Love to the Rescue: Steamy Small Town Romance (Officers to Love Book 2)

by Marie Carnay

  What animal would go bounding through that icy water to get to her?

  If she could get the right shot…A grizzly in the water. Dollar signs filled her imagination. Keira stepped toward it, crouching in the low waves at the edge of the current. Click.

  Of all the opportunities she thought she’d have on this trip, photographing a grizzly up close wasn’t one of them. This was way better than staying home with reruns of Sex in the City. She inched into the water, leaning over to capture the best light.

  She wasn’t sure if she’d get another chance like this during her trip, and she intended to take full advantage of it. Another fifty shots later and she’d lost herself in the moment. The beauty and majesty of the bear and the raging river. It was magical.

  A noise behind her startled both her and the bear. It’s giant head swung in her direction. Fear shot down her spine. It couldn’t be another grizzly, could it? She whipped around and threw her arms out as the ground gave way beneath her feet. She’d been at the water’s edge and hadn’t known.

  The rocks, wet with water and slick with algae, spelled disaster. She was falling.

  She cried out as her body lurched to the side.

  Please don’t let me land in the water.

  Too late. Frigid water enveloped her body, wrapping its icy fingers around her and dragging her into the current. Her body convulsed, her head hit something hard and sharp, and the water yanked her backward. The water washed over her face and the world went dark.

  3

  It was a rookie mistake. If you’re trying to go undetected in the woods, you don’t step on random sticks or kick rocks on the trail. Grant knew that, and yet when he saw the woman standing boldly on the shore with her camera pointed at the grizzly bear as if she didn’t have a care in the world, he’d forgotten standard protocol.

  The only thing on his mind was getting that woman away from the bear as quickly as possible. He’d meant to get close enough to talk to her without alarming the bear, but then he’d stepped on that damn twig and all hell had broken loose. The bear roared, she spun around, and...horror.

  Her body landed in the water, head bobbing up and down as the rushing waves washed over her and dragged her downstream. Shit!

  Grant rushed to the riverbank, but the water had already swept Keira past him. She wasn’t trying to swim. No! He tore off his jacket and backpack and moved as swiftly as he could, tracking the red flannel of her shirt in the water even as he crashed into the river. He dove in and came up gasping from the cold.

  The current catapulted him downstream, his body a buoyant vessel, rocketing toward the bend downstream. Grant knew the falls well. His family had a cabin less than a mile away. He’d grown up hearing the stories.

  That section of the river was deadly. It was teeming with rapids and skull-crushing boulders. If he didn’t reach Keira, if he couldn’t pull her out of the water before they reached the bend…

  He didn’t have a choice. He kicked in the current and scanned the water for her brown hair or a flailing hand. Anything. There! Red flannel twenty feet ahead. He kicked and lunged. Ten feet. He swam harder, putting every one of his muscles into action. His toes grew numb, his lungs ached and he closed the gap as the river grew choppy. The falls.

  Reaching out, he found shirt. Thank God. He gripped tight and dragged her towards him. Her limp body bent around his arm and he hugged her against his chest. Swimming against the current, he yanked and tugged with all his might until his feet hit ground. He scrambled onto the shore, gasping for air and chilled to the bone.

  He dragged Keira’s body up the embankment, out of the waves and onto the soft tundra. She slumped against it, lips blue, face pale.

  No! He turned her head to the side. Cough. Breathe. Moan. Something. But there was no movement of her chest, no rise or fall as she struggled for air. Nothing.

  Kneeling in the cold sand, he opened the woman’s mouth and forced in a breath. He could sense resistance in her throat. He leaned over and palmed her chest, pumping quick and fast. Relentless. Please breathe. I need you to breathe. Again and again and again he pressed his hands in an even rhythm. One-two-three-four.

  At last, a choking, water-filled cough burst from her throat and Grant leaned back onto his heels. She moaned and blinked her eyes and he braced himself for her response. But instead of coming to, she rolled onto her side and passed out cold. Shit.

