Alphas in the Wild (32 page)

“Maybe I’m not as independent as I figured,” she muttered and stirred salt into her stew.

Her thoughts shifted to Jared. What had he left behind? He’d mostly listened to her story. She had no idea about him, beyond his research firm. Maybe she could get him to share a little bit about his life over dinner. He was damned attractive, but maybe he had a wife or girlfriend. Hell, he probably had kids. He was plenty old enough to have that part of his life in hand.

As if her thoughts had drawn him, she heard Jared’s footsteps and Jake’s whine that meant he wanted inside. She hurried to the door, and then felt foolish. It wasn’t locked. She wanted to see Jared, and the knowledge made her uncomfortable. She’d carved an independent life. No reason to alter that.

It’s logical to want to see him. We’re the only ones left.

I don’t know that,
the other side of her mind argued.
Where there are two, there are likely more.

Beyond logic, her heart gave a funny little flip as she laid her hand on the doorknob and pulled it open.

“Hey there!” He grinned and moved aside so Jake could bound into the cabin.

The dog sat by his empty dishes and barked, tail thumping the floor.

“You have water,” Sara told him.

“Aw, we could give him some kibbles. He might not have found anything after you shooed him away from...” Jared hesitated.

“It’s okay.” Sara picked up the dog’s dish and scooped kibbles out of a sack she’d opened earlier when she was arranging things in the cabin. It was a small space, and she’d filled the cellar until it would be a challenge to locate things. What didn’t fit spilled over into the main living space.

She dumped the food into Jake’s dish, and he bent his head, chomping noisily.

Jared unzipped his jacket and hung it on a hook. He checked the woodstove and tossed a couple chunks of wood into it. “Anything I can do to help with dinner? It smells great, by the way. Thanks for taking care of it.”

“Least I could do.” She smiled because she couldn’t stop herself. “Only thing I didn’t rustle through was your pack. You must have food.”

“Oh, that I do. I probably broke a bunch of laws riffling through the bear boxes at the North Lake campground. Took as much as I could carry.”

“I’ll never tell. Sit.” She gestured at the small table. “I’ll dish us up.”

He tugged a water bottle out of one of the side pockets in his pack that she’d propped against one wall and drank deep before pointing at the pump. “Water okay to drink?”

“It comes from the creek. Probably. All the horses left this station a couple weeks before the attack.”

He moved to the pump and refilled his water bottle. “Since you mentioned the attack, you said you had dispatches. You could tell me what’s in them, or I could look through them over dinner.”

“I don’t mind sharing what’s in them, but...” Heat rose to her face. “I was hoping you’d tell me about yourself. You found out a lot about me, but all I know about you is what you do for a living.”

A smile began in his eyes and spread to his mouth. “Sure. So long as you do the same. All you really described was how you ended up trapped in the Muir Hut and making a run for this station. I can look at the dispatches anytime.”

“Fair enough. We can play you show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.” Her face grew warmer. “Crap! I didn’t mean it to come out quite like that.”

His grin broadened. “It sounded fine by me.” He stopped by the stove and peeked into the pot. “Is it ready? I’m hungry.”

“Yeah. Told you I’d dish up.”

“I know you did, but I don’t need you to wait on me.” He picked up one of the bowls she’d laid out and ladled stew into it. Then he did the same with the other bowl and held it out to her. “Come on, Sara. Let’s eat.”

They settled at the table and tucked in. She was hungry too, and didn’t pepper him with questions until they’d begun on their second bowlfuls.

She caught his gaze. “Where do you live? And what do you do when you’re not working or in the backcountry?”

“Would you like me to start at the beginning so you don’t have to feed me questions?”

“Sure. That would be great.” She took a drink from her water bottle, waiting.

“I live in San Francisco. Moved there to go to medical school and never left. My residency was in internal medicine and pathology, and I worked in the path lab at City General for six years, most of that for the government. They paid for my med school, and I owed them service.

“Got a few ideas about how to address some of the worst diseases. Also brainstormed a bunch of fertile possibilities to stave off the aging process. On a whim, I floated them past some venture capital firms, and no one was more surprised than me when offers for funding began rolling in.” He shrugged.

