Heroes in Uniform: Soldiers, SEALs, Spies, Rangers and Cops: Sexy Hot Contemporary Alpha Heroes From NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Authors

by Sharon Hamilton

“It's a big, lonely world out there,” Gary said, a trace of sadness coloring his tone. “Looks like you've found company for the trip, you lucky bastard.”

  “I hope so,” Coop said. “I really hope so.”

  Barely Dangerous: Chapter Ninety

  With a smirk, Coop slammed shut the back hatch of his camper as Maggie giggled irrepressibly. “Come here, you wanton.” He pulled her close, unable to decide whether to laugh, or wince in mortification.

  They were standing in the parking lot of a large department store in Redding, on their way back from Chico. He’d insisted they stop to buy a futon. He was not spending another night on that torture instrument she called a bed.

  “I'm sorry.” She grinned, unrepentant. “That salesman was just too easy to fluster.”

  “Did we really have to try out every bed in the place? The poor kid almost died of embarrassment.” He tipped his hat up and kissed her.

  “We had to be sure we’re getting the best one.”

  “Uh-huh.” He backed her up to the camper. “Now, about those ancient Indian sexual rites you were talking about researching...”

  She snickered. “Know any?”

  He pressed his body into hers. “I wish I did.”

  “No?”

  “Well...” He watched her tongue peek out and wet her lips. “You talking about Indian, or Indian?” He drew a finger down the front of her T-shirt, pausing on her beaded nipple.

  Two old ladies loaded with packages trotted past, clucking their tongues. Maggie clapped a hand over her mouth covering a laugh.

  Coop led her around to the passenger side and unlocked the door. “You are so bad.”

  Before she slid in, she put her hands on his chest and kissed him. Slowly, her expression turned serious. “Wolf...”

  He looked into her eyes and his heart constricted. Ah, hell. Here it comes. And things had been going so well. At least, he’d thought so.

  He tossed his hat onto the floor of the truck, and stabbed a hand through his hair. “What is it, pup?”

  She looked reluctantly up at him. “Wolf, are we getting ourselves in trouble, here?”

  He jingled the car keys in his hand. “Trouble?”

  He had really hoped her feelings ran as deeply as his did, despite the short time they’d known one another. True, that morning she had skirted the issue of him moving his belongings up to the tower by joking that all he'd need was a toothbrush. And when he had suggested buying the futon on the way back from Gary's, he'd had to talk her into it by saying he needed one for the camper, anyway.

  Now, he could tell the boom was about to fall.

  Damn.

  He braced himself for the impact, gripping the top of the open cab door, and fixed his eyes on the horizon over the roof. He was calm. He was very, very calm.

  And said, “You told me the day we met that trouble was your specialty.”

  She slipped her arms around his middle. He kept his where they were. Strands of their hair mingled in the hot Valley breeze as she leaned her cheek against his shoulder.

  “That's the whole problem,” she said softly. “I attract trouble. Those poachers are probably still after that battery. Too many people know I reported the bear to keep it a secret. It could be dangerous for you to be with me.”

  Seriously? That’s what she was going with?

  “If I'm any kind of a man,” he said evenly, “that would be even more reason for me to move in with you.” He looked down, preparing himself for the worst. “Now tell me what's really bothering you.”

  Barely Dangerous: Chapter Ninety-One

  Maggie's body trembled slightly against Coop's. She sighed against his neck, then looked at him pleadingly. But he wasn't inclined to cut her any slack. He wanted the whole, ugly truth. And he wanted it now, before he got any more emotionally involved than he already was.

  It had been a mistake mixing business with pleasure.

  A huge mistake.

  After a moment's silence, she said, “From the moment I met you, I could think of nothing else but how it would feel to lie in your arms. When I finally did, it was wonderful.” She smiled wistfully. “Better than wonderful. More like incredible.”

  Well, that was something, anyway.

  He waited for her to continue, knowing this wasn't what she had to say.

