Chapter Seventeen

The fire crackled and hissed, its sparks rising into the darkness to float away like tiny orange stars in the night.

Maggie scooted close, exhausted, but content. They’d had tomato soup with saltines for dinner, and she didn’t think anything had ever tasted so good. For dessert, Koda brought out a giant Hershey bar and split it in half.

Maggie nibbled on a corner. “My favorite. How’d you know?”

“I didn’t. Aunt A always keeps a box of candy bars in her cupboard. I raided it before we left.”

“A woman after my own heart.”

“It’s ridiculous. We used to walk around with constant stomach aches when we were kids.”

Maggie watched the campfire dance, felt its heat on her face. The smell brought back memories of her dad taking her camping when she was little. She’d almost forgotten there had been a time when she’d liked the woods.

“You wouldn’t want to see my thighs if I had twenty-four-hour access to a box of chocolate,” she said.

“Oh, I don’t know. You could probably twist my arm.”

She laughed, but something deep inside fluttered at the words. “How do you stay looking so…” Perfect, gorgeous, lickable… “healthy?” she asked, managing to keep her eyes locked on his face and not his body, where they really wanted to be.

“Oh, you know.” Flexing, he kissed a biceps. “I lift.”

“Yeah?”

“No.” He took another bite of chocolate. “I’m too lazy. I do hike a lot, though. Ara made sure we grew up to appreciate the outdoors. Kind of had to, living up here.”

Maggie smiled. “Sounds like you and Zane had good childhoods.”

“We did. I don’t know what we would have done without A. Most likely would have been farmed out by the state. Foster home after foster home. That’s what happens.”

“Candi said you were babies when you came to live there?”

He nodded, staring into the fire.

“What happened to your parents?” It was direct, but at this point Maggie didn’t know any other way to be.

“My mother died during childbirth with Zane. My father was sick. He passed away a few months after she did.”

Maggie swallowed the hard, uncomfortable lump in her throat. She could almost see them as babies, dealt such a cruel hand at such a tender age. And she suddenly wanted to hug Ara. Not just hug her, but hold on to her like a little kid might. Around the middle for dear life. “I’m so sorry,” she finally said.

He shrugged. “It is what it is. We got lucky with A, for sure. She’s my mother’s sister. She raised us the best way she could, never let us forget our parents. We grew up hearing stories, seeing pictures. She did a good job.”

“She did.” That’s an understatement, Maggie thought, watching the man sitting across from her. She did an amazing job. “So you came to live with her, and then Candi did, too.”

“Yeah. Candi came when she was thirteen. She was a mess. Would have broken your heart. But she’s tough. She rose above it, and A turned out to be the mother she never had. Taught her almost everything she knows.”

“And you and Zane grew to be family, too.”

He smiled and looked up. “I guess you could say that. I grew to be family. Zane grew to be something else.”

Maggie poked at the fire with a stick, sending fresh sparks into the air. “She told me how she feels about him. Does he feel the same?”

“Their relationship is complicated. They’re very passionate, but you probably guessed that. They fight a lot. But they make up a lot, too.”

Maggie flushed. Hearing him talk about sex was having an embarrassing effect. All of a sudden, she was warmer than she should have been. She shifted and unzipped her fleece a little.

“It must have been hard on Ara,” she said, eager to change the subject. “Raising three kids on her own. Was it always just her? Was there ever anyone else?”

“Pretty much. No husband. No man, other than Jim, and he’s just a friend. He’s been working for her for a long time. He never helped out with us directly, but he’s kept the place afloat for years. Anything goes wrong, he fixes it. There’s nothing the man can’t do. Plumbing, electricity, carpentry, you name it. If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t have been able to keep the Inn. My parents left it to her in their will, and I know there have been times when she’s wanted to do other things, travel, explore. But she has a deep sense of loyalty. I think she feels she’d be letting them down if she ever left.” He cocked his head to the side, cracking his neck. “Anyway, Jim’s been a godsend.”

“I’ve seen him working around the yard. I’ve never talked to him, though.”

“Don’t expect to. He’s really shy. I grew up with the guy, and I can count the number of conversations I’ve had with him on both hands.”

“The strong, silent type.”

