Alpha Mountain Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3

Chapter 3-2

Not wanting to linger because, this time around, I didn’t relish being caught naked in Ford’s house–again–I finished up and used one of the towels I found stacked on a shelf to dry off. I’d probably have to take another shower at home with a ton of conditioner to untangle my bedraggled hair, but at least I was clean. I wrapped the sheet around my body and marched back down the stairs with my damp clothes. Ford was there waiting for me, but Kennedy had disappeared. So had Roscoe.

Ford took my things—with his eyes focused anywhere in the room but at me—and stalked away to the laundry room. When he returned, he took a mug out of the cabinet. “You want something warm to drink? We have coffee. No tea. Hot chocolate because Kennedy has a sweet tooth.” He raised an unruly dark brow. “So do you, if I recall.”

I ignored the liquid warmth that spilled into my gut at the fact that he remembered anything about me at all, other than the bedroom incident I wanted to permanently delete from both our minds.

“It’s a summer storm, not a blizzard.”

I had this inane need to prove to him that I was no longer the kid sister. He may be a former Navy SEAL, but I was damn capable myself. I led all kinds of wilderness trips during the summer and took outdoor adventurers on cross-country ski trips in the winter. In fact, during the busy season, I was in the backcountry more than I was at home. This rainstorm had caught me on a solo, for-fun hike on one of my days off.

He stepped closer, close enough that I had to tip my head up to glare back at him. “Well, you still look cold.” He brushed one finger over the goosebumps on my arm. His touch made every inch of skin on my body tingle. Every nerve-ending fire.

My lips parted, and I suddenly found breathing impossible.

“Come on, Indi. We don’t need to have a stand-off on whether you drink hot cocoa in my kitchen or not.” He still sounded gruff, but his tone was softer than before. Probably in the range of conciliatory for him. “Truce?”

Truce? Could I let what happened all those years ago just… go away? I wasn’t the same person I was then. Neither was Ford. He looked nothing like the clean-cut SEAL with that beard. It might be trimmed and neat, but I was sure it didn’t match Navy regulations or the man himself.

“Fine. Hot chocolate...” I swallowed down the unsettled emotions Ford brought out in me. “...sounds good.”

Still, I stepped back. A truce didn’t mean I wanted him touching me because I’d felt way too much with that one simple caress. Stupid, traitorous body.

He narrowed his eyes like this was an important point. “With milk or water?”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that tumbled from my lips. “Milk. I need all the calories I can get after today’s hike.”

He turned and pulled a gallon jug of whole milk from the fridge and poured it into the mug. “What were you doing out there alone?” He glanced at me over his shoulder as he popped open the microwave and placed the mug inside then turned it on.

I shrugged. “I prefer hiking alone.”

His brows popped at that. “Yeah?” He leaned back against the counter and folded his arms over his chest. He’d put a t-shirt on while I’d been in the shower, but the thin fabric didn’t hide how strong he was. How fit. He might’ve been out of the Navy, but there was no question he kept up with PT. He looked more lumberjack than sailor. Maybe he chopped wood for exercise. There certainly wasn’t any ocean to swim in.

“It’s better than entertaining a group of hikers for hours on end,” I explained then adjusted the sheet.

“With the outdoor adventure company in town.”

I shouldn’t have been pleased that he was aware of what I did. Sparks was a small town. Everyone knew everything about each other. But he and I hadn’t had a single interaction since he returned. As far as I knew, he’d been holed up here on his property like a wild mountain man. His grandfather had died a few years ago, so he lived here with his grandmother. And now, I learned with three other men.

Which seemed…odd. I hadn’t stopped to wonder what Ford was doing up here. Apparently, more than just living off his savings or the land. Especially if he had some kind of sensor or something that picked up I’d crossed his fence line. And the lock on the greenhouse. Who needed to lock up gym equipment five miles outside of a tiny Montana town?

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong—I’m grateful I can make a living doing what I love. But I don’t need a buddy on my days off.”

The microwave beeped, and Ford pulled the mug of hot milk out and emptied a packet of chocolate powder into it, stirring briskly with a spoon.

“I don’t like the idea of you out there on your own.”

