Burn on the Western Slope (Crimson Romance)

by Smith, Angela

  “I don’t know, but that’s a great idea.”

  Garret’s ire bubbled into a furious swelling of words he had to suppress. He couldn’t reveal to his boss that it bothered him. Couldn’t let on he felt anything for this woman, or he’d be booted off the investigation so fast his head wouldn’t have time to swim.

  “What about Dawnya Johnson?”

  “Ms. Johnson had another assignment.”

  “He’s been here a week, and you’re just now telling me? What, you don’t trust me anymore?”

  “Of course I trust you. But I don’t trust Javier Mass.”

  “Be sure to warn me who my friends are next time,” Garret said before ending the call. If he didn’t end it, he’d say something he’d ultimately regret.

  Tanner was a fed, but Garret considered him an enemy. He showed an interest in Reagan, he took her out to dinner, and he intruded on Garret’s investigation.

  It pissed him off. Garret was trying to be professional by keeping his distance from Reagan, but Tanner jumped right in and attempted a post-dinner invitation into her condo. And her pants.

  Wasn’t going to happen as long as Garret had a say.

  Garret had trailed Reagan all week. She didn’t go crazy buying herself or all her friends back home souvenirs. She’d bought lip balm and a magazine today, and Naomi finally convinced her to buy a sweatshirt with Montana imprinted on the front.

  Pride swelled — among other things — when her eyes had fluttered across his naked chest. He affected her, at least a little. Maybe not as much as she affected him, but he could do a lot with a little.

  He hadn’t invited her in for fear he would do something incredibly stupid. Like kiss her. He had to get his head on straight. His duties as a federal agent required him to neglect his emotions. Emotions were dangerous. His were turning toxic. He couldn’t breathe with her near because he only smelled her minty, citrusy, sexy scent. Even now, he tasted mint, and not the overwhelming toothpaste or chewing gum type of mint. This was subtle, just like Reagan.

  Now a watchdog trailed him. If he wasn’t on his best behavior, Tanner would report everything to Buchanan. And so what if he did report Garret? Hell, he’d walked in on Tanner’s lips zeroing in on Reagan’s, and his heart still beat in fury at the image. And not because he was pissed off about the investigation. No, he didn’t want another man’s hands on her.

  He didn’t like working with people he didn’t know, and he didn’t know Tanner. He only knew he didn’t like Tanner.

  Garret was supposed to be relaxing on his break — he’d earned the extravagance and paid the price way ahead of time. If he didn’t have to abide Buchanan’s ridiculous request, he would’ve already slept with Reagan.

  He’d damn sure try, at least.

  Chapter Nine

  The next morning, Garret equipped Reagan with clothing and gear for their outing. He taught her the basics of skiing on a groomed, level trail. The closest person stood hundreds of feet away, so she didn’t have to imagine anyone running over her or vice versa.

  “Imagine yourself skating.”

  She hadn’t been skating in years. Never was good at it.

  Once she managed to walk on level ground, he pointed to a small hill. “Now let’s try to ski downhill a bit,” he said, and taught her how to ascend the hill.

  As she waddled her way up the slope, snowflakes whispered past, each telling its own story of beauty and tragedy. The raw wintry air made it easier to ignore Garret’s encroachment in her emotions. Bundled in his thick ski jacket and pants, it was hard to tell he was carved from steel.

  They made a few runs down a small slope, then wobbled up a larger one. Well, large to her. In reality it was a small hill, but the ascent burned the insides of her thighs and made her throat ache. Her lips tasted like a charred marshmallow. Sweet, yet overly toasted from the snow, wind, and air.

  “Here we are,” Garret said as she stopped beside him, his breath warm in her ear like another marshmallow roasted from a fire, though this one fresh and seared just enough to be soft, gooey, and sweet.

  Her first few ski runs had been exhilarating, but looking down into the snow-covered trees intimidated her. Seeing other skiers on this part of the mountain intimidated her. The mountains swaddling this open terrain intimidated her.

  “Come on,” Garret said before taking off, his goggles secured on top of his head, not covering his eyes.

