managed any time together. Holly would have known.
Wouldn’t she have known?
NYGirl: How do you know Kate’s going to the balloon races?
ShootFirst: Facebook.
NYGirl: You’re stalking my friend on Facebook?
ShootFirst: She poked me. She was being friendly, sent me a long newsy note. That’s what people think we want over here, news from home.
NYGirl: Don’t you?
NYGirl: Grif?
ShootFirst: Don’t go out to Diamond Ridge or Mount Eagle alone.
Interesting subject change. Grif wasn’t “friends” with women. He went through women like other men went through socks. And Kate wasn’t the one-night stand type—though she’d give a perfect stranger the shirt off her back.
If Grif had taken the shirt off Kate’s back, Holly would have to kill him. And that’d be a shame, since she loved her brother’s stubborn, nosy, interfering hide. Mostly.
ShootFirst: Stay home, Holly. I mean it. I’ll get ahold of Adam. He’ll check things out.
NYGirl: I’ve already contacted Adam. He said he’d go.
And no matter what he thought, she was going with him.
ShootFirst: Let him handle it, then.
NYGirl: Grif, you can’t micromanage me from 7,000 miles away. Be safe. Love you.
And then, because she’d discovered this was what worked best with both of her two well-meaning but more than slightly overbearing male relatives, she logged off. “Oops,” she said out loud. “Bad connection.”
She took another moment to send e-mails to her staff and Red, the ranch manager, letting them all know her plans in as much detail as she knew them. She also put in a call to Kel to tell him what she was up to. Because unlike her father, she wanted people to know where she was.
Then she got a backpack together with extra clothes, food, and since she knew exactly how quickly things could change out there, she added stuff for an overnight—not that that was going to happen.
Adam had said he’d leave at first light, but she was going back to Belle Haven now because, one, she didn’t trust Adam. And, two, she didn’t trust Adam. He was likely to take off in the middle of the night just to make sure she didn’t tail him. She’d sleep in her Jeep if she had to. Yes, she was being paranoid, but she was also being proactive, tackling the things in her control.
Letting go of the things not in her control.
Or at least attempting to let go of the things not in her control. That part was still a work in progress.
The lights were on in the building so she took the stairs again, determined to have a calm and rational two-way conversation with Adam about the morning. But when she knocked on the door, it swung open and then she was sucking in a breath, unprepared for the sight in front of her.
Adam was sprawled out facedown on his bed still in only a pair of sweatpants, snug across the best ass she’d ever seen, low-slung enough as to be almost indecent. He was holding stoically still—though swearing viciously into his pillow—as Dell pulled a needle through the skin of his shoulder, stitching him up.
Four
Oh my God.”
At the soft, distressed female voice coming from the doorway, Adam gritted his teeth. He didn’t have to turn and eye the leggy blonde to get his blood pressure rising—her voice was enough. Normally it rose his blood pressure and a certain portion of his anatomy at the same time but not tonight. Craning his neck, he glared up at Dell. “You didn’t lock the door.”
“No,” his brother said calmly. “My hands were full.”
Milo had been sound asleep, but the yellow Lab lifted his head now, assessing the new visitor. Clearly deciding she wasn’t a food source, he yawned and closed his eyes again.
So much for him being a watchdog.
Holly sucked in a shaky breath. “I knew you were hurt,” she said. “And now you’ve got a needle in you.”
“Get her out of here,” Adam said softly to Dell.
“Little busy right now.”
The needle continued to go through Adam’s flesh and he gritted his teeth. Something hit the hardwood floor, Holly’s keys maybe, but the sound was like a shot. He’d been purposely directing his thoughts elsewhere, so he wasn’t sure exactly when his entire body had broken out in a sweat. Or when his heart had begun to race. Or how suddenly the loft faded away and he flashed to a barren, cold cliff in Afghanistan, just outside the caves, frozen into immobility as he watched dead bodies being pulled out—
“Adam.”
He blinked at the sound of Dell’s voice. “Just one more,” Dell said, and the pounding in Adam’s chest retreated as he looked up and met his brother’s knowing gaze.
“You’re good,” Dell said. Not worded as a question. Adam nodded. He was good.
Or at least he was working on it. Two years ago, the panic attacks had ruled his life, but they rarely if ever made an appearance these days. He shook it off as Holly walked up to the bed.
“What happened?” she asked, trying to get a look over Dell’s shoulder. “Who hurt you?”