“Yeah, and he’s crazy smart. My aunt has a lot of respect for him, and it’s not just because he’s been there for so long. She knows him better than anyone in Wolfe Creek.”

“I’m glad she has someone. Something about her being there by herself makes me sad.”

“Me, too,” he said.

They grew quiet, staring into the fire that crackled with a little less vitality now. Every few minutes an owl would hoot from somewhere in the canopy of evergreen branches above.

When Maggie looked up, Koda was watching her.

“What?”

His expression was unreadable. The firelight played over his face, making his eyes look even darker than before.

“Nothing,” he finally said, getting up and brushing off his jeans. “I’m tired. Gonna go to bed.”

Maggie glanced at the tent behind her. Army green and no frills. She knew the sleeping bags that waited inside were equally simple. But quite frankly, she didn’t think she’d ever seen anything so suggestive. She’d known that they’d be sleeping next to each other of course, but hadn’t let herself think about what that might mean. Until now.

She looked up at Koda, who stepped over the log she was sitting on without a second glance.

“What about the fire?” she asked.

“Let it burn. It won’t hurt anything and the extra heat will come in handy for a while.”

He picked up the battery-powered lantern and unzipped the tent, crouching low to step inside. Maggie eyed the yawning black mouth of the forest, which seemed somehow closer than before.

“Wait for me.” She scrambled off the log and climbed into the tent just in time to see him peeling off his gray thermal shirt. The lantern light illuminated his smooth, hard chest, where his nipples puckered like small brown stones. Maggie looked away.

“Oh…uh…” She stood up, squashing her head into the top of the tent. “Aren’t you going to be cold?”

“I can’t sleep with clothes on.”

“Oh.” She sat down awkwardly, still unable to look at him.

Tossing the shirt in the corner, he lay down and pulled the sleeping bag over his chest.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I won’t bite.”

Maggie laughed a little too quickly. It was like she’d never slept next to a smoking-hot, naked sheriff’s deputy before.

“Are you going to keep that jacket on?” He watched her with one arm crooked under his head, obviously amused.

“No. I… No.”

“I won’t look. Promise.”

He turned away. She waited for a second, then hesitantly unzipped her jacket. Outside the tent, the fire was dying to embers, but she could still feel its lingering heat on her skin. She fished around in her pack for the old college T-shirt and yoga pants she’d brought as pajamas and glanced at Koda again, making sure he wasn’t looking.

Heart pounding, she wrestled out of her jeans and top, almost falling onto her face more than once. Only when she was tucked securely into her sleeping bag, pj’s and all, did she take her bra off through the armhole of her shirt. She stuffed it into her pack and wriggled into the comforting down like a baby chick.

“Okay. All done. You can look now.”

Smiling, he rolled over and propped his head on his hand. “I thought you might have brought another parka to change into.”

She grinned. The sleeping bag was pulled strategically to her chin. For all he knew, she could be naked, too. The thought teased her senses. Made her warm in places she’d forgotten existed.

Her gaze dropped to his shoulders, which were angular and strong. Tawny skin stretched over lean muscle and sinew. And then she looked away. What was wrong with her? The air between them was charged. She shifted in her sleeping bag, aware of a mild throbbing between her legs. It was as if someone else were lying here next to this man. Someone with more of a right to. A woman who was more feminine and experienced. Not skinny little Margaret Sullivan with the wiry hair and crazy freckles. She was a girl. Maybe always would be. Not a woman. And she had no idea what to do with this situation that had presented itself like something out of a high school fantasy.

She closed her eyes for a second, heady with the scent of the man beside her, of the forest, of the campfire. She was conflicted. She was supposed to hate this place. Was supposed to hate everything about it. And yet, she didn’t. Part of her wanted to hate it, but she couldn’t quite muster the effort anymore. It was growing on her. He was growing on her, and had been since the day he’d walked through the doors of the Arrowhead Café two weeks ago.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low.

She opened her eyes to see him staring at her.

“What?” Instinctively she knew something was about to happen between them. He was too quiet. Too intent.

He reached out to smooth her hair away from her forehead. His hand was warm and rough on her skin.

“I’m proud of you,” he said.

She took him in. The curve of his mouth, his impossibly long eyelashes, the steady pulse at the base of his neck.