“The rest is history. I opened Donovan Enterprises, and it’s done well enough for me to employ several people. We have—or had—some boutique cures in the FDA’s pipeline. If even one of them panned out, it would’ve made us all rich. We were actually planning an Initial Public Offering for our company in the next few months.”

“So you would’ve been on one of the stock exchanges?”

“Exactly.” He cocked his head to one side. “You know. Give John Q. Investor a chance to share in the spoils.”

Sara pushed back enough from the table to cross one leg over the other. “Where’d you grow up? Do you have family?”

“Oh.” He rolled his eyes. “Funny how I always leave out the personal stuff. Long habit.”

“Know what you mean. You don’t have to answer—”

“No. I want to. I grew up in Portland. Both my parents died quite young from cancer, which was why I was so interested in studying it on a cellular level. I have one brother. He’s a dentist and practices in Seattle.” He angled his head until his gaze met hers. “Never been married. No kids. No dogs, but I was contemplating changing that.”

“So you have a fiancée?” She forced the words out. Wanting to know, but not.

He threw his head back and laughed. “No. What I was considering changing was getting a dog. I’ve always been way too much of a loner. Not that I didn’t have girlfriends, but no one ever shared my obsession with the backcountry.” He winked at her. “That was always one of my make-or-break requirements.”

He got to his feet and carried their bowls over to the stove. “Do you want more?”

Sara shook her head. She was outrageously pleased by his answer about no fiancée, and trying her damnedest to hide it.

“Me, either.” He pumped water into their dishes and left them on the roughhewn counter next to the pump.

She started to get up.

“Hold up there, sister.”

“What? Why?”

“Well.” A slow lazy grin made him heartbreakingly gorgeous. “We got the
me showing you mine
part over with. I’m waiting for the quid pro quo.”

H
e stood by the pump watching her. Did she have any idea how striking she was? Now that her body wasn’t covered with layers of cold-weather clothing, the lines of her full breasts were outlined beneath her stretchy top. Her uniform pants fit snugly over a trim waist and slender hips. He’d bet her legs were shapely with muscle.

His cock stirred to life. He moved back to his chair to hide the errant part of his anatomy.

A lovely rose color crept up Sara’s face. Thank God her gaze was above his waist. “Um, okay.”

“Not used to talking about yourself, either, huh?”

“Uh-uh. Goes against the grain.”

“I’m a patient man. Take your time. Too bad we don’t have snifters of brandy. We’ve got the roaring fire and the dog.” He angled his chin at Jake, curled up between his dishes and the woodstove and twitching in his sleep.

“Not sure about brandy, but there is booze here.” She cast a sidelong look his way. “Are you picky about what kind?”

Jared snorted. “Once upon a time, yeah, but I’ll take whatever’s available.”

Sara got to her feet and plucked a headlamp from where it hung on a nail next to the cellar door. “Give me a minute. Stuart liked his liquor. Said it helped him pass the time.”

The sounds of her rooting about beneath the cabin’s floorboards were interrupted by the
clink
of glass as she set bottles on the floor in front of the opening. He stood and moved to the growing pile of liquor bottles.

“Hey, Sara. That’s plenty.”

“There are other varieties down here.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’d rather have your company. There’s more hooch here than we could drink in a month.”

“Good.” Her head appeared as she climbed up the ladder. “Guess it’s one thing we won’t run out of.”

“It’s a good disinfectant too.” He offered his hand to help her up the last few steps. She clasped it briefly before turning to close the cellar door.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that.” She glanced at the collection of bottles. “Pick your poison.”

“Scotch okay?”

She shrugged. “Sure. Not much of a drinker.”

“Neither am I, but I do appreciate brandy of an evening. Are there cups?”

Sara walked to the cupboard on the wall cattycorner from the stove and opened it. Cups, bowls, a first aid kit, and tools came into view. She handed him a cup and took one for herself before shutting the cupboard.

