by Em Petrova
Three was after sex conversation.
“So how long are you back in town for?” Her breath washed over his chest.
Oh shit. Here it is.
“Dunno. Not long, I think.”
“How long have you been gone?”
“Years. But I came back when my father died last year.” Why tell her these things?
“I grew up here and I can’t say I have any desire to leave. I love Stokes.”
“What do you do here?”
“I’m a game warden.”
He chuckled—tonight her appearance was the exact opposite of a stodgy officer. “I want to see you in uniform.”
“It’s not very glamourous.”
“What made you become a game warden?”
“I always helped animals I found and I wanted to go on protecting wildlife. When I was six, a momma deer got hit on the road near our house and I picked up the fawn and biked it all the way home. We nursed it a bit, but had to hand it over to a petting zoo nearby.”
He knew that petting zoo. One time he’d sneaked in to have a look at what all his buddies in school were fussing over. What he saw there—moms and dads with their little kids in hand, oohing and ahhing over the adorable sheep, goats, and even a bear—had twisted a knife of awareness in his gut. A family was something he’d never have for himself. With no mother in the picture and a bastard drunk for a dad, he didn’t stand a chance in this world.
A heavy sigh lived in his chest, but he didn’t release it. He held it close—he knew the burn well.
He slid his fingertips around the side of her breast. She wiggled closer, and he gave her nipple a soft flick. She giggled.
“You have a nice laugh, Kinsey.”
“Thank you.” She buried her face against his shoulder.
“I didn’t catch your last name.”
She laughed again. “You never asked. It’s Reynolds.”
His mind flew to a thick file back at the office. Slowly, he said, “Do you have any siblings I might have graduated with or know from back in the day?”
Please say no.
What were the chances of the Reynolds he knew, who’d jumped bail in Denver and had the hometown of Stokes, being unrelated?
“An older brother. He’s two years older. Trent. Do you know him?”
Goddammit.
“Yeah, I do.”
In his time as bail enforcement agent, he’d come across more than one name he recognized. In fact, months before he’d hunted a fugitive all the way to Stokes, only to find the guy working with some other fuck-ups responsible for stealing horses from his own damn family. A small world didn’t begin to describe Asher’s experience—and now he’d slept with the sister of the guy he’d just hauled in, what…a week before?
Trent Reynolds, wanted for possession of an illegal substance as well as theft.
The guy might have only been looking at serving months in the slammer, but then he’d gone off and added vehicular homicide and hit and run to his list of crimes. Did Kinsey know those things? Maybe they were estranged—she didn’t sound like a sister embarrassed by her big brother’s actions.
Either way, Asher couldn’t stick around. He’d learned his lesson the hard way once before after sleeping with a fugitive’s daughter. The few nights he’d spent in her bed did not equate to the hell that came later from tearing himself free of her—or the shit he got from his boss over it.
All this happened in a blink in his mind, and Kinsey still curled against him, soft and warm and sweet. Damn if he wanted to leave her bed—he was tired of running too. It might be nice to sleep with a woman in his arms for once.
No. He had to get up.
He patted her hip. “I’ve gotta go. And so do you, before Kelly finds you broke into her apartment over the garage to have sex.”
Kinsey laughed. “The door wasn’t locked, and I think Kelly will forgive me.”
He disentangled himself from her and stood up. While he pulled on his underwear, socks, and jeans, he threw looks at the woman he’d just fucked. He’d fuck her again, given the chance. But he couldn’t, not knowing who she was. How long before she discovered his connection with her brother?
She picked up her shredded thong and gave a light shake of her head. “These aren’t going back on.”
He threw her a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”
She met his gaze. “I don’t think you’re really sorry.”
“You’re right—I just said that to smooth things over.”
Another giggle erupted from her, and he knew she enjoyed him, because she hadn’t been at the party long enough to drink any alcohol. She pulled her dress down over her body, and his gut clenched at the sexy sight of her again.
Hell, he had to get out of this place before he threw her down on the mattress once more and tossed her ankles over his shoulders. He drew his shirt over his abs and faced her. In the dim light, she looked more beautiful than ever, freshly fucked, disheveled…unraveled by him.
“Maybe I’ll see you around, Asher,” she said.
“Yeah. Take care of yourself, Kinsey.”
He made a beeline out of the garage and back to his car. While he’d been in Stokes for two days now, he had yet to go home to the ranch. Last time he’d stirred up some trouble with his brothers in order to get back those stolen horses, and he didn’t relish more of the same. But T-R-O-U-B-L-E was stamped on the Moons’ DNA, and there was no escape when it flared up.
Pointing the car toward the mountain, he thought of how many nights he’d lain awake in his bed, staring out the window at that mountain and wondering what-if. Too many what-ifs led nowhere, and his life hadn’t gotten started until the day he drove out of Stokes. But the idea of returning to Denver gave him a case of hives. He couldn’t go back to his job anytime soon, either.
Pretty soon he found himself driving under the arching sign of the Moon Ranch. Fucking great. Fucking home.
