by Kaylea Cross
She couldn’t wipe the grin off her face as he came toward them, and stepped forward to hug him when he got close. “Hey, it’s so good to see you.”
He dropped the duffel. Then, to her surprise, he wrapped his arms all the way around her, lifting her off the ground as he hugged her in return. “You too,” he said, his deep voice and the faint, woodsy scent of his cologne making her senses go haywire. He had a disconcerting way of making her feel like a teenage girl with a raging, painful crush.
But just for a moment, Tala allowed herself to close her eyes and cling, absorbing the feel of his embrace. Soaking up the honesty of the rare display of affection from him. As if he’d missed her so much that he couldn’t help himself.
A rush of complex, tangled memories and emotions hit her.
He’d been there for her during the worst day of her life. Had literally helped save her life, and then cheered her on during the long and grueling recovery process that followed. Including when she’d done a stint in San Antonio at the Center for the Intrepid, because Canada was unable to provide that level of care for its amputee veterans. Braxton had sent a big bouquet of gerbera daisies and checked in with her whenever he could.
He was remote and hard to read, but his usual cool demeanor always seemed to melt away for her. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean what she wished it did. He only saw her as a friend, nothing more.
Braxton released her and turned to grin at Mason. “Hey, man.”
“Get in here, brother,” Mason said, grabbing him in a tight, back-slapping thing men considered to be a hug. “Flights good?”
“Got me here in one piece, so can’t complain.” Braxton finally turned to Rylee, who was standing off to the side a little. “Hey, kid.”
“Hi.” She held out a hand. “Nice to see you again.”
His eyes warmed, the touch of a smile playing at the edges of his incredibly sexy mouth. “You too.” He shook it, his expression turning to surprise when Rylee stepped in to hug him. He returned it, but gently, as if he was secretly afraid of breaking her. “You been behaving yourself at college?”
“Mostly. It was a pretty traumatic start to my first year, though.”
“I heard that. Glad you and Nina are both okay.”
Tala wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. Tate’s fiancée and Rylee had both been targeted by a dirty cop preying on women at the University of Montana. They were both lucky to be alive. Rylee’s former roommate hadn’t been so lucky.
“You ready to get outta here?” Mason asked.
“Good to go.” Braxton reached down for his duffel.
Out in the parking lot, Tala got into the back of Mason’s Jeep with Rylee, allowing Braxton to ride shotgun and give his long legs more room up front. Ricochet hopped on the seat between her and Rylee, his tail and rump wiggling like mad as he stuck his head between the front seats to greet Braxton.
“Ric, my man. How’s it going, buddy?” Braxton ruffled his fluffy ears affectionately.
Ric was practically vibrating in excitement, his front paws dancing on the armrest in his ecstasy. “Still totally neglected and unloved, I see,” Braxton commented dryly.
“So neglected,” Mason answered, and started the engine. “My furry wingman.”
Braxton turned his head to look at her and Rylee. “You guys been hanging out together for the entire holiday so far?”
“Rylee and I are both staying at Tate’s,” Tala answered. “But we see Mason and Avery pretty much every day.”
“That’s because we like you,” Mason said as he turned onto the main road leaving the airport.
“And it’s got nothing whatsoever to do with Uncle Tate and Avery being work partners,” Rylee said in a dry voice. “Or that you guys are trying to organize your business, so you need to get together all the time.”
“Nope,” Mason said. “Only because we like you guys.”
“Did you have a good Christmas?” Tala asked Braxton as they drove toward the highway.
His slight grin disappeared, like the sun vanishing behind the clouds, and she was suddenly sorry she’d asked. He never said much about his family, and she’d never pressed him about it. “It was okay. How was yours?”
“Good. We stayed up late Christmas Eve watching movies and eating all the treats Nina made us while she had a long video call with her whole family back in San Fran to celebrate with them. We slept in Christmas morning, then opened presents, and we all pitched in to get the turkey done on time for dinner. You’re gonna love her, by the way. And Avery, too.”
“I’m sure I will. What about your training? How’s that going?”
It meant a lot that he’d asked about her biathlon training. With Rylee gone, she purposely kept busy these days to stave off loneliness, working full time as a personal assistant, and training five days a week. Conditioning, strength training, skiing, shooting at the range. “Pretty well. Still have a lot of things to work on, but I’m trying hard.”
“Didn’t you have a competition a few weeks ago?”
“Yeah. I placed eighteenth out of twenty-two. So, better than last time, but still not where I need to be if I want to make the national masters team.” In the biathlon world, at thirty-four she was considered old. If she wanted a spot on the national squad, the masters category was her only shot.
“If you keep working as hard as you have been, you’ll get there.”
She wasn’t hard up in the self-esteem department when it came to her abilities, but that kind of unwavering support and belief from Braxton carried a hundred times more weight than it would have from anyone else. She was grateful that he didn’t see her dream as cute or amusing, and that he didn’t pity her.
Outside of her family, she generally didn’t give a shit what anyone else thought of her. But if Braxton felt sorry for her, it would crush her.