  Garret intimidated her. He probably wondered what in the world he was doing with her when he could be out having fun. She’d seen children skiing more mature slopes yet she was ready to let fear defeat her.

  She felt like a failure around him. He was rugged and good-looking, and knew how to prepare for bears and avalanches. She was a city girl whose only survival techniques included fighting traffic and occasionally bypassing an alligator on the side of the road.

  She was comfortable with failure. She held onto it for fear of changing, fear of finding success with dreams she hadn’t admitted in a long time.

  Right now, those dreams included skiing. At least one run downhill.

  Staring at the white powder and struggling to steady herself by taking slow, deep breaths, she crouched. Remember the steps. Remember what Garret told you. Keep the tips of the skis together, the backs pointed out to make a V, knees bent, weight on the inside of her feet. It took all of ten seconds before she reached bottom. Safe. Sound. Secure.

  “That was unbelievable,” she exclaimed, glancing at the hill she’d accomplished. Pride swelled, her whole body cheering and raving at her triumph.

  “Ready to do it again?”

  This was probably nothing to him. He was used to plunging thousands of feet at hundreds of miles an hour. Okay, maybe not hundreds, but this was probably kindergarten to him.

  “Yes,” she squealed. It might feel like kindergarten to him, but she’d conquered the world.

  An hour later, she’d gone down a dozen times. Her knees ached, her thighs burned, and her butt stung as if she’d been sliding downhill all this time with nothing protecting her from the snow. She wasn’t ready to stop until Garret wanted to take her to the real slopes. A beginner’s slope, but one that would have more people and longer trails.

  “Maybe I should do that another time,” she said.

  “No, you do it now. I’ll never be able to get you back here if you don’t do it now.”

  She fell to the ground and let the snow crunch into her. “But I’m so tired.”

  “No you’re not.” He snagged her poles and reached out his arm.

  “And I’m so hungry.” She waved her arms and legs, forming a snow angel.

  He planted his knee in the snow, between her open legs before she could close them. Fire shot through her. Seizing her arm, he stood, pulling her up with him.

  “Do I have to ride one of those things?” She glanced at the lift moving high up the mountain. Her heart pounded with a fury that had nothing to do with excitement.

  “Yes, and it’s a blast. You’ll love it. So stop letting fear get in your way. I’ll be right beside you the whole time.”

  “Fear, smear. Don’t try to convince me with your woman power words,” she teased, but the proud smile on his face made her want to do anything to please and impress him.

  She followed his lead and sat on the chair lift.

  “We’re getting off at the first stop,” Garret said. “Keep your ski tips up and move out of the way quickly.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes, trying to imagine herself completing this run without falling. She hadn’t fallen yet, but then again she hadn’t gone down anything that could compare to this run.

  “And don’t close your eyes,” Garret continued. “You need to know where you’re going.”

  Sure her heart had fled, safely ensconced back in her condo and hiding under the covers — exactly where she’d like to be right now — she opened her eyes and looked at Garret.

  “You’ll do fine. Put on your goggles. It’s time.”

&
nbsp; Pushing away from the ramp, she lost her balance and fell. Garret managed to lift her out of the way before she could think, and she was upright again, moving slowly on a flat ground.

  “I’ll be right behind you. Now go.”

  She went. She couldn’t have him irritated with her and after today, he’d probably never speak to her again. He’d avoid her, at the very least, as he had the past week.

  Refusing to let her lack of grace affect her, she let out a whoop as she kept her weight on her right foot and managed a left turn. Kids in helmets tucked into a racing position flew past her, straight down the hill. Laughter bubbled in her chest as she managed to stop at the end without tumbling.

  “That was so much fun!”

  “Told you.”

  “Can we do it again?”

  “You ready to go one more up?”

  “Um, no. This was fine.” She glanced at the ski lift and imagined how bored he must be with her on the bunny slopes. “But you go ahead. You don’t have to babysit me.”

  “No way,” Garret said. “I’m with you.”

