“You’re depressed, and you’re wallowing,” Leslie said.
“Bye, Leslie.”
“Hang up on me, and I’ll log in to the video camera I had the contractors install in the apartment while they were doing the modifications.”
“You didn’t...” Eddie scanned the room, before hearing her laugh.
Unexpectedly, it made his own face crack. Just a little.
“No, you idiot, I didn’t. And I haven’t put a tracker on your phone, either, but you just confirmed my suspicions.”
He released a deep breath. “Look, I’m fine. I’m adjusting.”
“Apparently, your idea of adjusting is turning into a complete asshole.”
Wow, so much for a concerned sister calling to check in.
“I heard you weren’t exactly nice to Gran at the tuxedo fitting,” she said.
That was true, and he did feel bad about it. He’d sent flowers to apologize, but he couldn’t take back his sour mood that day—or his shitty attitude with Montana a few days before. His sister was right. He was turning into an asshole, but he couldn’t stop it. He wanted to be that optimistic guy who looked at his new situation with positivity, but all he could muster was the strength to move from the bedroom to the living room and back again. “I apologized. We’re cool.” His grandmother deserved his love and respect, and she’d get nothing but going forward. And he wouldn’t leave the house if he wasn’t capable of that. No more hurting people he cared about.
“Eddie, if you need to talk to someone, there are some really great therapists in the department.” Ones she’d refused to talk to years before, after her fiancé, a fellow state trooper, had died on the job. Drunk driver in a high-speed chase had T-boned Dawson’s vehicle on their wedding day. He’d died at the scene, and Leslie had never been the same. She’d moved on with her life and slowly started to get over the tragedy, but if anyone understood a fraction of what he was going through, the dangers of the job and the risks they took and the consequences attached, it was her.
But like her, a therapist wasn’t something he was quite ready for yet. The ones at the hospital hadn’t helped. He needed to find a way out of this darkness on his own. “Yeah, I’ll think about it,” he mumbled. Then the smell of smoke made him sit straighter.
What was burning? He glanced into the kitchen, but he hadn’t used the stove or oven in weeks. The empty take-out bags all around his apartment had their own disgusting scent, but that wasn’t it.
The sound of the smoke detector next door echoed loudly through his apartment wall. Montana was cooking? Or trying to?
Damn, if Lance was coming to dinner again that evening, his sister would see how fast Eddie could leave his apartment when sufficiently motivated.
“Hey, I’ll call you back,” he said.
“No, you won’t, but that’s fine. Just get help,” Leslie said.
He disconnected the call and left the apartment, then knocked loudly on Montana’s door. The wailing continued inside her apartment, so he knocked again. Louder.
When she opened it, he could barely see her in the thick cloud of smoke. “What are you doing?”
“Cooking?”
He moved past her into the apartment and headed for the kitchen. Grabbing a dish towel from the stove, he waved it beneath the smoke detector in the hall as Montana continued to open all the windows.
The noise ceased, but he kept waving it as the smoke disappeared outside.
He shivered as the space quickly cooled with the fall mountain breeze blowing through, but then he was instantly grateful for the chill in the air as Montana came into better view.
Dressed in yoga pants and a bra top, his mouth watered, and his tongue went dry at the same time. Fuck, she was hot, even if she couldn’t boil water. Long, sexy, shapely calf muscles and thighs leading up to curvy hips, hugged tight by the blue fabric, had his eyes moving slowly upward, taking it all in. Her tight stomach and full chest, long arms and neck. Like a dancer. Shit, just the sight of her had him going hard. Something that hadn’t happened in weeks.
Happy to know he was still capable of it, but he put the dish towel on his lap to cover up the evidence.
“Thank you,” she said. “Sorry if the noise interrupted your evening.”
Funny, she didn’t look sorry at all. She actually looked pleased with herself—for what exactly? She folded her arms across her body in the cool air, and the action had her breasts squeezing together, giving him an even more tempting view of her cleavage.
She caught his stare and grinned.
Was she doing this on purpose? “What were you making?” He went into the kitchen and opened the lid on the pot. Water. Or at least there used to be water in the pot. Now it was empty and charred. “There’s nothing in here.”
She looked slightly sheepish. “Okay...so maybe I wasn’t cooking.”
He frowned. Had he been set up? “Did you just try to burn down the building to get me over here?”
“What if I did?” Her voice held a daring, challenging tone that instantly sparked something to life inside him.
“I’m reporting you to the apartment board,” he said, but his mood had been lifted for the first time in weeks. She’d wanted to see him, even though he’d been an asshole before.
“You’d get me evicted?” she asked, her gaze definitely flirty. More flirty than was safe. He felt himself twitch beneath the dish towel. Time to go.
He cleared his throat as he moved past her toward the door. “Just be careful,” he said. “Some of us can’t get out of the building as fast as we used to,” he said, surprised that there wasn’t even a hint of bitterness in the joke.
She nodded, looking slightly disappointed but not completely derailed. “At least I know how to get you out of your apartment.”