“If you’re up to it while you’re here, maybe you could help train me a bit,” she added. She wanted to get a few good workouts in during her holiday, to keep up her conditioning. She’d worked too hard to backslide now.
He met her gaze again. “What kind of training?”
“Shooting.” She’d started training for real in biathlon over a year ago after she’d tried an intro course and loved it. Her coach was amazing, but who better to get hands-on help from than a JTF2 sniper? And getting to spend quality time alone with Braxton was her idea of heaven. Even it was on a platonic level.
“Of course, but doesn’t Tate help you?” he asked, frowning slightly. “Or you?” he said to Mason. They’d served together in JTF2 for years, before Mason had been injured in a helicopter crash and forced to medically retire from the unit and then the military soon after. He’d done security contracting work with Tate for a while, then left that too.
“They’re both so busy these days,” she said before Mason could answer. “Tate’s doing double duty between his detective work and getting Rifle Creek Tactical up and running, and Mase is taking on everything Tate can’t right now. Plus, they’re both disgustingly, ga-ga in love right now, so I’m not going to drag them away from their better halves to help me fine tune my technique during the holidays.”
“Avery’s definitely my better half,” Mason agreed.
“No shit,” Brax deadpanned, then looked back at Tala. “Yeah, sure I’ll go with you.”
She hoped he hadn’t agreed because he felt obligated. He was tough to read, even for her sometimes. “Great. But you let me know how you feel later on. I don’t know what you guys have planned for the week. You’re here for nine days, right?”
“Technically eight. Then I need to report back to base in Ottawa. Heading back overseas a couple days after that.”
She nodded, fighting a wave of cold as his words dredged up unwelcome memories of heat and dust and blood. She could still smell it, still taste it as she’d lain there bleeding into the dirt. Therapy and constant effort on her part had helped with the worst of her PTSD, but loud noises could still trigger it, and she still had nig
htmares sometimes. “How long will you be gone this time?”
“Little under three months left on this contract.”
Are you going to get out after that? She bit the question back. It was a personal question, and he was the most private person she knew. But after this contract was done, he needed to decide whether he wanted out, or whether he wanted to re-up. And if he chose to continue, it was yet another reason why he wasn’t for her.
She’d sacrificed enough to the military already. She didn’t want to be in a relationship that forced her to give up even more, not even for him.
“You hear anything about your work visa yet?” Braxton asked Mason.
“Yep, mine came through last week. Big relief, because that was a major hurdle, and Avery and I getting married next year helps my case for getting a Green Card, too.”
“Good.” He glanced back at her. “Tate still nagging you about working for them?”
“He’s mentioned it a few times.” She was actually toying with the idea of working for their adventure ranch/training facility company—Rifle Creek Tactical—at least part of the year if her biathlon dreams didn’t pan out. Doing the same kind of thing she was now in her private sector day job, organizing everything and then keeping everyone on task.
“I told him I’d think about it, but of course, immigration is a huge issue since I don’t have dual citizenship like Tate does,” she continued. “I could probably do a lot of the work remotely if I wanted. I should know within the next four-to-six months or so if my biathlon career is going anywhere. I’ll have a better idea of where I’m at after that.”
“Guess you haven’t seen Tate’s place yet, have you?” Mason said to him.
“Just on video calls.”
“It’s a great house. And I hope you’re hungry,” Tala added, “because Nina’s been cooking for the past two days in anticipation of your arrival.”
His half-smile softened his whole face. “Looking forward to it. And to give them my congratulations in person.”
“That’s right, we’ve now got two weddings to celebrate next year,” Tala said, patting Mason’s shoulder. He and Avery had gotten engaged at Thanksgiving, and Tate had popped the question to Nina on Christmas Eve.
“You’re coming to my wedding, right?” Mason asked him.
Brax screwed up his face as though he was thinking hard. “When is it again?”
Mason punched him in the shoulder. “You know exactly when it is, asshole.”
“Refresh my memory,” he said, glancing at Tala with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“July third, so it’s right in between Canada Day and the Fourth of July.” He shot another look at Braxton. “You seriously forgot the date already?”
Braxton grinned. “No, of course not. I already put in a request for the time off. But you know I can’t promise anything.”
Mason nodded and took the turn for the highway that would lead them up into the mountains. “I know. But it means a lot that you’re trying.”
The mention of the weddings dimmed Tala’s mood a little. While she was thrilled for everyone involved, especially her brother, having two members of her inner circle get engaged so close together made her feel more alone than ever. Especially when the object of her secret fantasies was sitting right in front of her.
No, she told herself firmly. She had to stop dreaming about him and be realistic. Her true feelings for him didn’t matter, because she had zero chance with him. They lived in different worlds now, and besides, if and when she did risk getting into a relationship again, she wanted someone physically present and emotionally available.
Unfortunately, Braxton would never be either of those things.
Chapter Two
It had been way too long since Braxton had hung out with Mason. He hadn’t met Avery yet, but Braxton was thankful for her, because he hadn’t seen his best friend so much like his old self since before the helo crash that had nearly killed him and ended his military career several years ago.
But as great as seeing his buddy was, getting to hang out with Tala this week was even better. She was on his mind constantly and he’d missed her like hell.