  “And now, after less than a day, we're buying a bed together and talking about you moving up to the tower.” She pulled back, and perched herself on the edge of the cab bench, gazing up at him. “You're about to solve this case. What happens then?”

  He loosened his grip on the door and leaned against the frame, regarding her. It seemed obvious to him that she was just begging for an excuse to back off their growing relationship.

  Sorry. He wasn't about to sink himself by opening his mouth and giving her the ammunition she needed.

  The silence stretched out.

  She cleared her throat. “Okay, I'll tell you what happens. You'll go back to Sacramento and your undercover job, and in a few—” She toed the camper door with her boot. “And soon, I have to go back to L.A.. To...my job and everything. What we're doing here...it scares me. I'm just afraid we're setting ourselves up for disaster. The future— I just wish—” She shook her head, sighing deeply.

  What was this about her going back to L.A.? It was only August. The fire season lasted at least another month. Was this about that Dinny character? About his, “See you soon”...?

  Coop studied her for a long minute, trying to decide what strategy to take.

  He wanted her. He'd fight to keep her.

  He'd fight dirty if he had to.

  Squatting in front of her, he squelched the urge to crush her in his arms and kiss away her doubts. Physical persuasion would solve nothing. He needed to use cool logic and calm cunning.

  “In the Cree hunting dreams I told you about,” he said, “a man asks for a dream to come and tell him what kind of animal he will kill the next day, and where to find it. Maybe what weapon he should use to please the animal. The hunter wants to see into the future before he ventures out.”

  She was watching him carefully, the look on her face halfway between hope and misery.

  He wanted to tip the scales toward hope. “Think of the dreams that were sent to you, little pup. You found your dreams—they came true.”

  He rose to his full height, crossed his arms, and gazed down at her, trying to look every inch the Cree warrior. “The Owner placed you in my arms and said you should give yourself up to me. Would you ignore his command?”

  Her mouth fell open, but no words came out.

  Pressing home his advantage, he reached down and stroked her cheek. “And what about the Messenger that came to us as we lay together, still joined for the very first time? That was a powerful sign.”

  “You're not playing fair,” she protested weakly. “You know I'm just superstitious enough to fall for that stuff.” She straightened her back and took a deep breath. “But we're in California, not the Hudson Bay, and this isn't the Stone Age.”

  “Be glad of that, woman,” he said, an edge creeping into his voice. Why was she fighting him, unless she wanted to keep her distance? “In another time and place those things alone would bind you to me for life.”

  She scowled. “You mean I'd be your slave?”

  “Worse,” he growled, and leaned into the cab, hovering above her, deciding just how far he should push her. “You'd be forced to be my wife.” Scooting her farther into the cab, he dropped on top of her, pinning her onto the bench seat. “There would be no question about whether to move in with you or share a bed.” He let his hands rove over her. “You would do as I say, and I would do as I pleased.”

  A glower replaced the shock on her face. “You are a freaking Neanderthal!” She pushed at his chest, struggling to sit up, but he held her firm.

  Good. If he got her angry, raised those ready passions, she'd forget about leaving him. For the moment, anyway. He mocked a deep sigh. “I wish.” His hands sough
t her breasts under her T-shirt, and he looked at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “But since it's not the Stone Age anymore, I guess the Wolf will have to find other means to keep his mate willingly in his lair.” He fondled her silken breasts and put his mouth over the peak of one, licking and sucking it through the thin cotton of her top.

  “Wolf!” she said, breaking down and squirming in what he knew was pleasure. She tried to still his hands. “Those old ladies will have us arrested!”

  He blew a stream of air at the wet spot over her nipple and smiled in satisfaction when it tightened to a hard point. Okay, physical persuasion worked, too.

  He caught her gaze, serious once more. “I don't know what the future holds any more than you do, pup.” He ran a lazy thumb over her nipple. “All I know is, right now I want to be with you. Do you want to be with me?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. “Yes.”

  “Then let's just take it a day at a time, and see what happens. Okay?”