  • • •

  After a few hours of skiing, Garret and Reagan changed into regular winter clothes and hiked to a canyon.

  “Thank you for your patience with me,” Reagan said as she sat beside him on a knoll of snow and furled her legs under her. “I had a blast today.”

  Garret had a blast, too. He usually conquered the extreme slopes and had forgotten the possibilities of simple fun. Watching her ski downhill, imagining the softness of her body under those ski clothes, her eyes sparkling with the giddiness of accomplishment. Seeing her like that, it was impossible to imagine her involved with monsters.

  “You’ll be sore tomorrow.”

  “I’m already sore.”

  “It’ll be worse tomorrow.” Taking a thermos from his backpack and unscrewing the cap, Garret handed it to Reagan. “Want some minty hot chocolate?”

  Reagan accepted the drink, her lips curling into a flirty smile that dipped into her cheeks. “How did you know mint is my weakness?”

  “You mentioned once at Air Dog you love it.”

  “You remember that?” She lowered her lids and drew another sip from the thermos. Garret watched her throat move as she drank.

  His body responded by tightening and hardening in places it shouldn’t.

  She glanced at him, then moved her gaze to the canyon. “Oh my God, look!” She dropped the thermos and grasped his arm, pointing in the direction of an elk. The animal glanced up, stared at them, and slowly wandered away. “How beautiful.”

  Things couldn’t have gone more perfect if he’d been trying to seduce her. Which he wasn’t, exactly. “Yes, it is,” he said, studying her. The way her hair wisped out of her cap and curled the rest of the way down her shoulders, the way her eyes lit up with the beauty of the earth. He stroked a strand of her hair and brought it to his lips. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

  She turned to him, her lips red and eyes dark. He cupped the back of her neck with his hand and claimed her mouth, tasting chocolate and mint. His stomach coiled in longing and pain as the silk of her tongue twined with his. He wanted her in his bed. Or her bed. Or any bed. Or right here in the snow. Hell, he didn’t care as long as he had her, and the sooner the better, before he had to take matters into his own hands, quite literally.

  “Harrumph.” Someone cleared their throat behind them, obviously eager to gain their attention. Reagan flinched away, blushing, as if ashamed to be caught kissing him.

  Tanner sat between and to the side of them, making a triangle. And wasn’t that nice.

  “Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Tanner said.

  Yeah right.

  “It’s a blue bird day, isn’t it?” Tanner asked.

  What the fuck? It wasn’t like this was an everyday hangout. How had Tanner come up on them, accidentally? No, this was no accident. He had to have been watching them, and what perfect timing, too.

  “I saw you skiing,” Tanner said to Reagan. “You looked great.”

  “Oh, I don’t think great is the accurate word to use, but I haven’t broken any limbs yet.”

  “I remember when I first learned to ski,” Tanner said. Reagan smiled politely, as if the kiss they shared didn’t still burn a hole through her as it did Garret. “I was five, my brother was eight. He pushed me down the hill, didn’t give me a chance. I rolled over and over. Scared the crap out of me and for a while I wouldn’t ski.”

  “You poor thing,” Reagan said.

  Garret clenched his fists tighter, his gut tense. He half expected Reagan to cup Tanner’s face and stroke him like a poor child.

  “That’s okay,” Tanner said. “I got up again and went down on both feet. Loved it. Now it kills him to know I’m a better skier. What about you?” he asked Garret.

  “Nothing that exciting,” Garret mumbled. And if it was, he’d be an idiot for saying so.

  “I’ve been water skiing a dozen times,” Reagan said. “I don’t know why I was so afraid of tumbling down a hill.”

  “Oh, oh, yeah I’ve hit my head before on the water and had to have stitches.”

  “Oh my,” Reagan said. “That hurts.”

  Was she actually interested in this stupid shit? Did she want to hear the bad things that happened in Garret’s life? He had plenty to share, if that’s what it took to interest her.

  “Hey, what didn’t kill me has made me stronger,” Tanner said, making Reagan laugh. “Gar, we should go skiing together one day. Do you heli-ski?”