“Proud? Why?”

“You’re very brave. But you have to know that.”

He took his hand away, and she wanted to cry out. Wanted to beg him to put it back. But she just lay there.

“I’m not,” she said. “I’m a coward.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I never should have left that night. I never should have left without her.”

“That’s not realistic and you know it. There was nothing you could have done here.”

Maggie’s throat ached. She studied the top of the tent, the clean, crisp lines of it. “She asked me never to leave her.” She looked at Koda, trying to keep her voice steady. “In the car on the way down. She said it out of the blue.”

Frowning, he waited for her to go on.

“And I did leave. When she needed me most, I went back home.” Her eyes filled then. “I love that you say I’m brave. I want to be, but I’m not. I’m just not.”

He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “But you came back. Not many people would, and you did.”

“Are we ever going to find her?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I hope we do. Her family deserves closure. You do, too.”

“I don’t know what I deserve. Why her? Why her and not me?”

“I don’t think there has to be a reason. I think she was the one who went to use the bathroom at that exact moment, and you didn’t. I think it’s just that simple. You can’t blame yourself.”

“I know,” she said. “I know it doesn’t make any sense to feel that way. But deep down, I can’t help it.”

“You experienced a major trauma, Maggie. Even though you escaped without being hurt, doesn’t make it any less traumatic. You need to give yourself time to heal. You need to give yourself permission to heal. Stop punishing yourself for things that were out of your control. What happened to Aimee was the fault of whatever sick bastard took her. Not yours. Not anyone else’s.”

His face was drawn, his brows furrowed.

“How’d you get to be so smart?”

“I’ve been a cop for a while.” He smiled, relaxing a little. “They train you for this stuff.”

And then, before she had time to wonder whether or not it was a good idea, she leaned forward and kissed him. A light kiss on the side of the mouth, lingering there for just a second. Long enough to taste him. And then she pulled away, shaking her head. This would complicate things. A lot. And maybe things didn’t need to get any more complicated, no matter how much she wanted more of Koda Wolfe. Sensible Maggie, she could almost hear Aimee say. What a buzz kill.

“I’m sorry. I’m—”

Before she could finish, he was kissing her back, pressing his heavy body against hers through the sleeping bag. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, basking in the feel of his hair against her bare skin. He was a good kisser. Slow, confident. He coaxed her mouth open and touched his tongue to hers.

He kissed her like that for a minute, maybe two, long enough for her to want to shed the sleeping bag completely. She wasn’t cold anymore. Far from it.

When he pulled away, she was breathing hard.

“Why would you be sorry for kissing me?” he asked, his voice husky.

“It might change things… I didn’t know if you’d want to again.”

He shoved a hand through his hair, making it stand straight up. “Are you kidding? It’s all I’ve been thinking about for the last seventy-two hours.”

“Really?”

He bent and pressed his lips to her neck. “Really.”

She exhaled slowly as he began moving south, kissing the hollow of her throat and then her collarbone, moving his lips in such a way as to coax muffled sounds from her.

He stretched the neck of her T-shirt a little and touched his open mouth to just above her breasts. Gasping, she arched her back.

“You know, I wouldn’t want to pressure a lady,” he said. “But I might be able to get to second base without this in the way.”

It was dim in the tent, but she could make out the expression on his face and it gave her butterflies. He was fantastically gorgeous. And he wanted her.

Reaching down, she pulled her T-shirt over her head and tossed it in the corner. The night air was chilly on her exposed skin, but she barely noticed.

He dipped his head and breathed softly over one breast. She closed her eyes, feeling her nipple grow hard in response. Then he breathed over the other, before teasing it with his tongue and drawing it into his mouth. She moaned, wanting more. Needing more.

Outside the tent, a coyote yipped. Another answered not far away. Mates, maybe. Calling to each other from across the darkness.

Koda unzipped the sleeping bag down to her hips. She ran her hands along his lean, muscled back, which was warm and smooth as beach glass. He sucked in a breath as her fingers played across his rib cage.

Groaning, he pulled away. “I think we might be headed toward more than second base here.”

She lifted her head off the camp pillow and kissed his neck. “I’m okay with a home run if you are.” And there she was again. That woman Maggie didn’t recognize as herself. The one about to have sex with someone she’d only known a few weeks. That Maggie was naked from the waist up, huddled in a tent on the side of a cold, dark mountain.

