The Awakening: Britton (Entangled Covet) (6 page)

Couples.

Not
mortal enemies.

She took a right turn that led up a steep hill. As they crested it, the terrain flattened. A small cabin with

the word “open” flashing in the window came into view. This must be the office.

As she parked the car, Val let out a slow breath.

Here went nothing.

Britton popped open the door and jumped out, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt hiked up to

reveal a very toned, very appealing stomach. She froze with one foot planted outside on the gravel and one

inside the car and couldn’t look away.

Just as she had, he’d changed his clothes. But unlike hers, his attire should be considered indecent. His

jeans rode too low on his hips, and the Carolina Panthers T-shirt was one muscle ripple away from busting

at the seams. Add in the damned leather jacket, and Raquel’s reverently spoken desire to lick him up one

side and down the other had never rung truer, even to Val.

Damn him.

His arms lowered and his head popped back down to the door window, one eyebrow raised. “We don’t

have all day, Calhoun. Get your head out of your ass.”

Double damn him.

After she shoved out of the car, she made her way to the front door without a word, Britton following

behind her.

As soon as they stepped inside, an older woman greeted them with a grin. “Welcome to Lover’s Nest!”

Britton passed her, walking up to the desk, one side of his mouth tilted in a crooked smile. “We have

reservations for Michaels.”

The woman clapped her hands together and pressed them to her chest. “Oh! The honeymooners!”

Val would have laughed at the momentary slip of Britton’s normally arrogant expression if she hadn’t

been as stunned as he was. Harwood had said a couple. That was bad enough. But
honeymooners
?

Well, that was just a big flip of the middle finger to the sanctity of marriage, wasn’t it?

Britton recovered quickly. “Er…yes.”

His jaw tightened as he wrapped an arm around her waist and yanked her against him, knocking the

wind from her lungs. Literally. The feel of his forearm against her lower back sent disturbing tingles over

her body. She struggled to make her lips curve up, which made her worry the attempted smile came out

more like bared teeth than an actual smile.

Yeah, they looked the perfectly happy couple.

The woman gave a nervous laugh. “Do we have some wedding night jitters?”

You’re supposed to be a loving couple
.

Shaking herself, Val put on her most mischievous smile and half wrapped her body around Britton’s,

trying to ignore the way he shuddered against her and how his fingers suddenly bit into her side. “Anxious,

is all. We’ve…um…delayed things.”

Understanding dawned on the woman’s face. “Oh! Oh yes. I’m sure you’re anxious to be alone.” She

riffled around behind the desk and produced some keys. “You’re in the Fireworks cabin. It’s more private

than the others. More off on its own. You’ll go to the top of the mountain past a cluster of other cabins. It’s

the last one. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.” He grabbed the keys from the woman, latched onto Val’s hand, and hauled her along

behind him. As soon as they were out of sight of the woman, he released her and moved to the front of the

car with his back toward her. She could
see
the quakes raking through his body before he scrubbed both

palms over his face then shook his head, making that sound men tended to make when trying to control an

emotional breakdown.

Was the man about to cry? Or was he in pain?

“Good gracious, are you okay?”

He froze, his head snapping up and then he snarled—snarled!—before yanking open the passenger

door, slipping inside, and slamming it closed behind him.

Alrighty, then.
She wordlessly got back into the car, cranked it, and pulled onto the road, all the while

aware of the rigid man sitting beside her, staring straight ahead.

They passed a cluster of cabins and climbed higher into the mountains. Thick trees surrounded them.

Yeah, the manager was right. It was definitely remote.

Finally she parked in front of a small log cabin. A little too small for her taste. Not that she expected

luxury, not on the PD’s dime, but a little more space between Britton and her would’ve been appreciated.

Before she’d even opened her door, he had shot out of the car and was inside the cabin.

She followed slowly. As she walked in, the first things she noticed were the vaulted wood ceiling and

the huge wall of glass that gave a spectacular view of the mountains. A leather sofa was placed in front of a

stone fireplace with large flat-screen TV above it. Off in one corner was a pool table. The kitchen was part

of the living room, complete with stainless steel appliances and deep cherrywood cabinets.

Double French doors led to a deck. She walked across the room and peered out. On it were a gas grill, a

hot tub, and an outside fireplace. Not too shabby.

She continued her appraisal of the interior. Another door revealed the bedroom. She scowled at the

king-size bed positioned in front of a third fireplace.
One
bed. Looked like someone would be sleeping on

the couch, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be her.

From behind a closed door, a shower turned on. At least she’d get a few minutes alone.

With a groan of frustration over the whole stupid situation, she strode to the kitchen table and tossed

her purse on top, then stepped out onto the deck and into the chilly air. She wrapped her arms around

herself and leaned her elbows on the railing, staring unseeing out across the beautiful mountain landscape.

They’d worked together in the past. It hadn’t been pleasant, but she’d done her job.

As long as she kept her focus on the case, and not him, she’d get through this, too.

…

Britton let the water stream over him as he leaned his forehead on the ceramic tiles behind him. The

moment he’d put his arm around Val, his insides had begun to shake with the need to distance himself from

her, but when she wrapped herself around him, every fiber of his being had shuddered in disgust. It’d

taken everything inside him to stand there and not shove her away.

He’d never touched her before…or her, him.

And he didn’t want it to happen again. Ever.

He hated recoiling from her, hated the way his body flinched at physical contact with her. Or the

aftereffects.

In the car on the way up here, the moments in front of the clerk had replayed over and over in his mind

like some horrific movie loop, and the same reaction came over him every time. It was weird. Unnatural.