“So this is Rifle Creek, huh?” he said as Mason drove them down Main Street.
“Yep, the heart of the town right here,” Mason answered. “As you can see, it’s a happening place.”
Brax grinned. “Looks like.” There were exactly three people out on this cold, late December evening, two of them walking a dog.
The town itself looked nice, though, like a Hallmark movie setting all done up for the holidays. Rows of neat brick and timber buildings lined the town center, shops and restaurants and small businesses all decorated with wreaths and strands of lights that sparkled on the few inches of snow on the ground and rooftops.
“You like quiet anyway,” Tala said from the backseat.
He could smell the faint scent of her perfume. Something light and sweet that teased his senses. It had been a long time since he’d seen her in person. Too long. He’d missed her, and all his senses were focused on how close she was now. Close enough to touch, yet still out of reach, no matter how he wished things could be different.
He inclined his head. “I do.” He was introverted and liked his own company, a big plus considering his job meant spending a lot of time alone or with just a handful of others in dangerous, forward areas. But he’d make an exception for his buddies, and Tala. She was one of the few people he felt at ease with and could really be himself around.
Tala and Rylee were quiet as Mason chatted away, pointing out various places they passed, including a haunted restaurant called Poultrygeist that served the best chicken in town. Braxton wanted to check it out while he was here.
As soon as they got beyond the town center, things got even quieter. The houses began to thin out, the lot sizes becoming increasingly larger away from town, some with wooded areas in between.
“So now we’re technically out in the country,” Mason announced a few minutes later as he made a left turn into another residential neighborhood full of what mostly looked like well-kept historic homes. “Tate’s place is just near the end of this road.”
The sun had set almost an hour ago now, leaving the twilit sky stained purple and studded with bright stars. The beam of the Jeep’s headlights illuminated the snowy street ahead, making the crystals sparkle. On either side of the road, the houses were all lit up with holiday lights, some of the windows aglow with lamplight.
Something stepped out into the middle of the road ahead of them and Mason automatically hit the brakes. “Is that Reggie?” he said.
Braxton was aware of both Tala and Rylee leaning forward between him and Mason to stare out the windshield with him, and of the scent of Tala’s perfume intensifying. “It’s a goat,” Braxton said, for a moment wondering if the jetlag was making him see things. But no, that was definitely a goat, and he was pretty sure it was— “Wearing a…Santa hat.” What the hell?
The animal stood in the middle of the road, either too stupid to move or defiantly standing its ground against the Jeep, Braxton wasn’t sure. “Oh, Reggie. Stop him, Mase, and I’ll take him home,” Tala said.
Before Braxton could make sense of what was happening, Mason leaned on the horn.
The goat jerked once, its unblinking gaze fixed on the Jeep, then keeled over there in the middle of the street.
“Oh, shit,” Brax muttered, pretty sure that Mason had just killed someone’s pet.
“No, he’s fine,” Tala said, and jumped out.
He didn’t look fine.
Brax hopped out after her, zipping up his jacket against the biting cold and hurried after Tala, wanting to help. The goat was still lying there like road kill, its stiffened legs sticking straight out as if it was frozen solid.
“Reggie, you bad boy,” Tala said as she neared it, her chocolate-brown waves flowing down her back. He’d imagined stroking his fingers through them so many times before kissing her, of fisting them in
his hands while he buried himself inside her and she cried out his name. “How did you get out of the yard again?”
The goat seemed to be starting to recover. Moving around a little and weakly trying to get to its feet. But when Tala got close it jerked again and toppled over.
Jeez, maybe it had epilepsy. “Need a hand?” he asked Tala.
“Sure, if you don’t mind carrying him.” She moved out of the way.
Braxton eyed the goat as he got close. The thing was staring right at him through one weird-shaped pupil, the little red Santa hat covering its other eye, an elastic strap holding it in place beneath his bearded chin. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing,” she said on a laugh. “Reggie’s a fainting goat.”
He glanced at her in surprise, got lost for a second staring into her big brown eyes, and swore he read silent yearning there for a split second. Her face was so close, and the intimate way she watched him made it damn near impossible to keep his hands off her. The way she’d hugged him at the airport had filled the empty void he’d been carrying around inside him for too long. Holding her for those few precious moments had made his whole chest ache, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself.
She was dangerous. Testing his self-control to an extent no one else ever had, even though he had to keep his hands off her and never let her know how much he wanted her. For reasons he was well aware of.
Realizing he was staring, he snapped back to the present and responded to what she’d just said. “For real?”
“Yep. Tate’s neighbor raises them. Come on, I’ll open Curt’s gate and you can put him back in the yard.”
Braxton bent to gather up Reggie. The little goat bleated but didn’t struggle, staring up at him, his body rigid.
Braxton straightened and started carrying him down the street behind Tala, lit up by Mason’s headlights. He couldn’t help but admire the sexy shape of her lithe, toned body, or notice the way her jeans hugged her ass just below the edge of her thermal jacket. The slight hitch in her gait from her prosthetic was barely noticeable now. She’d come so far in her recovery, and was now a competitive biathlete. She was one of the strongest people he knew.