Love By Accident (20 page)

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Authors: Michelle Beattie

BOOK: Love By Accident
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Three days too late. Three fucking days, Matt thought, as he leaned over the newest bear carcass. That's about how long he figured the animal had been dead for, though what the hell did it matter? Dead was dead. And poached.

"Nothing yet," Denis called over his shoulder, the metal detector infuriatingly quiet.

"Keep looking," Matt responded. Maybe the son-of-a-bitch had left something. Anything so they'd have a damn trail to follow. Up 'til now they had squat.

Matt had been saddling a horse to do some checking on the back country trails when Denis had radioed him. He'd felt sick hearing the news. Yeah, he'd known, or rather felt, the poacher was still around, but he'd hoped to catch him before any other poor animal turned up butchered. Matt knew the chances of that happening were next to nothing. The criminal wasn't going to be caught having a picnic by a stream, wearing a fluorescent orange vest with the words "poacher" scrawled across his back. Hell, the guy didn't want to be found. He'd know what was at stake: serious jail time. Still, it burned Matt's ass knowing another innocent bear had been mutilated for some sick jerk's idea of a good time.

Most poachers could afford the tag fees; it wasn't about a lack of money. It was the thrill of getting away with murder, of knowing they were doing something illegal. To guys like these, the bear was just a dumb animal, no big deal.

For Matt it was a huge deal. He loved everything in the Park, from the elk to the coyotes, and he took his job, his career, very seriously. He lived it, breathed it. And some selfish bastard had just spit on it.

Matt sat back on his haunches, let his blood-soaked latex-covered hands hang between his knees. He stared at the carcass. There was no doubt this time. The bear might have been dead for a fistful of days but the scavengers hadn't been in yet. It was clear whoever had done this had sliced open the belly and pulled the entrails out. The incision was far too neat and clean to have been caused by anything else. Had it been a predator, the skin would be torn or ripped. Plus, he'd searched and all the organs were still there. All except the gall bladder. But he wasn't giving up yet. It wasn't unheard of for the bullet to get stopped by the skin. He got back down on his damp knees and began to check.

"Nothing, Matt. It's clean," Denis said regretfully. His shoulders hung in defeat.

Matt sighed, feeling the weight of what they were dealing with resting heavily in his gut. "Can't say I expected you to find anything. The man's not an idiot. He knows how to cover his tracks."

"But now you'll get the word out? Let people know we have a poacher in the area?"

"You got that right. I didn't want to do it before because the carcasses were old and we couldn't prove anything, but we know now. We'll get it into the papers, make flyers, increase the rounds, take a little more time with these more secluded areas. Let's let the bastard know we're onto him."

It wouldn't be enough, though, to stop him. Men liked these didn't care about rules, about what was right. They only cared about themselves. They had no integrity. It would take more than getting word out and increasing patrol. What they really needed--

His fingers brushed something hard and Matt held his breath. Could it finally be that they caught a break? He slid his hand around, found what he was looking for. There, just underneath the hide of the bear's left shoulder, he felt the hard tip of a bullet.

***

Oh, man, Lauren was more out of shape than she thought as she struggled to make the rise on her mountain bike. Her legs burned. Her lungs heaved. Lauren looked up.
Almost there
. Pushing herself, muscles bitching under the extra demand, she pedaled her mountain bike farther. If she was going any slower the thing would tip over. A hawk soared overhead, silent as a breath, its wings not even flapping.

"Go show off someplace else," she wheezed.

Her hands were sweaty, and it wasn't all due to the knit gloves she wore. A trail of perspiration dripped down her spine into her lined track pants. This was pathetic. It wasn't even a big hill, more a slow incline up to Pyramid Lake and her hoodie was soaked, her breath was fast becoming endangered, and her legs were about ready to say "the hell with you, we're done".

The only thing that kept her struggling to push those pedals forward was knowing she used to ride mountain roads all the time, and she'd never,
ever
, pushed her bike up any of them. And by God, she wouldn't this time either.

She was aware of a few cars slowing to pass her, but the lake resorts were seasonal and closed until spring, so traffic was sporadic. It was something to be thankful for. She'd hate for too many people to see her right about now. Grunting, she rode to the top. Then, limbs trembling, she dropped her bike, flopped onto the shoulder of the road, and hung her head between her bent knees. Her heavy breaths mocked her. She couldn't believe she was so out of shape. When had that happened?

But then, judging by the boxes she'd had to move to even get to her bike, her lack of endurance shouldn't be a surprise. Still panting, she looked up at the rocky peaks, feeling a smile curve her lips. Even dripping with sweat and a healthy dose of humility, she hadn't felt this good in a while.

All thanks to Matt.

Having him in her life again, being friends once more, had helped her see what she'd been missing. Being with him again, she felt more herself than she had in years. She hugged her knees closer. Her house was getting some much needed upgrades, and so was Lauren. She was happier, and, starting today, she was going to be healthier too. From now on, the bike would be staying on the porch.

Granted with winter poking its nose around the corner, she wouldn't be able to bike for very long, but she had snow shoes and cross-country skis. She would work at getting her body back into some semblance of what it used to be.

Like it had been when she and Gil had raced their bikes through the trails in Kananaskis, taunting each other up the inclines then whooping like kids on a roller coaster on the declines. The wind had whipped at their faces, tugged at their shirts. Their muscles, used to the exertion, hadn't protested a bit. And after, at camp, they'd roast hot dogs over the fire and share a beer. She'd lean her head on Gil's shoulder, smell the wind and campfire smoke and feel a blanket of peace with the world settle over her.

Lauren, I'm sorry.

