Brian: A Montana Bounty Hunters Story

by Devlin, Delilah

  Raydeen snorted. “Likely, he’s still cussing under his breath. He did not want to join us today.”

  Jamie’s expression grew wistful. “It has to be hard watching all of us, so able-bodied, circling this track. He used to smoke me when we ran for PT in the Army.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for him,” Raydeen said, shaking her head. “Brian’s mobile. His brain injury isn’t holding him back none. If you feel sorry for him, it’ll only make it easier for him to make excuses for why he’s still sittin’ in that chair.”

  Jamie shot her a sideways glance. “Raydeen, do you think maybe he feels like he’s been through enough? That he’s satisfied with his present mobility? He gets around fine in his chair. Even plays basketball with the guys.”

  For a second, Raydeen wondered if her stubborn pursuit of Brian was really for his good or for hers. Nah. “If he was satisfied sitting in his chair, he wouldn’t hide behind his work. He’d ask a girl out and see about taking care of his manly needs.”

  Jamie barked a laugh. “His manly needs?”

  Raydeen wrinkled her nose. “I’d lay money the only action that man has had since he lost his legs is what his own hand gives him.”

  Jamie blew out a breath that filled her cheeks. “He’s in a much better state of mind than when I first got back here. You didn’t see him then—skinny as a rail, his hair down to his shoulders, and looking so scruffy you just knew he didn’t bathe all that often. When I see him now, I see life in his eyes. He’s come a long way.”

  “He has,” Raydeen agreed, remembering the man she’d first met at a Soldier’s Sanctuary meeting nearly a year ago. He’d come, accompanied by Jamie. Back then, he’d had a feral look, his gaze constantly darting toward the door. She’d attended in her capacity as a physical therapist working with soldiers returning from war with physical disabilities. When she’d introduced herself for the first time to Brian, he’d ghosted her for the rest of the meeting. Once she’d started to work with his teammate, Hook, it hadn’t been so easy for him to escape her. “Jamie, if I thought he was happy with his progress, I wouldn’t press.”

  “I know, just…”

  Raydeen gave a jerky nod. “Give him time. I know. But he’s had time, and my patience is wearin’ thin.”

  Jamie grinned. “So, why don’t you ask him out?”

  Raydeen turned her head to stare at the woman. “Ask him out? I want to be his therapist.”

  “I see the way you look at him,” the blonde said, her light brown eyes twinkling. “I also see the way he looks at you…”

  Then she sped up, leaving Raydeen behind. Which was fine with her. The very idea. She didn’t date her patients. She neared the bleachers where Brian sat, holding out his arm.

  “Ten minutes, ten seconds. Get the lead out of your ass, Pickering,” he said, giving her a smirk.

  “And she thinks I want to date that asshole?” she muttered under her breath once she was well past him. She didn’t want to date him. No way. Straddle his lap and sink on his cock? Maybe. She’d noticed the way he looked at her lately, too, when he thought she wasn’t looking. His dark eyes smoldering, eating her up. Damn, the bastard had her thinking things she shouldn’t. Had her hot and itchy. Not for the first time, she wondered what he’d do if she walked up behind him and bent to lick the rim of his ear. Take a little nibble. Would he shiver or jerk away?

  The thought was tempting, but if she tried it and he rejected her, she’d lose any chance of rehabilitating him.

  Best to keep things all business. Get him thinking about trying on a pair of prosthetic limbs. There wasn’t any reason in the world other than his own stubbornness that was stopping him from getting back more of what he’d lost.

  She must have slowed her pace more than she’d thought because Dagger and Hook lapped her.

  “Better pick up the pace, Raye,” Hook said, turning to run backwards as he gave her an “eat shit” grin.

  “You fall on your ass and break your hook, don’t come running to me to get it repaired again,” she groused.

  He laughed and turned, and then cursed because Dagger had used his inattention to put twenty yards between them.

  “Catch him, baby,” Hook’s girlfriend, Felicity Gronkowski, called out. The little redhead stood and held her fist aloft, pumping the air to encourage him while Quincy’s fiancée, Tamara Adams, laughed beside her.