  Grant swept his eyes back toward where they had gone into the river. Too far. Even if he could manage to carry her back to the parking lot and his car, it would take him well over an hour. They were wet, cold, and she was unconscious. If hypothermia set in…Keira might not wake up at all.

  He needed to get both of them someplace warm and dry as fast as possible.

  The family cabin sat just South of the falls. It would be well provisioned and dry.

  He cradled her body against his chest and started the hike as shivers set in. Grant ran through the next steps in his mind.

  Get her dry, check for injuries, radio the station for help. His teeth clattered together and Keira shifted in his arms. Was she waking up? No. She nuzzled against his beating heart and Grant swallowed.

  Thinking of her as anything other than a rescued hiker was foolish. They weren’t even safe yet. But as he stared down and the thicket of lashes against her cheeks and the soft fall of her dark hair, he felt the stirrings of something he’d practically forgotten. Desire.

  Grant cursed himself and focused on the terrain. One step at a time, that’s all he could do. At last, the worn tin roof of the cabin came into view. The place wasn’t much—a small lumpy bed, a one-wall kitchen, and a postage stamp bathroom. But it should have some water left in the tank and if there was firewood, it would save Keira’s life.

  He set Keira’s limp body down on the front step and patted his pockets for the key. Shit. Everything was in the pocket of his jacket, which was upriver, next to his pack. He would need to go back for his gear, but if he had any luck, the spare key would still be hidden.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, Grant loped to the back of the cabin. His fingers dug into the dust and dirt on the window casing and as he scraped along the top, he found it. The key. He hustled back to the front, unlocked the door and swung it open. Just like he’d remembered.

  After picking Keira up, he eased through the door and deposited her on the bed. Still passed out. Damn. She needed out of those wet clothes, but they needed a fire. Grant set to work on the long-unused stove and the stack of firewood on the floor. The fire crackled to life and the cabin began to warm.

  He stripped down to his underwear and tugged the clothesline out of the metal reel on the wall. Not the first time a Wilcox had to dry his clothes there after a dunk in the river. He stood by the fire for a moment to let the warmth soak into his skin.

  When his hands stopped shaking, he turned to Keira. Her turn. Grant grabbed a blanket and a first aid kit from a cabinet on the wall and crouched at the edge of the cot.

  He brushed the hair away from her head and checked for cuts. Nothing major. The bruise on her forehead meant she would wake up with a nasty headache, maybe a concussion. But he’d seen worse. He paused as he considered what he was going to have to do next. She had to get naked.

  “Ma’am, my name is Officer Grant Wilcox.” His voice came out low and professional. She couldn’t hear him, but he felt compelled to say it anyway. “You are soaked, and it’s important that I get you out of these clothes as quickly as possible. I’m going to undress you now.”

  Ridiculous. He was acting like a teenage boy checking out a girl’s boobs for the first time. He needed to be acting like a Wildlife Trooper. Grant inhaled and reached for her boots. At least feet didn’t turn him on.

  The boots slipped off with a squish and he set them on the floor. Her socks landed in soggy piles next to them. Bright red polished toes greeted him and he looked away. Just get the job done.

  With his still-numb fingers, the buttons on her shirt proved challenging. Bu
t at last, he worked them loose. He slid the soaked flannel off her body, bracing for her to wake up and shriek. Other than a few soft murmurs, she didn’t move.

  He hung the shirt on the clothesline and turned back around. Oh, hell. There was no avoiding it now. Acres of pink skin. Breasts spilling out of a simple black bra. Keira Thomas was gorgeous.

  Get it together, Wilcox. He was supposed to be helping her, not eye fucking her. But he couldn’t help the fact that his gaze lingered on her breasts as they rose and fall with her breathing.

  He peeled his gaze away to focus on the button of her hiking pants. It slipped free and he grazed the soft skin of her stomach as he tugged her pants down her hips. Oh, God. Why me?

  The cute pair of boy shorts that hugged her hips might be his undoing. His cock twitched and he wished he’d kept his damn pants on. If he were lucky, there would be another pair in the cabinet. With a deep breath, Grant peeled her pants off the rest of the way before hanging them on the line. He tossed a blanket on top of her sexy body and exhaled in relief.