If he hadn’t been grinding his back teeth into powder at the glide of the needle in and out of his skin, he might have laughed. He was six foot two and built tough enough that few, if any, ever messed with him. He’d made sure of it from a very young age. The way they’d grown up had made it a necessity.
“He saved a kid out at Black Forest River,” Dell said to Holly.
“Seriously?” she asked Adam. “You’re the guy all over the news who leapt halfway down a cliff to save the boy from falling?”
“Yep,” Dell said. “Our very own Batman.”
Adam opened his mouth to tell him to shut the fuck up but Dell grinned at him. “He’s a bit shy about it though. Has a complex. Doesn’t like us to talk about his skills, hasn’t since he got back.”
Adam slid his brother a keep-talking-and-die look but it didn’t stop Dell. Nothing ever did.
“We’ve got the PTSD under control,” Dell continued conversationally to Holly. “But that whole stage-four hero complex thing…It stuck. Maybe you should hold his hand. Stroke his hair.”
“Swear to God,” Adam muttered beneath his breath.
“Why isn’t he at the clinic getting this done?” Holly asked.
“He’s not big on clinics,” Dell said.
If he hadn’t been wielding a needle, Adam would’ve strangled him. Even though it was true. He wasn’t big on clinics. He wasn’t big on doctors, MDs, or shrinks, even though he owed a bunch of them his life. “Holly,” he said wearily. “Go home.”
Instead she came even closer, and then the bed compressed as she sat at his hip. “That cut is pretty deep.” Her voice sounded funny, and remembering that she was incredibly squeamish about blood, Adam lifted his head to get his first real look at her.
Her eyes were locked on his shoulder and the needle being plunged in and out of it, and a soft sound of distress escaped her. Her skin looked waxen, and her eyes had gone glassy, and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to fall off the bed and onto her head. “Holly,” he said sharply.
She didn’t respond, though she slumped over a little.
“Shit,” he said, “there she goes.” He pushed up to his knees to grab at her, managing to catch her just as she would have indeed slid to the floor in a boneless puddle.
Dell swore at Adam’s sudden movement, but Adam ignored him. Had to, because now there was incidental body contact.
Full body contact.
She was soft and warm and flush up against him, and even though she was sweating, she smelled like heaven. “Holly,” he said. “Holly, look at me.”
She did, but it wasn’t good. Her eyes were dilated and she felt clammy to the touch. Keeping her in his lap, resolutely not thinking about how she felt up against him, he pushed her head between her knees. “Breathe,” he told her. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
“Speaking of mouth,” Dell said. “Maybe she needs resuscitating.”
<
br /> Adam leveled him with a gaze over Holly’s head.
“What, just saying.” But Dell moved to her other side. “No worries,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Women faint at the sight of us all the time. It’s the chiseled good looks. Mostly mine, of course.”
She choked out what might have been a soft laugh.
“It’s true,” Dell said. “They’ve asked us not to stand too close together, ever. We cause riots.”
Holly, color back now, laughed again. Dell was good at that. Making women laugh. Making women feel good.
Once upon a time Adam had been good at those things, too, but he was sorely out of practice, and not too interested in changing that anytime soon.
Holly lifted her head and caught sight of the needle and thread now hanging from his shoulder. Quickly she closed her eyes and dropped her head to the crook of his neck. “Oh, Adam.”
He sighed and stroked a hand down her hair, which felt like silk. Not that he was noticing, even if a strand of it had caught on the stubble of his jaw. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said.
“Are you sure? Because it looks bad. And you’re pale. You’re never pale.”
“I’ve seen him look much worse,” Dell said. “Like last year, when I signed him up for this online dating thing. He got all scared. He was pretty pale then.”
“Because I was stalked,” Adam said. “By a crazy person.”
“Aw, she wasn’t that bad. And she bought you that teddy bear, remember? Because you were her cuddle umpkins. How scary can a woman who says ‘cuddle umpkins’ be?”
Holly laughed.
Adam shook his head. “She broke in and tried to convince me to marry her. With a Taser. You always leave that part out.”
Holly’s damp forehead was still pressed to his throat, and when she snorted, damned if her lips didn’t brush against his skin, causing a head-to-toe body shiver to wrack him.
“You sure you don’t need to see a doctor?” Holly asked him.
“Dell’s a doctor.”
“He’s a veterinarian. No offense,” she said to Dell.