  “Why don’t you join us?” Hook called out to Felicity.

  She raised a foot to show him her heeled boots. “I’m not dressed for it. Plus, I’m getting breathless just watching you guys!”

  Beside her, Dagger’s girl, Lacey Jones, hooted. “Dagger, baby, don’t you let Hook catch you. I’ve got something for you if you finish first!”

  Dagger raised a middle finger. He likely didn’t have the breath to holler back at her. His beefy frame wasn’t made for speed.

  Reaper Stenberg, Brian’s other boss, pulled up beside Raydeen, breathing hard. “I’m too old for this shit,” he growled.

  Raydeen glanced behind her to see whether his wife was still on the track. “Carly’s slowin’ down. Why don’t you go encourage her?” she said slyly, giving him a reason not to try to keep up with the two more energetic bounty hunters.

  Reaper gave her a narrow-eyed look. “Good idea.” Then he fell back to jog beside the curvy brunette.

  Raydeen knew the hunters well—through Hook—but also because she tended to drop in on their office a lot. They didn’t seem to mind, likely enjoying the way her presence got under Brian’s skin.

  Cochise, Animal, and Quincy were the only hunters not on the track that morning. When the crew had arrived, Reaper told her he’d sent them to Colorado to track down a high-dollar skip. However, everyone else was there. Even the hunter’s ladies. Animal’s girl, Allie Travers, wasn’t running. She’d come with her camera to video the team for the agency’s website. Although why fans wanted to see the hunters dressed in sweats and beanies, sweating bullets as they ran, was beyond her.

  Thinking about all the changes that had come to the office Brian ran—the new hunters, the reality TV show—she was amazed he’d adapted so well. Brian wasn’t a fluid, flexible kind of guy, and he didn’t like change. He needed control over his environment. Things, and people, in their places. With so many hunters to keep track of now, she knew he had to be a bit stressed. Not that he showed it.

  She worried about what he didn’t show, and wished he had a confidant, someone to talk to. She wished it could be her.

  However, she knew if he ever considered her as more than a friend, she’d still be a distant second to the object of his affections. Raydeen doubted Jamie was even aware that her best friend was in love with her.

  Lot of good that would ever do him. Jamie loved her husband Sky. No, Brian needed to open himself up to consider someone else, otherwise he’d be pining for a woman he could never have for the rest of his days.

  And that wasn’t healthy. She knew. She’d grieved a long time after the loss of her husband. Also Army, like Brian. Also grievously wounded. Only Mike hadn’t had the balls to suck it up and get on with his life. Before he’d even left rehab at Walter Reed, he’d hung himself inside his room while she’d left to get a bite to eat at the cafeteria.

  Raydeen stretched her legs and raised her arms, speeding up. As her feet pounded the track, she pushed back the memory of arriving to find attendants crowding the doorway of Mike’s room. She’d known before she’d pushed her way inside that he was gone. Hell, he’d never really come back from Iraq. What had arrived Stateside had been a husk of the man she’d loved.

  So, why was she ready to take on more heartbreak? How could she be attracted to another amputee? She passed Brian without looking at him, keeping her expression fierce as she raced.

  What was she doing? He didn’t want her help. He’d made that clear by the way he made her pry him from his office every time she showed up for her workout “dates” with Hook. Hook had figured out quickly what she was trying to do and was
all for shaking the other man out of his comfort zone. But she hadn’t made much headway.

  As she rounded the track again, she dared a glance his way.

  Although Dagger and Hook had finished their two miles and were standing beside him, his gaze was locked on her.

  Once again, she felt pulled in by the intensity of his dark eyes. The man wasn’t immune to this attraction that hummed between them. She felt it. There was no way he didn’t as well.

  Hell, he’d taken off his jacket and had it laying across his lap. She’d bet anything that she, not Jamie, was the reason.