  Where was the emergency alcohol when he needed it?

  Grant turned away from Keira and kneeled in front of the cabinet. Please be there. Yes! A spare pair of jeans were tucked into the bottom shelf. A shirt would be nice, but the jeans would do.

  He pulled his boxers off and tugged the jeans on as quickly as possible. As soon as he’d zipped them up, he felt better. More trooper in control, less peeping tom.

  He checked on Keira again. Color had bloomed in her cheeks, her forehead was warm, and her breath had lost its jagged edge. She’d wake up soon and he could check her vitals. Once their clothes dried out, they could get the hell out of that too-tiny cabin and hike back to the parking lot and civilization.

  Grant left her and walked across the small space to the kitchen tucked into the back wall. He pulled out the CB radio and flicked it on.

  “Betsy? Come back.” He turned the volume to low.

  “That you, Grant?”

  “Yeah, I’m holed up in the family cabin near the falls. A hiker fell into the river, and I had to fish her out.”

  “Do you need assistance?” Betsy was all business.

  “I’ll keep you posted. She took a bump to the head, but I think she’ll be okay. I’ll call back as soon as she wakes up. Got to wait for our clothes to be a little less soggy before I can get her back to the station.”

  There was a short pause. “Ten-four.” He thought he heard a smile in Betsy’s voice and rolled his eyes. If anyone else was listening…He could hear Killian giving him hell already.

  “Exactly what did you do with my clothes?” A tiny, hoarse voice spoke up behind him.

  Whoops. He turned to find Keira awake and sitting up, a determined scowl on her face.

  4

  Water. Icy water wrapping around her body, tightening its grip on her neck. Keira thrashed and flailed, but she couldn’t shake it off.

  She twisted around and a blanket slid higher up her shoulders. Wait. What blanket? Her eyes popped open. I’m not in the river. As she blinked the room into focus, she frowned. Tiny cabin, awkward bed, soft blanket. She glanced down. And nothing but my underwear. Hold up. She bolted into a sitting position and tugged the burgundy wool around her shoulders.

  “Ten-four.” A woman’s voice echoed through her head and she looked up. A man. A shirtless, muscled, god of a man stood across the room holding a radio in his hand. She squinted. Short brown hair, day-old stubble.

  Did she know him?

  She clutched the blanket tighter to her chest.

  “Exactly what did you do with my clothes?” Of all the questions to ask, it seemed the most pertinent.

  The man spun around. Mmm. His front was even more impressive than his back. Strong arms, chiseled abs.

  “Good. You’re awake.” The throaty rumble of his voice sparked a memory.

  He flashed her a smile but all Keira could see were his eyes. Rich chocolate brown and so familiar…Keira blinked.

  “Did I meet you before?”

  The man put the radio receiver back and in a stride, he was leaning over the cot, one massive hand stuck out in the air. “Grant Wilcox. We ran into each other earlier.”

  She took his hand and the heat spreading up her arm flushed way more than her cheeks. “Keira Thomas…now I remember.”

  She blushed hotter and Grant pulled away. The loss had her swallowing back a protest. Ridiculous.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Confused? This is going to sound rude, but…how’d I get here?”

  He winced. “It’s not rude at all. You, um, fell in the river. I fished you out.”

  Her eyebrows knitted. “I don’t remember you. I was walking down the hill, taking pictures…” She shifted on the bed and tucked a leg beneath her. “Then I stopped at the edge of the water. There was the most spectacular bear. He came up to the river on the other side and I took his picture. And…”

  She trailed off and focused on the bed. If she shared anything more, he’d probably have her committed.

  “And what?”

  “It’s nothing. I must have dreamt it.”

  Grant crouched in front of her. “What do you remember?”

  “It’s going to sound crazy, but…I swore someone else was there…” She glanced up and the depth of Grant’s eyes caught her breath. “How’d you find me?” It came out in a hoarse whisper.

