One Night with her Bachelor(9)

Her hips jerked, and they moaned against each other’s mouths.

“Gabriel,” she whispered.

“Mmm.” He couldn’t speak. He’d thought they would connect, but he hadn’t expected the connection to feel like he’d touched a live wire.

She ran her fingers over his chest, each touch leaving a wake of lusty shivers running through his body. She scraped her fingernails into his temples and kissed him so hard, so deep, so long he forgot to breathe. Who needed breath anyway? He could share hers and die a happy man.

When she finally pulled back, she hit him with a look he’d never seen on her before. Intent and bold, it was the sexiest damn look he’d ever received.

“I knew it,” she said. “I knew it would be good.”

She was a smart woman. He’d never even speculated about it. How had he spent all that time around Scott and never once noticed his little sister for anything other than the unnerving way she’d stared at him? How could he have failed to notice the way her body had developed or the fact she was actually pretty cute? Maybe it was the age difference between them. Five years felt like a lifetime when he was younger. It felt like a blink now.

She traced his face with her fingertip, and he shivered. “What do we do now?”

“What do you want to do?” he asked. He had suggestions. Plenty. But this was her plan, her idea. She got to call the shots right now, unless she wanted him to.

Please ask me to. Now that he’d had a taste of what it would be like, he wanted to get to the really good stuff.

Her lips curled into a sultry smile. “Kiss me again.”

“Your wish…” He slid his hands into her hair as his mouth slanted over hers. Her arms looped around his shoulders, her breasts pressing against his chest. How long had it been since he’d been this close to someone? The last woman who’d touched him had been a hospital nurse removing the bandages from his leg for the last time. Molly’s sweet touch erased all the fear and fury he’d felt that other time.

She jerked her face away, her nails digging into his shoulders like talons. Her face blanched, and she stared at the radio.

“What—”

“Shh!” She slapped her hand over his mouth and leaned closer to the radio. “They just said Josh’s name, I’m sure of it.”

“…Both males are ten years old and camping with their scout troop at the Westridge campground. Last seen heading northwest on the Paradise Valley trail about an hour ago.”

Her whole body went as rigid as death.

“Are you sure you heard—”

She scrambled off his workbench, nearly knocking him over as she sprinted from the room. His balance wasn’t as good as it used to be—one more thing he was still getting used to. But he grabbed hold of the radio and took off after her.





Chapter Three





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When Gabriel caught up with her, she was on her knees in the kitchen ripping her backpack open. She fumbled with the zipper on an inside compartment. “My phone. I have to find my phone.”

“You won’t get a signal here.”

“I have to find my phone!”

She was panicked, and his bad leg stopped him from kneeling next to her to calm her down. All he could do was stand over her. He put the radio on the kitchen table and cranked up the volume. Taking her hands away from her backpack, he unzipped the pocket she’d been too shaky to undo, and he handed her the phone. She swiped at the screen.

“SAR has been notified. We’re setting up an operation center at the campground…”

Shit. Since the search-and-rescue team was all voluntary, it could take an hour for them to gather at the campground and start assessing the situation. The local SAR team was good—he’d listened in on plenty of their success stories over the radio these past few months. Chances were Josh was just hiding somewhere, scared he would get in trouble if he went back to his camp.

But if he needed help, then he needed it now.

“Please, please, please not Josh. Please.”

He laid his hand on her head, desperate to calm her down. “Molly, come here.”

She shook him off and rolled to her feet. “I need to get a signal.”

He bit back his reply. She wouldn’t be able to process information right now, so reminding her that she wouldn’t find a signal for miles was pointless. He followed her out of the house and onto the porch. Her attention was so far gone he called her name three times before she spun on him and screamed, “I have to find my son!”

He clasped her shoulders. “Then listen to me. Your phone is useless right now, and I’m not letting you wander into the forest looking for a signal. I have a dirt bike and can take you to the campground.”

Her fear was palpable. “Yes. Now. We need to go now.”

“I’ll be right back.” He went back into the cabin, something scratching at him. Instinct, maybe. Or habit, after a decade of heading out with all his gear. He still kept emergency equipment in a rucksack significantly lighter than the one he’d carried for combat search and rescue in Afghanistan. No body armor. No night vision goggles or portable Jaws of Life. No M4—though he did carry a sidearm. Just a bunch of rope, canvas, knives, some basic medications, and hiking and climbing equipment. He grabbed the bag.