  She slowed her pace, jogging the last hundred yards and lowering her arms. When she got closer, she gave him a steady stare as she closed in, reached for the arms of his wheelchair, and bent over him. “Time?” she asked breathing hard, noting that his gaze went to her heaving chest. No way he wasn’t interested in her “girls”.

  He cleared his throat and raised the stopwatch. “Fifteen-forty-five,” he said, his tone curt. “You’ve done better.”

  She didn’t straighten. Still bent toward him, she curved her lips. “Next time,” she whispered. She pushed away and turned, and then slowly walked away, knowing he was watching her ass wag as she left.

  At her car, she reached inside her gym bag for a bottle of water, unscrewed the top, and poured it down her throat.

  Hook jogged toward her.

  She gave him a scowl. “It’s not fair you still have energy,” she said, mopping the quickly cooling sweat from her forehead with a towel.

  Hook waggled his eyebrows. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. Haven’t seen him this…um, agitated, ever.”

  She snorted. “I knew he had a hard-on.”

  Hook laughed. “Yeah, well. Guys get ’em. Sometimes, they really do have a mind of their own.”

  “I understand anatomy, Hook,” she said, grimacing. “Thing is, I shouldn’t be teasing him. Not if I’m going to work with him.”

  Hook gave her a pointed stare. “How about you be his friend, first. Might get you further.”

  She gave him the stink-eye and shut her door. “Be sure to call me when you’re free for another run.”

  “Don’t worry about dropping in the office, anytime, whether I’m there or not. You don’t need an excuse.”

  He turned and jogged back to his truck. Felicity gave a wave before climbing into the passenger seat.

  Raydeen glanced around. Reaper and Carly were already pulling out of the parking lot. Dagger and Lacey were kissing against the side of his truck.

  “Hey, get a room,” Brian called out as he wheeled past them. He made a beeline for his van, his head down, likely trying to ignore her presence. Hard to do since she’d parked right beside his vehicle.

  She waited while he reached up, opened the driver’s door, then placed his hands on the steering wheel and the arm rest on the door to pull himself up into his seat. Then he leaned down for his wheelchair, folded it inward, and lifted it over his body to deposit in the space behind the passenger seat.

  Inwardly, she acknowledged that every little aspect of his life was harder than most folks’. She took for granted the fact she could easily slide right inside her car. Everything Brian did as he went about doing “normal” tasks took longer.

  She walked over to his window and tapped on it.

  The window whirred downward. “Raye, what you need?” he asked, giving her a baleful stare.

  She wondered what he’d say if she said, You. “I was wondering….” Pausing, she ignored the thumping of her heart. “Would you like to grab breakfast with me?”

  He blinked, but his expression didn’t change. “I have to get back to the office.”

  “It’s Saturday,” she said, trying not to sound like a smart ass. “Even a bounty hunter wrangler deserves a morning off.”

  “Bounty hunter wrangler?” he said, arching an eyebrow.

  “That’s what you do, right?” she said, smiling. “Has to be as hard as herdin’ cats.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” His mouth twitched. “Guess we could. Bear Lodge Café is wheelchair-friendly. Just one thing…”

  She gave him a nod. “Shoot.”

  “No pressure about the Sanctuary.”

  “Deal,” she said, then reached inside to shake his hand.

  She wasn’t a little girl, and had never thought of her hands as dainty, but his large hand engulfed hers in heat. When he ended the shake, she felt disappointed. His touch had felt…right. Made her want more. In other places. She pointed toward the front of his vehicle. “Maybe we could ride together…?”

  “Sure,” he said, his expression shuttering again.

  She knew he was already regretting accepting her invitation, and she was just prolonging his exposure by riding with him, but she was beginning to think Hook might be right.

  Maybe she ought to pursue him. Be his friend. She could make him see that it was time to trade the candle he carried for Jamie for one that could burn just for him. And if she had to do the chasing, so be it. She’d prove to him he was mooning over the wrong woman. Ms. Right was climbing right inside his damn van.

  Chapter 3

  Brian didn’t know what the hell had happened, but the soft-voiced, soft-mouthed Raydeen he’d talked to at his window wore a hard smile and a militant gleam in her eye when she climbed into the passenger seat.