  Gar? Since when had Tanner known Garret enough to call him by a nickname? And heli-skiing? Garret only did something that extreme with people he trusted. Doing otherwise was probably what got Chris killed.

  “Maybe,” he muttered so they’d both stop looking at him as if expecting an answer.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Tanner spread out his hands as he glanced at the landscape.

  “It is,” Reagan replied, never granting Garret a glance.

  What the hell?

  He wondered how long it’d take for Tanner to report his kiss to Buchanan. He didn’t know Tanner well, but he reminded Garret of a guy who would do anything to take over, and that meant booting Garret off the investigation. He’d been warned to stay in the background, but hadn’t so far.

  What if Tanner did report him? He was investigating her, right? Playing her. Wooing her. That’s exactly what Buchanan told him to do.

  Only, he didn’t treat it like a game. He forgot his investigation, his dead partner, his job as an undercover FBI agent. He forgot everything when he was near Reagan.

  He wanted to punch Tanner for interrupting and wondered if infatuation was written all over Garret’s face. This was his investigation, and he planned on fighting for it. How was he supposed to find out anything if Tanner interrupted all the time?

  He could get up, vow it was lunchtime, and hope to hell Reagan came along with him. And if she didn’t? He’d leave her and Tanner alone? He didn’t think so. He wouldn’t take that chance. His other option? Stay and listen to their banter.

  “I missed lunch,” Reagan said, as if she and Garret surfed the same wavelength. “And I’m starving.”

  Tanner, of course, was at her side in an instant, seizing her backpack and helping her stand.

  She dusted the powder from her pants and glanced at Garret, much to his delight. “Want to grab a bite?”

  Garret stood and politely freed the pack from Tanner’s grip and grasped Reagan’s elbow. “Sounds like a great idea.”

  “Would you like to have lunch with us?” she asked Tanner.

  And didn’t that just suck? She was probably trying to be polite but Garret knew Tanner would take her up on the offer.

  “I can’t, but I appreciate the offer.”

  • • •

  Garret and Reagan rode the gondola up to a slope side restaurant.

  The sun twined its glitter through strands of trees, ducked behind clouds to restock,
and emerged with more intensity. Reagan had never seen anything more beautiful.

  Retrieving lip balm from her bag, she applied it to her peeling lips. “Want some?” she asked when she caught Garret staring.

  “I would love some.” Garret pursed his mouth, as if expecting her to apply the sustenance.

  Fingers trembling, she dotted a small amount to his already soft and kissable lips. She flicked her tongue against her teeth, longing to explore his mouth again without the hazard of being interrupted. She should have invited him back to her condo instead of agreeing to dine on the slopes. Usually, she wasn’t that kind of girl. Maybe she should become that kind of girl.

  Finding a place by a window in the restaurant, Garret and Reagan removed their caps, parkas, and gloves and set them on a free chair. His shades rested atop his head, and Reagan folded hers in her bag.

  The waitress came, brought them water and a menu, and they both ordered coffee.

  Reagan studied the menu. She didn’t want to eat too much. She hoped their kiss would lead to something more, and it wouldn’t do to have a full stomach.

  “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, but I think you should steer clear of Tanner,” Garret said.

  Dropping the menu on the table, Reagan glanced at him. His eyes reminded her of the various colors of the mountains, and the emotions they wrought in her were the same heightened awareness. “What wrong idea would I get?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not trying to tell you who to go out with but as a friend, I think you should know he’s not honorable.”

  A friend? Why did her heart feel it’d been beaten with a meat cleaver and left out in the sun to rot? And why had he kissed her earlier if they were just friends?

  And why did she care? Wasn’t that what she wanted?

  “He offered to show me around town,” Reagan said defensively. She hadn’t expected this. “We went out once, which was enough to know I’m not interested in him.”

  The waitress brought their coffee. “Are you ready to order?”

  “Oh.” Reagan grabbed her menu, thankful for the interruption. Food hadn’t crossed her mind. “I’ll have the Reuben sandwich and onion soup.”

  “I could show you around town,” Garret said when the waitress left.