His pulse raced. “There might be easier, less dangerous ways.”
Why the hell had he said that? He didn’t want to give Montana false hope or the wrong impression. Leaving the door open for her to reach out to him again wasn’t smart. He couldn’t hang out with her anymore. Obviously, he still wanted to.
“Yeah, but they’re not as much fun,” she said as he went back into the hall. She leaned against the doorframe, and her soft expression was void of pity or guilt. Just beautiful, sexy Montana looking at him with an unconcealed interest that he’d only gotten a glimpse of before.
He had to be careful not to let himself believe it.
But he did take the opportunity to allow his eyes to scan her body once more, so he could survive on the memory of it for quite some time...
“Can I have my dish towel back?” she asked, the knowing look on her face as she held out her hand made it difficult not to smile as a slight embarrassment washed over him.
“No,” he said, turning away from her and heading back to his apartment.
She laughed. “Just neighbors, huh? Good night, Eddie.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
HE COULDN’T AVOID the station or his coworkers forever. Still, Eddie sat in his van, staring at the building. How could he go inside like this? How could he face everyone? The shooting had changed his career and future on the force. He wasn’t even sure if there would still be a position for him, active duty he was still capable of, or if he’d ever get his confidence back to even try.
He wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t suffering from nightmares or PTSD symptoms from the incident. He’d done what he was trained to do, and he’d done the right thing in the moment. But he didn’t want to return to a job that he couldn’t be great at. His motivation for pushing so hard to join the force in the first place had been his confidence that he could be a really great officer. But, without that certainty anymore, could he realistically stay in the job?
Several of his coworkers had visited him a few times in the hospital, but he’d sent them away. It had been a jerk move, but surely, they hadn’t
wanted to see him lying there—helpless, uncertain, useless... It only reminded them of the danger of the job they did every day.
The last thing he’d wanted to be was a cautionary tale.
Lying in the hospital, he replayed every second of that moment over and over in his mind. Had he acted the right way? Could he have done something differently?
But from all angles, the only thing that could have been different was that it would have been Montana bleeding on the sidewalk, unable to walk—or worse—if he hadn’t done what he did, as quickly as he did.
If he needed a silver lining, that was it. And it was actually a pretty damn good one. All night, he’d kept the memory of her in his mind—the sexy body, the teasing flirtation, how clear it was that she wasn’t going to make it easy for him to push her away.
Shit. He ran a hand through his hair. What the hell was he going to do about his neighbor? He couldn’t have her, but his body definitely wanted her. She was dangerous in the way she’d been able to spark life back into him the night before. A man could start to crave that feeling...and a stupid man might seek it out.
He sighed as he removed his seat belt. Better go in before anyone saw him sitting out there like a moron.
He did want to find out if the station had found any leads on suspects in the shooting yet. Adams had texted him several times, but there hadn’t been any progress. His captain had signed off on his leave and was giving him the time and space he’d requested, but he owed his boss a check-in and a discussion about next steps.
He went inside and immediately wanted to turn the chair around and leave. Inside the station was a big banner that read Welcome Back, Eddie and on his desk were balloons, flowers, and boxes of cookies and cupcakes. Some from his coworkers. Others from locals in town who’d heard about the incident.
Damn, Adams must have told everyone he was planning to come in that day. He’d only texted Adams about it to see if he could pull the files on the incident for him to take a look at.
Overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity but also slightly embarrassed, Eddie continued past his desk and moved quickly to his captain’s office. He hesitated before knocking twice on the slightly open door.
“It’s open,” came the captain’s voice from inside.
Eddie pushed the door open and entered. “Hey, Captain Clarkson—”
“Eddie! Great to see you. Come on in,” the man said, standing and closing the door behind him. Then he took Eddie’s hand and shook it. “The department is honored to have you serve our community,” he said, serious and somber.
Shit. He was treating him like a hero. Eddie wasn’t sure what he’d expected exactly, but this just made him even more uncomfortable. He wanted everyone to be normal around him. Ride his ass. Bust his balls. Not this. “Um, thank you. I thought it might be time to stop by.”
“Absolutely. Your desk is ready whenever you are.”
Desk. Right. He’d be limited to that from now on. No more patrols. No stakeouts. No arrests. He hadn’t realized his job in Wild River could get even less desirable. Now, he longed to be monitoring the trail to the jump site. “I’m not sure what my future here looks like, yet,” he said.
Captain Clarkson nodded. “Of course. We will figure it out, though. We definitely don’t want to lose you as a member of the team.”
A member of the team. But in what capacity? He could kiss his transfer to the narcotics division in Anchorage goodbye. They wouldn’t want him now. But he wasn’t ready to hear that yet, so he asked, “Any leads on the shooter?”
“Not yet. We haven’t been able to find a match for the bullet in our existing database. Unfortunately, no one saw the person—except you. The description is vague, and not a single camera along Main Street caught a clear image. Not of the shooter, anyway...” He turned his monitor to face Eddie and called up security-camera footage of that night. “Are you ready to see this?”