I bristled. “I can take care of myself. I take sole responsibility for entire groups of hikers in the backcountry.”

“Don’t you have a partner with Sparks Outdoor Adventures?”

At the mention of Brandon, I grimaced. But color me surprised that Ford knew this much about my business. I ran that place more than Brandon did—everyone in town probably knew that. My name was even more synonymous with Sparks Outdoor Adventure than Brandon’s.

“He’s my boss, not a partner,” I said quickly. I was no longer sleeping with Brandon. That had been a short-term mistake.

Huge mistake.

I learned a very important rule: Never screw your boss, no matter how friendly, laid-back and easy-going he made everything seem. When things went south, work got really awkward. Even if I barely saw him at work. Brandon was having a perpetual temper tantrum since I told him I couldn’t handle a relationship. Right now or ever. I’d given him the old It’s not you, it’s me line. That I was still grieving Buck’s death and just couldn’t think about a relationship.

I just couldn’t think about a relationship with him. For so many reasons. He was a slacker for one. And since he couldn’t find my clit with a topo map and a compass, he’d left me unsatisfied.

Now he was talking about moving out of Sparks. Which meant I needed to figure out how to scrape together enough money to make him an offer on the business, or I’d lose my job. Sparks wasn’t plentiful in them, and I sure as hell wasn’t the type to work behind a desk all day.

“Oh, you seem more like a business partner. I heard you run everything over there.” Ford narrowed his gaze and studied me. “Wait—were you two—”

“It’s none of your business,” I snapped, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I see.” He handed me the mug of hot chocolate, and the damn sheet slipped when I reached for it, giving Ford a flash of nip.

“Jesus,” he bit out, eyes darkening. He turned abruptly away. “I’ll get you one of my shirts.”

I couldn’t keep from smirking as he stalked out of the kitchen. Did my bare breast just fluster the unflappable tough guy, Ford Ledger? The guy I lusted after for all of my teen years? The one who I equally craved and despised?

Could it be… Ford did find me attractive? All these years, I’d thought he’d been repulsed when I’d offered myself up that long-ago night. He’d cursed and covered his eyes and snarled at me to get out of his bed. Of course, it hadn’t helped that Buck had been right behind him and had seen everything. Literally, all of me, which was gross.

Buck—the asshole—had hauled me out to my car telling me I’d acted like a slut. The next day, he’d given me some stupid sexist lecture on how guys didn’t respect girls who threw themselves at men. Even though I’d tried to shake it off, the scars both of them left on me still festered to this day.

But what if Ford hadn’t been repulsed? What if he’d been… tempted?

Maybe it had been my brother’s presence that made it awful and weird. Maybe it hadn’t been all me. Then why was he still being an asshole? A truce was one thing, but he’d taken my clothes. Sure, I was stubborn, but still. He was grumpy and intense and moody. And hot.

I took a sip of the hot cocoa and moaned softly. It totally hit the spot. Ford was right, I was still cold—I hadn’t stayed in the hot shower long enough to really warm up, and my hair was still wet.

He returned with a Navy—the organization, not the color—t-shirt and a pair of boxers.

“Thanks.”

I set the mug down, and he reached out.

I slapped his hand away, surprised.

He wasn’t reaching for my boob, but my pendant about my neck.

He held it in his fingers, eyed it for a time.

“I was with Buck when he got this for you,” he said, his voice low. He studied it as if remembering the event. It was gold with decorative filigree and a blue center stone on a simple chain. I glanced from it to Ford. He was so close, I had to tip my head back. His eyes were so blue but cold. The beard had flecks of red and a thin scar sliced through the tan on his forehead.

He smelled of man and sunshine and some kind of soap. Like pine and leather.

“I… I never take it off,” I admitted, swallowing hard. “It was the last thing he gave me. The last mail we got from him.”

He offered a small nod. “We went to a bazaar in town about three weeks before—”

Before he’d watched him die. Before Buck had been identified as a murderer, and it was determined that if he’d lived, he’d have been brought up for court-martial. I tugged the sheet up around me as if it could protect me from the hurt of losing Buck and what he’d done. But Ford had been there, beside him when he’d thought of me from thousands of miles away. To fight beside him. To die in his arms.