Visceral. And always immediate.

He hated his weakness when it came to her.

Why did she affect him this way?

When it came down to it, Val was a respected member of the community. She wasn’t unattractive. She

had friends, even if they weren’t many, which he threw in her face often enough. She did her job well, as

much as he hated to admit it. And she had helped find his friend. If it hadn’t been for her, Liam and his

mate would most likely be dead.

Dea
knew what kind of afterlife Val had saved Liam from in Anavrin. Since his buddy had
fewsed

himself to his mate, but Ava hadn’t reciprocated the bond, there had been a possibility that if he’d died, he

would have spent his eternity in utter torment, aware on a physically painful, emotionally anguished,

visceral level that his mate was lost to him forever. How fucking horrifying was that? But Val had stepped

in and rescued them, Ava had bonded herself to Liam, and they were now anticipating their eternity

together, so happy it was almost sickening.

So he
should
have a modicum of appreciation toward Val.

He didn’t.

Everything in him wanted to call Harwood and beg off the case. Get away from her.

But that wasn’t an option.

He sure as fuck didn’t want to spend the next sixteen years in Kerker. If learning to deal with that

woman was what he needed to do, then he’d learn to deal.

After he got out of the shower, he quickly dried off. Had Val been any other woman, he would’ve

sauntered around the cabin in just his towel. But she wasn’t, and the last thing he wanted was to tease her.

He put on his old clothes. At least the shudders were gone. Maybe now he could concentrate on the

case.

Stepping out of the bedroom, he found Val on the deck.

She turned as he entered the great room. Their eyes connected and once again that unnerving shiver

racked through him. He schooled his expression, put as much relaxed swagger as he could in his steps, and

approached her.

Pretend.

You’ve done it for years.

But not with her…alone.

She quirked a brow. “The quicker we start the faster we finish.”

So she was just as ready to get this over with as he was. Good. Maybe the distaste wasn’t all one-sided.

“I agree. Let’s start with the cabin where you found a piece of Charlie’s blanket,” he suggested.

Nodding, she stepped back into the room. At her advance, Britton stiffened, which she didn’t miss, and

her brows furrowed. Then she slammed her hands on her hips. “What the hell is your issue with me,

Townsend? This”—she waved her hand at him in exasperation—“is childish and ridiculous.”

Actually, he couldn’t agree with her more. He’d always thought it was ridiculous. Never understood

why he simply couldn’t control his body’s reaction to her. “I don’t like you.”

A mock look of surprise crossed her features. “No-oo! Really? I’m
so
hurt.” She stormed past him and

snatched her keys off the table. “Get it the hell together and act like a professional, would you?”

She slammed out of the cabin and a few seconds later her car’s engine sputtered to life. Britton shoved a

hand through his hair. So much for having the upper hand. As long as he couldn’t hide his feelings she

would always be one step ahead of him, whether he was her superior or not. And that infuriated him.

He followed her and yanked open the driver’s side. “I’m the lead detective in this case. I’ll drive.”

She stared at him a moment, then her lips pursed and she raised her hands from where they had

clutched the steering wheel. “By all means, drive.”

They traded places, then he put the car into gear and made his way back down the mountain. At the end

of the road, he silently groaned. Left or right? He had no clue. He should’ve just kept his damn mouth shut

and let her drive. She had to be eating up his moment of stupidity, which explained why she’d given up the

wheel without any fuss. He couldn’t even look at her and see that smirk on her face.

Her little happy toe dance in his peripheral was enough.

“Anytime, Townsend.”

Oh, he
so
wasn’t asking her. On the drive up here, she’d said she’d scouted around the cabin before

going back to the PD. The cabin was accessible from this road, but a fence barricaded the dirt road to the

cabin. They had not passed a gated dirt road on their way up here. He took a left onto the road. Her little toe

dance paused.

He suppressed a smile.

Ten minutes later, he parked the car and got out. Behind him, the passenger door slammed. They

followed the single car path that led to the cabin. A slight tinge started to hit his nose. Like fresh-cut grass.

“It’s a little early for mowing, isn’t it?”

She shot him a look. “Why do you ask that?”

“Can’t you smell it?”

She sniffed the air, then she scowled at him. “What piece of evidence did the council give you to

smell?”

“Nothing.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Nothing at all?”

“Not a goddamn thing. Why?”

She studied him. “The serum is working. And it’s true what they say, your sense of smell is better than

mine.” She shook her head and quickened her pace.

Stunned, Britton stumbled to a halt. Had she just given him an actual compliment? Shaking his head, he

trotted to her side. “How do you know the serum is working?”

Staring straight ahead, she tilted her chin higher in the air. “That’s Charlie’s natural scent you smell. I’m

picking it up, but it doesn’t smell strong. Definitely not so strong that I would believe someone had just

mowed their lawn.”

Holy shit, she
had
paid him a compliment.

Hell had definitely frozen over.

As she walked ahead of him, he studied her stiff shoulders. Man, that had to have cost her some serious

pride-swallowing to admit. But it said something about Val he hadn’t been aware of. He’d believed her

superior, holier than thou, but she wasn’t.

Val could give credit when credit was due—even to him.

And how had he repaid her?

By being a complete dick at every turn.

If she could be civil to him after the way he’d treated her, then he’d do the same, even if it was pure

torture.

He caught up with her as she entered the clearing. The decrepit cabin had been abandoned for years. As

he neared the steps, he stopped, concentrating, noting the slight trace of propane in the air. And then other