Probably not. Eddie nodded.
Captain Clarkson hit Play, and Eddie leaned closer. He saw Montana and Lance walk past the bakery, laughing and talking. His chest tightened, and the reaction was almost comical. This wasn’t going to be the tough part to watch, yet it was still difficult to see Montana with the other guy.
Was she still seeing Lance? She’d said he wasn’t her boyfriend. And would she have been flirting with him the night before if they were still seeing one another? He hadn’t seen the other guy come or go, hadn’t heard his voice through the walls...
He saw himself appear on the screen, and he held his breath as he leaned closer. He was running, then jumping, followed by the crash to the ground, his body shielding Montana’s before falling limp.
His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the screen. Not at himself lying on the ground but at Montana and the way she cradled his body, the way she touched his face, the terrified expression on her face as she yelled to Lance to call 9-1-1 but then stayed focused on Eddie.
Shit. He was in trouble.
Anyone in Montana’s situation, in that moment, would react exactly the same.
He had to keep reminding himself that.
Captain Clarkson stopped the footage as the first emergency flashing lights appeared on the screen. “That save should have been impossible,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve watched this footage a dozen times. So have the other guys. Eddie, you must have flown through the air to pull that off,” the man said.
“Adrenaline, I guess,” he said. Adrenaline that would have given him extra strength and speed for anyone? Or just Montana?
“It was definitely something. We spoke with both Montana and Lance, but they weren’t able to offer a lot of help. Lance did agree that the shooter was most likely targeting him, but he had no idea who might want him hurt or dead.”
“Have we talked to his teammates on the Olympic team? Former competitors? North Mountain Sports Company executives?” Maybe his sponsorship deals were going south? Maybe someone didn’t want to see him compete that year? Lance’s skills on the slopes made him a definite target, and his arrogant nature didn’t make him the most likable.
What did Montana see in this guy, anyway? Obviously she was attracted to sporty, confident bad boys. Eddie didn’t check any of those boxes, yet she hadn’t exactly been subtle in her attraction to him the night before.
“Eddie, you still with me?” Captain Clarkson waved a hand in front of his distracted, far-off gaze.
“Sorry, yes... What did you say?”
“I said we were hoping maybe you’d be interested in being part of the investigation. Questioning everyone you mentioned, gathering new leads...”
Was he ready for that? Investigating his own shooting might be jumping in a little headfirst, too fast. “I’m sorry, Captain. I don’t think that’s a great idea.” He hadn’t even decided if he was coming back to the job.
If Captain Clarkson was disappointed, he hid it well. “Totally understandable. We move at your pace, Eddie. Okay?”
What was his pace? First, he needed to make a decision about whether he had a future on the force. Then they could move forward with a reintegration plan.
“We’re still in need of volunteers for the Haunted Trail,” Captain Clarkson said. “If you’re interested?”
Eddie hesitated. The Haunted Trail was the station’s annual event that they’d been hosting since Eddie was a kid. They used an old barnlike structure on an acreage just outside of town with woodsy trails for a spooky Halloween event with proceeds donated to local charities. Eddie had participated the last two years. It wasn’t exactly active duty, but it was a way to reconnect with the guys, get back to living and being involved in the community without any pressure or expectations. It was something he could do right now when he was feeling like there was little else he could fill his days with... Maybe if he got involved, it might provide some needed clarity. “Okay. Yes, sir. I’m happy to help.”
Happy might be an overstatement, but he hoped to eventually get there.
* * *
ONCE THE CRAZY idea came to her, there was no talking herself out of it.
Since meeting Amber and Frank the day before, Montana had renewed determination to bring Eddie back to the land of the living. Like her, he’d been given a second chance, and neither of them were going to squander a second of it by focusing on the things they couldn’t do.
She’d made a few calls, pulled some strings and told Cassie she needed to take the day off. Now, she just had to get Eddie out of his apartment and into the van.
Was she strong enough to lift him if she was reduced to knocking him out and dragging him the whole way?
She knocked on his apartment door, unwilling to be deterred by a shitty attitude or excuses. She missed her annoying yet charmingly seductive neighbor, and this was the only hope she had of getting him back.
He opened it, leaning on a crutch, a piece of toast in his mouth. “Hi.”
Good. No chair today. That was definitely a good sign.
Also, no shirt. Her gaze wandered the length of his torso...
Focus, Montana. You’re on a mission.
She whipped her gaze back to his face, forbidding herself to look elsewhere, otherwise there might be a new crazy plan. “I need you to come someplace with me,” she said.
He looked confused. “Where?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“You want me to go somewhere with you, but you won’t tell me where?”
“Exactly.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like something I’m going to do,” he said, but there was just enough of a hint of intrigue in his voice that she pushed on, as he continued to eat his toast.
“Why not? Afraid?”
“Absolutely,” he said.
A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Good. You should be. But, you know, fear is really just the same emotional reaction as excitement. It’s how you process the feeling of adrenaline that matters.”
A Sweet Alaskan Fall Page 13