He let go of the pendant, and I went into the bathroom tucked under the stairs to change. I needed a minute, and so did he. I wiped away tears as I pulled his shirt on. It was huge and so were the boxers, so I rolled the waistband down until it held above my hips. When I returned, Ford sat at the kitchen table next to the place where I’d placed my mug. His gaze raked over me from the top of my head to my bare feet.

The scene looked halfway invitational, so I pulled out the chair beside him and took a seat. If I was hurting from Buck’s death, Ford had to as well. He’d held Buck as he’d died, and I had to remember he might be big and strong, but he was still a man.

“What are you doing these days, Ford?” I asked, channeling my mother and her skill at small talk.

He toyed with the napkin holder in the center of the table. The furnishings appeared mostly the same as I’d remembered. The sunny yellow wallpaper here in the kitchen. I could see the lace doilies on the armrests on the couch in the living room. He might be in his thirties, but he was living with his grandmother. While she wasn’t in the house right now, her presence was everywhere. Here on their land and also in town. She was a well-loved, active woman. I wanted to be like her when I was eighty.

“Security work.”

I didn’t know what answer I’d expected, but it wasn’t that. “What does that mean? Like a bouncer at a bar?”

His ever-present frown deepened. He ran a hand over his beard, and I instantly wondered how it would feel against my inner thighs. “No.”

I waited when he didn’t elaborate.

“Like special ops for hire,” he finally added.

Oh. Whoa. I should’ve known Ford would still be a bad-ass, even after he left the Navy. It made sense.

“Hence the security-rigged fence and greenhouse. And that’s why Kennedy is here with you.” I’d been trying to sort that part out, but now it made sense.

He nodded. “The guys and I live in my grandfather’s old workshop. We converted it and added on to make it a bunkhouse. Our main base is here, but we travel all over the world for jobs.”

“Other guys? You said four of you live here. Are they also from your team?” I didn’t know why it made my heart both spin out and speed up to hear about Buck’s old team members. To know they were still operating without him. That some had settled here in Sparks. I felt both connected to them and completely left out. I hid my face in the hot cocoa, surprised by the unexpected emotions.

“Yeah. Hayes and Taft are here, too. I’m building a new team. A few others will join when their contracts are up,” he said, instead of answering my question. “Business is… brisk.”

The kitchen suddenly seemed quiet. It took me a moment to realize why. I glanced out the window to confirm it, past the yellow gingham cafe curtains. I jumped to my feet. “Well, the storm has passed. I’ll get out of your hair.”

Ford opened his mouth then closed it, scrubbing a hand across his beard again. “Yeah. Okay. I doubt your clothes are dry, though.”

“That’s okay,” I said quickly. I needed to get out of this place. Away from Ford Ledger. Away from the memories. He brought up far too many emotions in me that I’d rather not delve into. “I’ll stop by later for them?”

“You’re not going out dressed like that,” he said, looking me over. “You’re not even wearing underwear.”

“I can do whatever I want, Ford.” I crossed my arms, suddenly noticing the air on my very bare lady parts. “Remember that.”

He sighed and murmured something under his breath, something along the lines of f**k me. “I’ll drop them by your place. Of business,” he clarified quickly, making me want to kick him in the nuts for making it so abundantly clear he wasn’t interested. Like I hadn’t seen that momentary look of hunger when he caught sight of my breast. “I’ll drop them by your place of business tomorrow.”

Whatever. It didn’t matter—I wanted nothing to do with him either.

I’d already grabbed my knapsack from the counter and was shoving my bare feet into my muddy boots by the back door. I hated that he followed me and stood there like he had something he wanted to say.

“Thanks for the hot chocolate,” I said in a rush, finishing the second lace. “Let’s not do it again soon.”

“Bye, Blue.”

I stumbled at his use of the childhood nickname he’d given me. His deep rumble echoed after me as I took off at a jog, not caring that I was out hiking in a pair of boxer shorts and Ford’s oversized t-shirt or that my car was still a couple of miles away. Or that my panties and bra were in his dryer.

I’d left his place half-dressed before. I’d fled once. It seemed I was doing it again.