Koda unzipped his sleeping bag and held it open. “Come here,” he said.

Maggie stared at him, his face bathed in shadow, his body taking the shape of something out of her dreams. Strong, lithe, surreal.

She wriggled out of her yoga pants and tossed them in the corner with her shirt where they seemed destined to be. Shivering with anticipation, she crawled in next to him, still unable to believe what she was doing. It had been so long since she’d been lost in anything other than misery, that she was tumbling now, headfirst into this decision, and toward this man who was waiting to catch her with his arms open wide. Whether it was right or wrong, she no longer cared.

She lay down next to him and had to clamp her jaw together to keep her teeth from chattering.

“Cold?” he murmured against her temple.

“No. Just nervous.” That was true. She was hyperaware of every single inch of his skin. The smooth, bare chest, the muscled thigh sprinkled with rough hair, the erection that was hot and hard against her hip. He smelled so good, almost like the mountains themselves. Fresh and clean. And suddenly she had a vision of what it would have been like a hundred and fifty years ago. Not in a tent, but inside a narrow dome made of sun bleached animal skin. Lying on fur, maybe wolf, maybe coyote. Koda’s hair would have been long, like Zane’s, and smelling like rainwater. Maybe he would have spoken to her in his Native tongue. Erotic and low, his voice mingling with the sounds of the woods around them, alive with the rustling of animals and birds.

Maggie closed her eyes, seeing this just as clearly as she felt his breath on her jaw now.

He moved his hand down her side, his fingers tickling the sensitive skin of her belly, and then her bikini line.

“You’re beautiful, Maggie,” he said, his voice almost lost in the tangles of her hair.

She caught her breath. He touched the inside of her thigh, resting his hand there until she arched her hips and shifted toward him.

“Please,” she whispered.

Slowly, agonizingly his fingers finally found her, slick and wet. She whimpered as he moved them over her swollen bud again and again, teasing her, bringing her close to the edge, but not over. Not quite yet.

She opened her legs wider. He kissed her neck, bit her earlobe, then slipped a finger inside. Crying out, she turned her face into his chest, which was damp with sweat. His breathing quickened, along with her heartbeat. Like some cosmic entity had synced them perfectly.

“Oh my God,” she said, kissing the thick, salty column of his throat.

He fumbled in his pack, until she heard the crinkling of a foil wrapper. And then felt him put the condom on beside her, could feel his hand against her thigh, rolling it down.

And then he was moving on top of her, and she was spreading her legs open, inviting him in, feeling no shame, no regret.

His biceps shook with the effort of keeping his full weight off her, but she wanted to feel it. Wanted to feel everything.

She traced a delicate line down his rib cage, over his narrow hips and underneath, where she wrapped her fingers around his warm, velvety length. He groaned and twitched once, his muscles tensing. She moved her hand up and down, making him harden even more.

Spreading her legs farther, she guided him toward her. And then he was inside. She arched her back and cried out, unable to help it. He bent his head and found her mouth, muffling the sounds she made. She kissed him back, so consumed with emotion and physical pleasure, that she trembled.

“Maggie,” he said against her lips, thrusting deeper, deeper. And it was then that she realized the void she’d been living in these last few months was gradually beginning to change. There was light where there hadn’t been before. She could feel it, like sunlight after a long, dark winter, warm on the lids of her eyes.

He thrust again, and she rose to meet him, their lips touching briefly. Outside the tent, a sudden breeze rocked the trees overhead and rustled the grass around its nylon edges. A coyote called again, lonely and distant, and this time the other remained silent.

Maggie brought a leg around the backs of Koda’s thighs, unable to get close enough. The climax built inside her, like a wave of electricity, from the core of her belly and radiating outward. It sparked and crackled, touching her in places that had been dead for a long, long time. Her fingers found his shoulders and dug in, holding on.

When she cried out, it wasn’t the feeling she would come to remember, so much as the moment itself. As if they were frozen in time. A time that wasn’t the present, but not really the past either. It was somewhere in between. A place where there was no such thing as loneliness or loss. It was a place of magic and moonlight.

Where anything was possible.