Hearing Gil's voice yanked Lauren back to the side of the road, far away from the coziness of a Kananaskis campsite. She leapt to her feet and hugged herself. It was silly, Gil wasn't here, and yet she could've sworn she'd heard his voice.

It had sounded exactly as she remembered. After he'd died, she'd feared, in the dark recesses of her heart, that she'd forget. Forget his smile, the way his eyes shone when he was happy, forget the way his laughter turned silent when he was caught in the throes of it, like he forgot to breathe. God, she thought, her heart catching, she
had
forgotten. Until now.

With trembling hands she removed her gloves. It wasn't until a draft swirled around her that she felt the warmth of the tears on her cheek.

***

Outside Matt's door, Lauren hesitated before knocking, still trying to tame the nerves twitching in her belly. It was surreal to her that the man she'd known for years and had always felt so comfortable around, now had her breath catching from one phone call. One phone call.

She'd been back from her bike ride and had been washing walls when he'd called, acting all mysterious. He hadn't said what he wanted, only that he wanted her to come over. For what, she didn't know. Breathing deeply, Lauren rapped beneath the small wooden plaque proclaiming this was apartment 204.

"It's open," Matt called.

Lauren let herself in, taking in the small but tidy apartment that smelled of Matt. It wasn't one particular scent, but a combination she knew she'd always associate with him. Leather, Hugo Boss, and mountain air. Feeling somewhat calmer, she draped her coat over the back of a kitchen chair.

"I'll be right out," he said from somewhere down a narrow hallway that shot off the kitchen. "Close your eyes."

What was he up to now? she wondered, but humored him all the same.

"Ready."

She heard him walk in the room, smelled his cologne and felt her heart fall into place.

"Okay, you can open them now."

Her laugh exploded from her chest before she could rein it in. "What the heck are you supposed to be?"

He frowned, looked down at his costume. If what he was wearing was indeed a costume. He had two small fans, one on each shoulder, whirring softly. He had no shirt, just faded blue jeans. In his hand he had a water bottle and he used it to spritz his chest.

"You can't guess?" he asked, looking at her.

Her shoulders were shaking and she pressed a hand to her stomach. "I don't think I can. I have no clue."

"You're killing me here," he said. "I'm hot."

"You're hot?"

He raised a brow. "Don't I look hot?" he asked.

He spritzed again and the water droplets clung to his chest like groupies to a rock star. And who could blame them? He had a beautiful chest. Firm pecs with dark brown nipples were covered by a light dusting of curls. Flat abs tapered to a trim waist. His jeans had the top button undone, just giving her a glimpse of navy briefs underneath. Oh yeah, he looked hot.

"Which definition were you after?"

He grinned now, the saucy curve of his lips letting her know he'd gotten to her and he knew which definition she'd chosen. He set the water bottle down on the table and came to her.

"Whichever one gets you to keep looking at me that way," he whispered.

The fans whirred louder when he closed the distance between them. The wind ran through her bangs and over her face. He cupped her cheeks and leaned in, taking her mouth in a hungry kiss.

She sighed and leaned into his warmth. Her hands slid up the damp expanse of his chest, drying the water with her palms. His skin was silky and his body was hard. Her hands took on a mind of their own and explored his angles, his muscles, drawing out moans of appreciation when her fingers flicked over his nipples.

In turn, his hands coursed down her back and further to stroke her ass. Lauren's mouth nibbled hungrily at his, wanting him more than she could ever remember wanting anything in her life. She pressed onto her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. Her breath hissed out when his arousal nestled where God intended. Matt leaned back, keeping his arms firmly locked around her.

"I would have tried this costume the first time if I'd known I'd get such a reaction."

Lauren smiled, feeling very feminine and very powerful. It was an intoxicating combination.

"It could get cold wearing that costume outside, though. Unless you want to turn into an icicle."

Heat poured into his gaze. "I think it's a little late to worry about my getting hard."

She fought to keep her gaze from skipping down and barely managed to win the fight.

"Lauren, do you want to take this further?" he asked, his gaze intense.

Her heart leapt in anticipation and a touch of apprehension. Like it was her first time. "I'm mostly sure."

"Well, it's not a no, but it's not an answer that strokes my ego either."

"I guess I'm still getting used to the idea of us being together. On one hand it seems so sudden, but on the other it feels..." She rummaged for the right words. "Exotic and thrilling. Like climbing a mountain for the first time."

Matt brought his forehead down to rest on hers. "Now that strokes my ego. I'm trying to go slow, to give you time, but I've wanted this for so damn long."

Her stomach flipped inside out. "I didn't know," she murmured.

"Now you do," he whispered before taking her mouth in a searing kiss and walking her backward out of the kitchen.

"Matt."

"Mmm."

"I'm not on the pill."

He stopped, frowned. "And I don't have any condoms. I'd meant to get some, but then I got busy and distracted with work." He shook his head in disgust. "Damn. I should have made time."

Lauren giggled. "I bought some, but I didn't think to bring any."

Matt stared down at her, his eyes smiling underneath eyebrows arched in surprise. "You bought some?"

She felt the blush burn its way up her neck. "Yeah."

He rubbed his knuckles over her jaw line. "Don't move. I'll run to the store and be right back." He swooped in for a kiss that left them both trembling. "I swear, don't move. I won't be long."

He headed for the door. Lauren called him back when he'd grabbed the knob.

"Aren't you going to get a shirt?"

He was still wearing the stupid fans, so he ripped them off, motors still whirring, and strode past her to his room.

Gil was there, sprawled on the bed, ankles and arms crossed like he owned the place. Matt shuddered, thinking what would have happened if he'd brought Lauren in and she'd seen Gil lying there.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he whispered, throwing a glance to the bedroom door.

"Enjoying myself. You?"

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