“None taken,” Dell said. “But no worries, I’ve stitched up hundreds of animals over the past few years. Including this guy here, more than once.”
Because Holly’s color was back, Adam forced himself to take his hands off her. She slid off the bed and paced the length of the room away from him. Like errant soldiers, his eyes followed her. She still had a world-class ass…
“This changes everything,” she said, and turned to face him.
He shook his head. “I can still go.”
“Where?” Dell asked.
“Of course you can’t still go,” Holly said. “You’re injured.”
“I’ve got this,” Adam said firmly.
“Go where?” Dell repeated.
“Donald’s missing.” Adam watched Holly gnaw on her lower lip. If she hadn’t shown up earlier, he wouldn’t have thought twice about her father’s disappearance. Donald liked to be alone.
But Holly wasn’t much for worrying. Or coddling, for that matter. She wouldn’t have come here, to him of all people, if she weren’t absolutely desperate. Clearly her instincts were screaming.
There’d been more than a few times where Adam’s own instincts had saved his sorry hide. He wanted to go out into the mountains with Holly like he wanted a root canal, but he couldn’t ignore her level of concern.
“Where did he go?” Dell asked.
Holly shrugged. “Hunting three days ago, and he hasn’t returned.”
“He always goes off hunting for days on end,” Dell said.
“This time is different,” both Adam and Holly said at the exact same moment.
Holly stared at Adam in shock for a beat, during which he did his best not to stare back. There’d been a time when finishing each other’s sentences had been second nature.
That time was long gone.
Dell divided an amused gaze between them. “Okay, so let me get this straight. The two of you are going into the mountains on a search for Donald. Together.”
“Yes,” Holly said.
“No,” Adam said. Hell no. “I’m going,” he said. “Holly’s not.”
“Yes, I am,” she said, jaw tight, heels digging in.
Adam remembered the last time he’d seen that expression—when he’d told her he was leaving Sunshine, going into the military, and that she wasn’t to wait for him. It hadn’t been any easier to look at her then than it was now. “I track faster alone,” he said.
She crossed her arms but refrained from saying anything. This did not ease his mind in the slightest. She’d grown up with tough men: Donald, Grif, Red, and a bunch of ranch hands. She knew how to handle them, and herself. He knew that her narrowed gaze, her tight, sexy, glossed mouth, combined with that stern teacher-to-errant-pupil expression usually worked for her, making even the most stalwart of men cave.
But not him.
Never him.
Dell, still eyeing them both, only laughed softly. He was having fun. He might have no idea that Adam and Holly had once had a thing, but he clearly suspected and could put two and two together. It didn’t matter. What did matter was that a joint mission between the two of them would be a disaster of epic proportions. He allowed Dell to push him back to the bed and braced himself as his brother finished doctoring him up.
“My stitches,” Dell said as he finally set the bandage. “My bandage. This means don’t touch. If you want to touch, you call me. If you don’t think you can manage that, I’m going to put a cone around your neck.” He slid a look at Holly. “Soldiers are the worst. They don’t rest, they don’t listen. They think they’re invincible.”
She nodded.
Dell turned back to Adam. “So, to recap: touch my stitches or my bandage and I’ll kill you. Got it?”
Adam sat up. “So I should remove the bandage and stitches myself, then?”
Dell sighed and began to clean up. “Big storm moving in tomorrow afternoon.”
Holly nibbled on her lower lip and looked out the window. “We could go now.”
There she went with the royal we again.
“No go,” Dell said, shaking his head. “Our boy hasn’t slept in forty-eight. He needs shut-eye and some fuel. Trust me, if he doesn’t get food soon, he’s going to get even more bitchy and need Midol to boot.”
Adam slid his brother a long look that didn’t intimidate him in the slightest. “And for the tenth time,” he said to Holly, “there’s no ‘we.’ I’m going alone. I just need a few hours of sleep and then I’ll be good.”
Holly hesitated, worry and concern all over her face, and he couldn’t stop the thought—had she felt this way when he’d taken off?
No, you idiot, you’d made sure of that… “I’ll find him,” he heard himself promise her.
She held his gaze for a long beat and then, without another word, nodded and left.
When the door shut behind her, Adam closed his eyes and let out a breath of relief. Whether she hated him or not, and he was pretty sure she did, she at least was going to let him do this. More relaxed now, he felt himself start to drift off right where he lay.
“Lot of tension between you two,” Dell said casually.
Adam ignored this.
“Sexual tension.”
And that…