  And he'd use each day to convince her to stay.

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  He swallowed past the lump of relief lodged in his throat, and kissed her tenderly to seal the agreement.

  Barely Dangerous: Chapter Ninety-Two

  Maggie leaned back in her chair and watched Wolf move about her kitchen, his movements smooth and certain. He had shed his shirt, and in the early evening heat, his boots and socks, too. Her eyes followed the rippling of the muscles in his arms and shoulders as he spread mayo and mustard on dark bread.

  She had risked breaking her own heart by telling him he shouldn't stay with her. But he'd surely finished the job by refusing to speak when she'd asked about their future together.

  Obviously, he wasn't planning on their having one.

  Let's just take it a day at a time,

  Which was...a good thing, right? Considering her own situation. She might not even have a future.

  And hadn’t she been the one trying to push him away in the first place?

  Well, at least she could enjoy him as long as she had him.

  “I love watching a man cook,” she murmured.

  He hiked an amused eyebrow over his shoulder. “You're an easy woman to please.” He pulled a couple of sweet pickle chips out of a jar.

  “Depends on who's doing the pleasing,” she said, caressing him with a look. Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could turn his lust into love, and he'd ask her to come back to Sacramento with him for a while.

  After Whitney went to jail.

  If Whitney went to jail.

  Cooper turned and propped himself against the counter, dropping turkey slices onto the bread. “Keep looking at me like that, and this fancy gourmet meal might just get cold.”

  She regarded him, smoldering with a growing hunger. And it wasn't for dinner. “It just so happens, I like cold turkey sandwiches.”

  He took a step away from the counter, only to be stopped in his tracks by a piercing buzz from his cell phone on the table.

  She jumped. Damn it! How did he have bars up here? She really needed to change cell providers.

  He gave her a searching look, and leaned back against the Formica. “That'll be for you.”

  She stared at him blankly. “Me? Who would be calling me on your phone?”

  “Just a feeling,” he said, then added with a smile, “And mind your manners if it's my mother.”

  She snorted. “Your mother. I am sure.” She picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  There was a silence on the other end, and she barely resisted blurting out something witty like, “The Wolf's Lair, can I help you?” because it was probably Jack. But Coop's last comment had rattled her just enough to curb her tongue.

  “Anyone there?” she ventured.

  A soft, feminine voice said, “Yes. Forgive me, I wasn't expecting a woman to answer.”

  Visions of long, brunette curls on the other end slithered through Maggie’s mind.

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” she said, impaling Cooper with narrowed eyes. “Hang on. I'll put him on.”

  “Oh, you didn't disappoint me,” the woman quickly said. “On the contrary, after thirty-one years without a single woman answering the phone, I was beginning to worry.”

  Maggie bit back a surprised exclamation, and glanced desperately at Cooper, who just stood there with an enigmatic curve to his lips. “Oh,” she managed, finally.

  “I'm Marie-Claire, Coop's mother.”

  “Hi,” Maggie said, totally undone. “I'm Maggie Johansen.”

  There was a pause. “Coop's...?” Marie-Claire prodded.

  Maggie swallowed, and looked at him as he casually rested his butt against her counter. Friend? Lover? Sex slave? She panicked, having no idea what she did mean to him.

  “Neighbor,” she settled on.

  Wolf shot her a look that had “you are a big, fat wimp” written all over it.

  “We're working on a case together,” she added. “Sort of.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “Oh, I see,” Marie-Claire said with interest. “This case, it wouldn't have anything to do with bears, would it?”

  Maggie’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “How on earth did you know?”

  “I've been having bear dreams for a few days now,” his mother said matter-of-factly. “Last night Memekwesiw told me he had given my son a woman. That would be you, non?

  Maggie's eyes widened in consternation. “Mrs. Cooper, I don't think—” How on earth did she know about her and Wolf? What kind of a relationship did she think they had? And who the hell was this Memekwesiw guy?

  “Please, call me Marie. But, hmm. Maggie... What does that stand for?”

