Evidence of Trust (12 page)

With the first brush of his warm fingers, she flinched. Cold air replaced the heat of his hands.

“Did that hurt? I barely touched you.”

“Your hands are cold.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Then, even the white lie made her feel bad. “It’s fine.”

The second touch of his hands spread the ointment from the base of her back along her jeans, up to her shoulder blades. Tingles spread along her skin as heat flooded her body.

“I’m not pressing too hard, am I?”

“No, it’s good.”

Better than good, his hands felt like magic as he kneaded the sore, strained muscles. Five minutes or so into the massage, she’d swear her bones were melting. The liniment had softened his work-rough palms and his firm manipulations eased the pain so skillfully, a low, appreciative groan slipped from between her lips.

When the sound registered, mortification left a hot sting in its wake. God, that had sounded like she was aroused. She was, but certainly didn’t want him to know.

“You okay?”

Joel’s husky voice sent another shimmer of sensation through her. She made a face into the privacy of her sleeping bag, then managed a “
Um, hm
.”

“Then relax,” he admonished. “Or none of this will do any good.”

Turning her face back toward the fire, she rested her cheek on the sleeping bag, blew out a deep breath, and willed the tension from her muscles.

“That’s better.”

No, not really. Because now she was beginning to imagine his sensual touch moving beyond her back. Wondered what he’d do if she rolled over and reached up to pull him down for a kiss. Her nipples tightened in anticipation of one of those rough palms skimming up to cup her breast. Problem with that line of thinking was she wouldn’t want him to stop with just a kiss, and Billy was right, she didn’t do casual sex.

Another moan threatened to break free. She needed a distraction
now
. “Tell me, how does one become a special investigator for the park system?”

His massage paused for a moment, then continued. “Be good at solving mysteries, pass a test, and be willing to travel.”

“So, you move from park to park wherever you’re needed?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, scratch that off my list of what I might do with my life.” She was joking, because after six years of college, there really wasn’t any doubt as to where she’d end up after the summer was over. No matter how many slips of the tongue she had.

“You don’t like to travel?” Joel asked.

“I do, but not
all
the time. That must be hell on your relationships.”

“I don’t do relationships.” His hands increased their pressure. “Too messy when I move on. Because I always move on.”

Kind of sounded like he was warning her, but she completely understood. “I get it. I’ve always planned to return to Chicago, so it’s easier to just make friends and have fun each summer.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a little hard to make friends when a lot of the people you work with start off as potential suspects.” His tone was light, but she suspected there might be a depth of truth to the joke he would not willingly admit.

“Sounds lonely.”

She felt his shrug through his hands. “I didn’t grow up with any siblings, so I’m used to being by myself.”

“Ah, ha. Only child explains your whole
my-way-or-the-highway
attitude.”

His hands stilled. “I’m not that bad.”

The hint of a smile in his voice encouraged her to tease. “Yes you are. Your parents probably spoiled
you
rotten.”

“I’ll have you know, my dad was very strict.”

“Then I bet it’s your mom’s fault.”

Tension practically exploded from his fingertips. “That’s another bet you’d win.”

She tucked her chin toward her shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of his face after that rough statement. “I take it you and your mom aren’t close?”

He tugged her flannel shirt back down to her waist and pushed to his feet. “No.”

She eased up into a sitting position and watched him over her shoulder as she buttoned her shirt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

A raised hand cut her off. “Just let it go.”

Whoa. Sore subject
. Firelight and shadow played across the angles of his face as he tossed a couple more pieces of wood on top the others in the pit, sending a shower of sparks into the air. She pulled on her sweatshirt, then her jacket to ward off the chill. Turning to face the fire, she remained silent while he rearranged the burning logs with a poker. His jaw was set in a rigid line, his movements stiff and jerky.

She waited until he set the poker down. Waited as he lowered himself down to his sleeping bag and settled back against his saddle. When he pulled his hat down to shadow his face in a clear indication he was going to sleep, she bit her tongue in an effort to keep her mouth shut. It didn’t work.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

He didn’t respond.

“Joel.”

His chest expanded as he took a deep breath, then blew it back out. “What’s the point of apologizing if you’re just going to keep at it?”

The words were as controlled as his breath had been. She didn’t speak again as she sat there watching him. Seconds felt like an eternity as she silently willed him to talk. One minute passed. Two. Finally, she slipped into her own sleeping bag and stared up at the stars instead of the hat concealing his face.

When she realized how badly she suddenly wanted to understand him, she took a mental step back. She was in dangerous territory with him. Considering how the summer would end for both of them, and probably even sooner for him, it was best if she didn’t reach a point where she understood the man any better than she had to.

Chapter 15

He’d slept like shit, and Brittany had risen early—too damn early. It was dark enough yet that she’d had to click on a flashlight for whatever she was doing. Joel slit his eyes open to see her reading the label on the bottle of liniment he’d used on her back. She set the bottle down and picked up her hairbrush to work the tangles out of her hair before twisting the silky mass into a thick braid. The back rub must’ve worked, because she moved with much more ease this morning.

When she stood and began a series of long, slow stretches, his pulse quickened and he closed his eyes tight.
Not already
. Last night had been as torturous as he’d imagined. Touching her without the freedom to explore all that soft, supple skin. He’d known he would be playing with fire, but couldn’t seem to help himself around her, and that bothered the hell out of him almost as much as when she’d asked about his mother.