  Again, he drew deep breaths, trying to hide the fact he was calming himself because his dick was getting hard again, and damn he didn’t want her to know she made him that way—far faster than Jamie ever had.

  With that calculating glint in her eye, he couldn’t stop himself from imagining her nude, rising above him, her full breasts swaying as she straddled him and sank down, engulfing his cock in a single stroke.

  And now, his cock pressed hard against his zipper. He bit back a groan.

  Her lips slid into a grin. “Change your mind, Brian?”

  Was he only imagining that her voice had dropped an octave? “Course not. Breakfast. Everyone eats it. Or should.” Fuck, he sounded like an idiot. He cleared his throat and put the vehicle into reverse. Using the spinner knob on the steering wheel, which made it possible for him to steer with one hand while his left worked the gas and brake lever, he backed out the van then drove smoothly forward, entering the school drive before turning onto the highway that led into town.

  “That was fun today,” she said, her gaze on the road ahead. “Who won, anyway? Dagger or Hook?”

  One side of Brian’s mouth quirked upward. “Dagger, but only by a nose.”

  “And only because Hook gave him the advantage running backwards like that.” She leaned against the passenger door and angled her body towards his. “What did they wager anyway?”

  “Their dignity,” Brian said, his smile stretching. “The loser has to film a vlog with Lacey while she tests a new mask. It’s pink and sparkles.”

  Raydeen’s smile stretched her lush mouth, showing most of her white teeth. Her mouth was his second favorite feature. Not that he ought to have favorites. No, it was stupid to notice the light brown freckles on her cheeks and nose, but they made her seem more approachable. Less intimidating. At least, when her dark eyebrows weren’t lowered into her “Amazon-fierce” frown. He remembered how she’d looked that last lap, her dark, corkscrew curls floating around her head, her long, sturdy legs stretching, her breasts swaying…

  Jesus-fucking-Christ. If she looked at his lap now…

  He drew another deep breath and let it out slowly. So, she was attractive. In a scary way. No, scary wasn’t the right word, because he didn’t really live in fear of Raydeen, although he ought to. She represented everything he’d fled after weeks of rehab. Another bull-nosed therapist, who thought she knew better than he did about what he should want. Though to be fair, she hadn’t brought up the subject of prosthetics in a really long time.

  Still, she was in his van. That might just mean she was getting sneakier about how she was going to convince him that standing tall
should be the end-all goal of all double amputees.

  She couldn’t be inside his van because she was really interested in him.

  “I like the haircut,” she said, then turned to stare out the window again.

  He shot her a glance. Her dusky cheeks were pink. Was she embarrassed about giving him a compliment? “Thanks,” he mumbled. He’d cut his hair short purely for convenience. Less to wash. Short enough he wouldn’t need to get another cut for months.

  “I enjoyed having a look inside your new ops van that day.”

  A subject he could warm up to… Now, he knew she was fishing for something. “You should see it when the team’s on a mission—all the monitors lit.”

  “You said you can operate the drone from the console, too…?”

  “Yeah, with a joystick. Although when the team’s on the ground and I’m operating the stick, I really need another operator in the van with me. Felicity has gone out with me a time or two, but we’re going to have to train up someone else, someone who works for the agency fulltime. Felicity is pretty busy with her own day job.”

  “We?”

  He gave her a questioning glance.

  “You said, ‘We’re going to have to train up someone else…’”

  He grimaced. “Well, me. I’ll have to train someone.”

  From the corner of his eye, he watched as she studied him. “Bet you don’t like having someone else in your space.”

  “I don’t like or dislike…” He frowned, because he knew that was lie. “It’s not about me, Raye, it’s about what the team needs—eyes in the air and on the ground.”

  “Huh.” Her lips pursed.

  Heat shot straight through him, warming his face and other regions best not contemplated. Because he was pissed with her answer. She didn’t believe he was putting the team’s needs first. He wasn’t getting warm because her lips looked as though they’d feel like cushions if he kissed them…