  “Eugenie Margarethe,” she muttered, to Cooper's rocketing brows.

  “Heavens, that is a mouthful. Okay. Maggie, it is. Well, cherie, when is my son bringing you home to meet us?”

  Maggie’s panic returned with a vengeance. She turned to the window and looked out over the forest below. How could she tell Cooper's mother that she wasn't even sure she'd be with him next week? Misery sliced through her to think she'd have to disappear, and might never meet this wonderfully soft-spoken woman.

  Then again, who said Cooper even wanted to introduce her to his family?

  Before she burst into tears, she deflected the question. “If he brings me to meet you, will I meet this Memekwesiw, too?”

  Cooper choked on a bite of turkey sandwich. On his face, horror battled with amusement.

  There was an audible pause on the phone, then Marie said, “I believe you are already acquainted. My dear, please see to it that Blue Wolf brings you around soon, won't you? I'm looking forward to seeing the woman he has chosen...to let answer his phone.”

  “I—” Maggie felt like she was being swept along by events over which she had no control. She looked at Cooper who stood watching her, his eyes sparkling and filled with humor. She knew that if she could be with this man, she wouldn't mind being swept to the ends of the earth. She just wished he felt the same about her. “Thank you. I'm looking forward to meeting you, too, Marie.”

  Cooper took the phone, and after he had finished talking with his mother, he fetched his sandwich and came over to join Maggie at the table, chuckling richly.

  “Sorry. That wasn't fair of me. I just couldn't resist. Eugenie Margarethe? Holy shit.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him. “You were expecting her call, weren't you, you jerk.”

  He grinned through his lettuce. “In a way. I had a feeling it might be her. She's probably been calling all day because of the dreams.” At Maggie’s accusing look, he said, “Sometimes it seems like she knows I've done things even before I do them.”

  “Must have been tough as a teenager,” she muttered.

  He grinned. “I did most of my rabble-rousing during my summers in Canada. So, even if she knew, there was no way she could do anything about it.” He laughed devilishly. “No phone within fifty miles.”

  “Yeah. Dinny mentioned your rab
ble-rousing on Hudson Bay.”

  Shooting her a glance, he set his sandwich down and leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs. “Did he, now? And what, exactly, did the very Special Agent Paxton have to say about my days in Canada?”

  She squirmed under his hard-edged scrutiny. “Just that you might be a terrorist. But of course, you're not.” She bit her lip. “Are you?”

  With a cut-off sigh, he took his wallet out of his jeans pocket and fished out a creased and ragged photo. In the picture, two Cree youths holding spears posed grinning behind a large dead bear lying in the snow. The two boys looked around the same age, and enough alike to be brothers. Their hair was long, wild, and unkempt, and they were dressed in old, well-used clothes and parkas. There was an air of friendship, affection, and conspiracy surrounding them.

  “That's me and my cousin Bernard up north, at the camp of our grandfather, Jimmy Blue Wolf. Bernie'd just killed his first bear.” Cooper smiled and fingered the bear claw necklace that hung around his neck.

  “That was back in junior high—one of the years I went up for spring break.” He gazed at the photo, but she knew he was seeing something else, from long ago. “The band used to spend all nine winter months out in the bush at hunting camps. I always felt I missed out on the most essential part of being Cree because I'd never gotten to go with them.” He toyed with the lettuce on his plate. “My parents thought school was more important.”

  “That must have been hard,” she murmured.

  “Later on, after I'd graduated from college, I lived with Nimosom for over two years. But by then, things had changed.” She saw the sadness in his eyes as he replaced the photo in his wallet.

  “Where are they now?”

  “Nimosom is living with my parents in San Francisco. Bernie's in and out of jail.” Cooper got up and put a kettle of water on to boil as he spoke. “A while back, he got involved with a radical Indian rights group that's opposed to all the hydro-electric dams they're building in Quebec, flooding our band's traplines. He helped blow up one of them.”

  She stilled in surprise. “Your cousin?”