* * * * *
Kinsey ran a brush through her still-damp hair and then smoothed it back into a ponytail. At first glance, she looked like she did every other day she went to work. The tan cotton button-up shirt sporting her game warden patch on the sleeve, khaki pants and ponytail, sometimes covered by a hat depending on the season.
But she wasn’t the same woman she was the previous day.
Beneath her clothes she bore red marks, covering the tops of her breasts and down her belly, from Asher’s delicious, rough beard. Her inner thighs sported a few pink markings as well, and just seeing them when she stripped to get into the shower worked her up all over again.
Then she’d seen the sucker bite on her belly, just above her mound. She hardly remembered him placing it there, but seeing it now left her a little too hot and her nipples a little too peaked.
She set aside her brush, resisting a shiver of delight at the memories coursing through her mind. Hooking up with a gorgeous guy at a party in her first ever one-night stand went down in the record books as the most reckless thing she’d ever done—and the hottest too.
So far, she hadn’t gotten any texts from Kelly questioning where she’d gone and who she’d left the party with, but then again, her friend would still be hung over from celebrating her thirtieth.
As soon as she walked out of the bathroom and strapped her belt on with the tools and gadgets she needed to work, she received an incoming call. Her heart gave a leap at the possibility that it could be Asher. Then she realized they hadn’t exchanged phone numbers, because they were a one-night stand.
The number belonged to her partner. “Branson. It’s early. What’s going on?”
“Just got a call that a rancher found a downed steer that looks to have been attacked.”
“Bear?”
“Dunno yet. That’s why I’m calling you, Puffy.”
She smiled at his nickname, which began after she showed up in a puffer jacket during the winter months. “I’m on my way out the door right now. Meet you at the office in five.”
They ended th
e call and her mind switched gears from the private pleasures she’d shared with Asher to work mode. Animal attacks weren’t all that uncommon in the mountainous areas of Colorado, and the ranchers saw their share of losses.
When she eased behind the wheel of her Jeep, she focused on the list of possible predators. Bear and coyotes sat at the top of the list. She and Branson had been seeing more and more signs of coyotes while making their usual rounds of hunting roads or hiking trails, as well as near waterways.
The buzz of her phone roused her from her mental investigation, and she pressed a button on her steering wheel to hook up the call to her speakers.
“Kinsey! Okay, spill it, girl.”
“Hi, Kelly.” She turned off of her street into the main road running through Stokes. Saturday mornings here meant tourists and visitors coming to enjoy the recreation of the mountain and quaint shops the town had to offer.
“Don’t ‘hi, Kelly’ me. I have no fewer than three sources who noted you leaving the party with Asher Moon last night.”
“I thought you’d be too hung over this morning to care.”
“Never, baby! Not when the news is as important as you leaving a party with the hottest man in Stokes! Besides his two brothers, that is, but they’re both taken.”
“We just went outside for a breath of air.” And I’ve got the marks to prove it.
“Sure you did. I know you’re on your way to work right now, so I’ll let you go. But don’t think you’re getting out of telling me all the gritty details about Asher.”
“No idea what you’re talking about, Kelly. Bye!” After she hung up, she found a stupid smile lingering on her face.
The rest of her drive, she replayed Asher’s touch on her body. Every memory caused her skin to lift in goosebumps. No way would she share everything with her friend—the dirty-hot sex felt far too personal to Kinsey. Maybe she just wasn’t the kiss-and-tell type. Or the one-night stand type.
She pulled into the game commission office and guided her Jeep into a space next to Branson’s truck. As she climbed out, he exited the office, stretching his long legs to reach her quicker.
“C’mon, we got two investigations this morning.” He brushed by her on the way to his truck.
“What? You got another call within five minutes?”
“Yep. Dog attacked up on Little Pass Road.”
“Damn. Let’s go.” She climbed into his truck, and he backed out. When they hit the road pointed toward the ranch where the steer had been lost, Kinsey said, “Give me the details.”
“How ’bout you give me the details of your night with Moon?”
God, did everybody in Stokes know?
“You weren’t at that party. What do you know about it?”
Branson Cody was a huge guy, broad and strong, but also a nerd. He grinned and pushed his glasses up his nose. “No, I wasn’t there, but my little sister was.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
He cocked a brow at her. “Nothing?”
Dipping her head, she avoided that snide grin on his face. “Tell me about the attacks. What did the rancher find?”
Thankfully, Branson dropped the interrogation and turned all business. They discussed the details on the drive, including the fact that the steer had been recently treated with antibiotics. A sick steer taken down by predators made a lot more sense to Kinsey than a healthy one, which animals would never attack.
When they pulled into the long dirt road leading to the ranch, she knew right away this rancher would feel the blow of losing one of his animals. With prices up on beef, he’d take a big hit to the wallet, and judging by the rundown buildings on the property, money was an issue.
“Pull in here,” she told Branson.
“Always bossy.”
“You must like it—you always ask to partner with me. You can go with Jimbo any time you’d like.” She shot him a grin and clambered out as the rancher decked out in hat and a Carhartt jacket approached. She moved forward to shake hands with him, and Branson did the same.