  “It was my fault you fell in. I saw you on the edge of the river and I tried to get your attention. All I ended up doing was scaring you and the bear.”

  He hung his head. “Not my best moment.”

  “But you saved me.”

  Instead of answering, he just stood up and walked back to the tiny kitchen. Odd. But then the whole day had been odd. She wouldn’t be surprised if the bear lumbered in and sat down next to her on the bed. Keira pulled the blanket around her and regarded her savior. Quiet. Strong. Sexy as sin. And he’d saved her life.

  She should be scared. Sitting in her underwear in a strange man’s cabin in the middle of the wilderness wasn’t the smartest move. Horror movies were made of less. But she wasn’t scared at all. Just like when the grizzly approached her, she felt calm. Right.

  What a photography expedition.

  “Oh my God.” The words slipped out and Keira covered her mouth with her hand. “Please tell me you found my camera.”

  Grant winced. “Sorry. I was more concerned about getting you out alive.”

  My camera. It was everything. All her income, her day-to-day life. It was all wrapped up in that black case and telephoto lens. She could file an insurance claim and use her backup at home. But the photos…every shot of the bear had been on the camera. Her stomach twisted and she balled her hand into a fist. Damn.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My camera had all the shots I’d taken of the grizzly. He was spectacular. Huge and powerful, but so gentle. I’ve never been that close to an animal so dangerous before.”

  “Were you scared?”

  “No. I guess I should’ve been.”

  He turned back to the kitchen and opened a cabinet above his head. “We haven’t stocked the place lately, but I can heat up some soup. You should eat something hot.”

  The thought of food sent a rumble through Keira’s belly. “That would be great. Thanks.”

  As Grant busied himself with the soup, Keira looked around the cabin. Their clothes hung up on a line beside the front door. Her boots and his were stacked next to each other by the fire. What looked like a bathroom peeked out from behind a door to the left. That was it.

  Before she knew it, Grant walked up and handed her a steaming bowl. “You should eat. You’re still cold. I can see you shiver from across the room.”

  She smiled and tucked the blanket tighter around her before taking the soup. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Grant sat on the floor a few feet away with his bowl in one hand.

  Do I stink that bad? Or is he being nice? She c
ouldn’t tell. But she could smell the soup, and it smelled delicious. With a shrug, she picked up the spoon and took a sip. Mmm. “Wow. Grant, this is really good.”

  “Thanks.”

  A few minutes later and Keira had to fight the urge to lick the bowl. “Was that just sitting around in the cupboard?”

  He nodded. “My mom probably canned it last summer. She owns a restaurant in town. This is the family cabin.”

  “You’re not a chef?”

  “Just a wildlife trooper, I’m afraid.”

  Keira paused. “What is that exactly?”

  Grant smiled. “I’m a cop for wild animals.”

  Wow. “So what do you do?”

  Grant sipped some soup before answering. “We split time between search and rescue and law enforcement. Half the time I’m out searching for poachers and illegal fishermen. The other half of the time I’m doing safety checks and patrols on the water. You wouldn’t believe some of the crazy boat set-ups I’ve seen. People do some dangerous stuff on the water here.”

  Like me. Keira forced herself not to smile. With arms built for MMA and a grin that said earned arrogance, Grant didn’t come across the good guy. But if he saved boaters and kept poachers from hurting the wildlife in Alaska, that’s exactly what he was.

  “Sounds like a tough job. Anyone ever threaten you?”

  Grant’s smiled faded. “Poachers can be desperate people. If someone’s just made the kill of a lifetime, they don’t want to give it up. And you wouldn’t believe the lengths some go to just to get a trophy—we’ve had people shoot from airplanes, 4x4s, you name it. All they think about is getting those moose antlers or grizzly pelt. They don’t think about the jail time until it’s too late.”

  Keira swallowed. She couldn’t imagine confronting a poacher out in the wilderness. Being on the wrong end of a rifle was somewhere she never wanted to be.

  Grant stood up and reached for her bowl. “Enough about me. Where’d you learn to be a photographer?”

  “School.”

  “Always into nature?”