Armed with the scotch bottle, he joined her at the table. A cot was pushed against one wall. He’d already decided to offer to sleep on the floor. No way he’d take her bed, even if she offered it. Once they were settled, he poured a couple fingers of amber liquid into each of their glasses. “Your turn.” He repeated his earlier words.

She took a contemplative sip from her mug and made a face. “Geez but that shit burns going down.”

“You’re stalling.” He drank from his own mug.

“Probably so, but there isn’t all that much to tell. My dad was a Park Ranger in Yosemite. Mom died when I was about ten, so it was just the two of us. I always wanted to follow in his footsteps, so I majored in a field that was likely to get me a job—”

“What field was that?” he cut in.

“Ecology and wildlife management. Ranger jobs were scarce, so I did a stint in the military, mostly to learn to fly helicopters. Once I got out, the Park Service hired me, and it’s where I’ve been ever since.”

He waited, but she didn’t say anything further. “Well?” he urged.

She took another drink. “Well, what?”

“Same questions you asked me. Is your dad still alive? Are you married? You don’t wear a ring, but that doesn’t always mean anything.”

She glanced at her hands as if to corroborate the absence of a wedding ring. Color stained her face again, and she blew out a breath. “Dad is alive, but he has Alzheimer’s and is in a home in Fresno. No husbands. No kids.” She glanced away from him. “I’m gone too much for relationships. No one would put up with it.”

He almost blurted,
Hey! That’s really good news
, but managed to keep the words inside.

“Nothing more to tell,” she went on. “Not really. I own a house in Three Rivers and Dad’s house in Fresno is deeded to me. It’s worth a lot, and I don’t guess I really need to keep working, but I love it back here.” She spread her arms expansively. “To get paid to do something I love is such a plus. I figured I’d hold onto my post until they tossed me out.”

He reached across the small space between them and captured one of her hands with his. “I understand that part because I love the wilds too.” He paused, thinking. “Not that I don’t appreciate my state-of-the-art lab, but out here is where I feel truly alive. Connected to something bigger than myself.”

She raised her gaze to his and smiled warmly. “I feel the same, and that might be a good note to turn in on. While you were taking care of Lonnie and Stuart, I pitched my tent out back, and my bag and pad are there. You take the cot, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Oh, hell no.” He sprang to his feet. “I’ll bring your bag back inside. I can sleep in your tent, but it’s better if I lay my foam mat on the floor in here.”

“I already decided—” she began, also on her feet and moving toward the door.

He didn’t consider his next move. He just closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “So did I.”

He expected her to pull away from him. Instead, she turned in his arms and laid a hand on each side of his face. “You’re a pretty man, Jared. Too pretty. We need to get to know each other a whole lot better before—”

He closed his mouth over hers, cutting off her words. He had no idea where his sudden burst of courage came from. He wasn’t generally forward with women, usually waiting to be damned sure they were interested before he made a move.

She tightened her fingers on the sides of his face and opened her mouth beneath his. She tasted of the liquor they’d shared as she teased his tongue with her own. He ran his hands down her back and snugged her against his growing erection. Though his cock had subsided earlier, arousal returned with a vengeance. Her nipples pebbled where they pressed into his chest, and her breath quickened.

Evidence of her arousal stoked his own, and he explored the hard, muscled planes of her back and buttocks with his fingers.

Time dribbled past. He drew away, stroking strands of dark hair away from her face. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.” She smiled softly. “But this is enough for now. I really am going outside to my bed now.”

“No. You’re not.” He stepped back, aiming for a return of rational thought. “It’s not safe. What if someone comes looking for Lonnie and Stuart?”

“They’re not going to show up in the middle of the night,” she protested.

“How do you know? We have no idea how their physiology operates. For all we know, they could have exceptional night vision.”

“How?” she countered. “Reptiles are cold blooded. They go into a kind of stasis at night. The other half—or whatever percentage it is—is human. How do you get sharp night vision out of that combination?”

He bit back a laugh. “I thought I was the scientist.”

“Then think like one.”

“I am. I’m also going outside to retrieve your sleeping bag.” At the look on her face, he stopped and moved his hands to her shoulders. “I promise to behave, and we truly are safer inside.”