“Where’s the animal at?” Branson asked.
“Back field. Found him this mornin’.”
“Can we have a look?” Kinsey learned early in her career that politeness and respect came first in dealing with those who sought the game wardens’ help or broke the laws. Conversational tones usually calmed people down too, and she hoped that was the case with this old rancher, whose face and neck mottled red.
“Sure thing.” They took off walking through the field. She centered her attention on the ground. “The field seems to drain well. That means we’ll have trouble seeing tracks.”
“Yeah, doesn’t hold no water,” the rancher responded.
“Rain’s held off the past week or so, too. Not much chance of finding animal tracks to go by.” Being shorter than Branson or the rancher, she quickened her pace to keep up with them. In the distance, she spotted the hump of the downed steer.
As they neared, she and Branson both turned their gazes to the ground. She didn’t see much more than some trampled grasses and a few deeper cuts into the earth put there by heavy cattle. Inspecting the animal took longer. Determining how long it had been dead was crucial in telling them what time of day the predator roamed.
“Let’s turn it over. I’d like a look at the other side of the neck. See if it sustained bites or claw marks there as well,” she said.
Working together to turn the bulk of its body over required muscle power. And she definitely felt the effects of her encounter with Asher. Her inner thigh muscles and even her backside made her remember far too well what sort of demands the sexy man made on her body.
Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she turned her attention to the animal hide. She poked her finger into a puncture and then looked up at Branson. “What do you think? Too small for a bear claw. And if it was actually sick, like the rancher says…”
“Yeah, I’m leanin’ toward coyotes.” Branson looked to the rancher. “You hear any howling or anything? You keep chickens?”
“Wife’s got some chickens, but we haven’t lost any. I haven’t heard any coyotes but that don’t mean some haven’t moved in.”
“That’s true.” Kinsey pushed out of her crouched position and shook her head at the sad waste of a good steer. “We’ll have a look around your property for any sign of tracks or a den, if you don’t mind.”
“’Course not.”
Branson tipped his cowboy hat to the man, and they took off toward the tree line. After ten minutes of searching, Branson gave her a look.
“Did you find something?”
“No. I was just wondering if you’re gonna tell me about sleeping with Moon.”
She blinked. “What do you care anyway?”
“I don’t. But it’s mighty curious that I’ve worked with you for over a year now and never knew you to hook up with a guy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I was beginning to think you sway toward the other gender.”
She laughed. “No, that’s not it.”
“But you don’t date, even though I know guys ask you out.”
She raised a brow. “How do you know that?”
“You turned down one o’ my buddies a while back.”
Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t know who it could be.”
“That’s the point, Puffy. You don’t care about guys. So how did you hook up with Moon?”
Turning away, she examined a trail through the trees probably cut there by deer, but other animals were known to travel such paths.
She wasn’t prepared to answer questions about her night with Asher. Hell, she didn’t know how it even happened. She’d only gone to Kelly’s party to celebrate with a good friend. Next thing she knew, her legs were around Asher’s ears and his cock buried ten inches deep in her.
God, those ten inches.
Not that she’d whipped out a measuring tape, but she had a rough idea of the length of her hand from palm to middle fi
ngertip and his erection far surpassed that.
“Why ya blushin’, Kinsey?” Branson’s voice interrupted her train of thought—thank God. She didn’t need to spend more time thinking about Asher or their mind-blowing sex.
“Shut it, Branson. Here. Look at this.” She squatted and hovered a finger over a rounded depression in the soil. “Could be a coyote track.”
“Yeah, too bad it’s not more of the foot. Might be the rancher’s dog too, out wanderin’ the woods.”
“Possible, but this trail leads right out to the field. Deer travel it and probably spend their nights grazing on the same grass the cattle do. Wouldn’t take much for coyotes to head down the trail too.”
“I’m pretty sure we’re lookin’ at coyotes too.” He cocked his head. “Hear that? Water.”
They picked their way through the woods farther until they reached a small creek snaking through the land. Ferns and other vegetation grew thick on the banks, and after following the creek for a ways, they spotted the coyote tracks at the same time.
Staring at the ground, she nodded. “Oh yeah. Definitely a pack around here.”
“Where’s the house with the dog attack from here?” She looked south.
“Probably a short run from here, if you’re a coyote.”
“Not unusual at this time of year for them to hunt on this side of the mountain.”
“True. But word gets out about these attacks and we’ll be dealing with calls nonstop. People will want to know how to protect their cattle and pets.”
“We’ll deal with that when the time comes. Okay, I’ve seen enough here to make a statement to the rancher. What about you?”
He nodded, and they made their way back. The rancher crossed the field to meet them, and they stood talking about their findings.
“Need any help disposing of your steer, sir?” she asked him.
“Nah. I’ll get my boy to help.”
“All right. We’re done here for now, but give us a call if you see any coyotes. We’d like to know where they’re traveling.” Branson tugged the brim of his hat.
“Sorry about the hit you just took to your herd. Always affects the bottom line.”
He gave a gruff nod. “Sure does. I appreciate you coming out.”