A rustling sound prompted him to lift his lids enough to see her swing her backpack to her shoulder and walk toward the stream. Once she was out of sight, he rubbed the heels of his hands into his burning eyes and sat up with a low groan. Turning his wrist to peer at his watch in the dim light of approaching dawn, he frowned at the time. Where the heck was she going at five-thirty in the morning?

When it dawned on him she was probably taking advantage of the early hour to wash up in privacy, he lay back down. Didn’t take but a moment for the rogue memory of that kiss on the dance floor to ambush him. She’d smelled fresh as a summer rain with the sun shining. And apples. Her shampoo must be apple-scented because he remembered wanting to bury his face in those blond strands and savor the fragrance.

The memory drove him to his feet with a curse, and he sought distraction in stoking the fire and boiling water for coffee.

Another glance at his watch told him she’d been gone five minutes. When it reached ten, he stirred his instant coffee and paced to the corral. By the time he’d clocked a quarter hour, his impatience reached its limit and he strode back to the campfire to plunk his cup on the bench. The hell with privacy.

Quick strides brought him through the break in the trees, to the clearing on the other side. His gaze swept the area, uneasiness taking root in his gut when she was nowhere to be seen. He’d spotted a couple more signs that whoever had left those tracks on the trail had been this far. The grazed grass in the corral, a weathered boot print near the stream. The thought of her alone and unprotected had him seeking the reassurance of his gun in his holster.

He was about to call her name when he caught movement amidst the boulder-strewn incline on the opposite side of the clearing. All senses alert, he pinpointed the location, squinting to make out the shape until he recognized Brittany, climbing the rocky slope.

The sun was beginning to crest the tree tops, bathing the ledge above her in golden light. She took her time, and he realized she was snapping pictures along the way. She was so engrossed with her camera, he caught up in no time without her even knowing he was behind her.

“Where are you going?”

She gasped and whirled around. Her free hand flailed as she lost her balance and he lunged forward to keep her from falling. With her shoulder braced against his chest, apple freshness punched him in the gut.

“Careful.”

“I was fine until you snuck up on me,” she complained as she pushed away.

He kept a hand on her arm until he was sure she had her footing. “You weren’t even paying attention. Is there a reason your little climbing session couldn’t wait?”

She glanced toward the ridge above them. When she looked back at him, he noticed she avoided his gaze. “I wanted to see the sunrise, and you were still sleeping.”

Yeah, and he’d bet she’d counted on him remaining asleep until she got back. “Next time look closer. You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”

“I’m not that far from camp, and I’ve been up here before.”

He rested one booted foot on the rock in front of him, and one hand on his weapon for emphasis. “It’s far enough that I wouldn’t have been able to reach you fast enough if something happened. I had better things to do today, you know. I’m not insisting on the buddy system just for the fun of it.”

“Okay.” Now her gaze met his, solemn in the morning sunlight. “I’m sorry.”

That was unexpected. He gave a brief nod at her apology, then shifted to the side for her to go first. “Let’s go.”

“But—” She broke off with a gasp, eyes wide. “
Oh, my God
.”

Joel drew his gun while spinning around to follow her frightened gaze.

Less than fifty yards away, a tawny-colored mountain lion crouched near the stream. Brittany grabbed his arm in a death-grip, but when she raised her camera and stepped past him, he realized she wasn’t afraid, she was in awe. With her second step, he knew she’d keep going if he didn’t stop her.

He caught her shoulder, only to have her shrug him away. “Britt—”

“
Shhh
.”

The cougar’s eyes were mere slits as it lapped water from the frigid mountain stream that separated them. She snapped a picture, readjusted the focus, and snapped again. Since she’d stopped moving forward, he let her be. He counted eight clicks before she lowered the camera and simply watched.

Joel hadn’t taken his eyes off the cougar and estimated it to be almost six feet, from its nose to the tip of its twitching tail. His arm remained against his side, but his grip was tight, index finger flat along the barrel of his pistol, ready to pull the trigger. He held his breath when the cat raised its head. The intensity of the predator’s unwavering stare made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Beside him, he heard Brittany’s breath hitch.

Finally, the cat moved swiftly across the rocks, powerful muscles rippling under its sleek coat as it disappeared in a stand of wind-stunted pines on the far side of the boulder field.

Joel let out a silent sigh with Brittany’s audible one. She twisted around to face him, excitement lighting up her face as she pressed a hand flat to his chest. “Can you believe that just happened?”

His heart thudded hard at the sight of her sparkling green eyes and that radiant smile. She stood close enough for him to feel her body heat, and the desire to haul her into his arms for a taste of sunshine and apples nearly overpowered rational thought.

Annoyed at the primal reaction, he grasped her wrist to remove her hand, and made no attempt to temper his rough tone as he holstered his weapon. “
That
is exactly one of the reasons you shouldn’t be out here alone.”

At the blunt reminder, the enthusiasm in her eyes morphed into resentment. She pulled free of his hold and took a step back. Just as he started to feel bad, she lifted her chin with a defiant smile and turned away.

“You can be as grumpy as you want, but that was amazing, and you’re not ruining it for me.”

She clicked through her digital pictures while he scowled at her back. The cat’s magnificence didn’t negate the threat it presented, especially considering it hadn’t appeared the least bit afraid of them. Cougars were known as the phantom cat for a reason—they typically did not let themselves be seen. He didn’t like that this one had.

“That mountain lion
was—and still is—very dangerous. You’d better hope he doesn’t get hungry anytime soon,” he warned. “Let’s get going.”

“Um…I don’t think he’s hungry.” She shifted her camera so he could see the picture she’d zoomed in on. “Looks like he just ate.”