” Angus replied. “She was here a moment ago.”
“She went out to the barn,” Parker said.
“By herself?”
“I asked her if she wanted company.” Parker shrugged. “She said she preferred to be alone.”
His senses on alert, Bastian stepped down from the porch and hurried out to the barn. Jenna had been attacked on more than one occasion in the past forty-eight hours. The Iron Horse Ranch wasn’t on lockdown, nor did they have guards on the gates, the house or barn to keep trespassers from walking in, fully loaded and ready to rumble.
Bastian opened the barn door. The lights were on, casting a soft yellow glow throughout. A horse pawed the ground as if it was irritated by the disturbance.
“Jenna?” Bastian called out.
Nothing.
“Jenna?” he called out more forcefully.
She popped out of the tack room, a frown denting her brow. “I thought I heard someone. Hi, Bastian. Can I help you with something?”
“You can help by getting back to the house,” he said, his voice a little more cross than he wanted it to be. But, dammit, she’d worried him.
She propped her fists on her hips. “Look, I appreciate your help in keeping me alive, but I have to keep moving or I’ll go nuts.” She sighed. “I should be working. Every day I’m out of the office, it takes twice as long to get back into the swing. I need to go back to work.”
“You can’t,” he said, firmly. “Not while you’re at risk of being shot, kidnapped or killed.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. If I don’t work, I don’t earn. If I don’t earn, I can’t pay my bills or save for a house of my own.”
“I understand. Yet if you go out showing property, you might be attacked again. You don’t need to earn money or pay rent if you’re dead.”
Her shoulders sagged. “You’re right, and you know how I am about winning an argument.”
“Fanatical?” He smiled down at her. “I remember.” He reached out and captured her arms in his hands. “You would run harder and faster than any guy in school, just to prove a point.”
“And yet, you’re in the Navy SEALs, saving the world, while I’m rotting away in a small town, working for peanuts and scarce paychecks that don’t come often enough.” Jenna sighed. “You’ve seen and done it all.”
“Not all,” he said.
“What haven’t you done that you regret not doing?” she whispered.
His mind skimmed over the images of his brothers holding onto their women. He’d never seen them happier, and he found himself envious of their newfound joy.
Was he wrong to deny himself that same joy? Would Lauren have wanted him to grieve for her for the rest of his life?
He stared down at Jenna, his promise to Lauren having faded with time and the realization he couldn’t grieve forever.
“I haven’t kissed you,” he said, his gaze dropping to her full, luscious lips.
Her eyes rounded, and a deeply indrawn breath made her chest rise and brush against his. “Life is short,” she said. “No regrets.” She slid her hand up his chest, circled the back of his neck and brought his mouth down to hers.
Sweet Jesus, what were they doing?
Bastian couldn’t help it. He had to kiss her. Had to hold her in his arms. Gathering her closer, he crushed her in his arms and bent to take what she offered, and then some.
What began as a light brush of her lips across his, quickly morphed into an intensity of emotion that robbed him of his senses.
Chapter 9
Jenna clung to Bastian, her arms wrapped around his neck, her hips pressed hard against his. She could feel the rise of his desire, nudging her belly, and she wanted so much more.
All her teenaged angst was nothing compared to the tidal wave of longing…no…lust rising up to consume her. She’d never felt like this with Corley. She hadn’t known these kinds of feelings existed. She’d never considered that the kind of desire she’d found in fiction was real.
Boy howdy, it was.
She opened to him, meeting his tongue with hers, countering every one of his thrusts, tangling, toying and teasing until she gasped for breath.
Still, it wasn’t enough.
Jenna moved her hands down to his chest and worked the buttons free on his shirt, one at a time, frustrated by how long it was taking.
Bastian grabbed the hem of her cotton sweater and yanked it over her head. Then he must have remembered where they were. He scooped her into his arms and carried her up the wooden staircase to the loft above.
She loved how strong he was. He didn’t even breathe hard as he climbed the stairs.
Once in the loft with the pungent scent of hay surrounding them, he lowered her feet to the ground and kissed her again.
He started slowly, exploring her mouth then her cheek, the sensitive spot below her earlobe and down the column of her neck to linger where her pulse beat frantically.
“Bastian,” she breathed. “You’re killing me.”
“Sweetheart, it’s a two-way str
eet.”
“Then let me get this race car rolling,” she said and reached for the button on his jeans, flicking it open. Then she lowered the zipper ever so slowly, careful not to hurt him.
His shaft sprang free, making her smile. The man was a Navy SEAL. Of course, he went commando.
She palmed his staff, weighing it in her hand, testing the hardness, the girth and the length. Holy hell, he was big. And she wanted him.
Inside. Now.
Jenna let go of him, reached behind her back and unclipped her bar, letting the straps slide down her arms.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asked.
She looked up at him in the dim light from the bulb burning in another part of the barn. “Never more certain of anything in my life.”
When she slid her hands into the waistband of his jeans, he gripped her arms and stopped her. “I want you to know, I would never intentionally hurt you,” he said. “I’m not that kind of man.”
She looked up into his eyes. “I know. I wouldn’t be with you, if you were.”
Still, he wouldn’t release her arms to let her continue stripping him.
“If at any time you change your mind about what we’re doing, all you have to do is tell me,” he said. “I’ll stop.”
Again, she stared into his eyes. “I know.”
Then he smiled, that incredibly sexy smile that melted her knees and other wetter places in her body. Jenna almost swooned but held it together for what would come next.
She worked his jeans down over his buttocks, while kicking off her boots.
He toed off his boots and worked on the button on her jeans, fumbling to the point she shoved his hands aside and released the button herself. She unzipped and shimmied out of the denim, letting it pool at her ankles in the loose hay.
“Have you ever lain naked in the hay?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Have you?”
He nodded. “It’s not as sexy as it sounds. We could dress and go back inside and up to our rooms.”