Page 206 of Mountain Men Heroes

These days, the dark, wild hair and her almost golden eyes were the only things left that resembled that kid. She’d grown up, and her coltish limbs and chubby cheeks firmed and rounded in all the right places. Now she had soft curves and legs that went on for days.

If she were hard to say no to when she was a pesky eleven-year-old, the woman she’d become would be impossible to turn down.

Fuck. What kind of man had I become that I almost resented that fact? That I didn’t want to be left alone with a beautiful woman if it meant my closest friend had to leave my side?

I narrowed my eyes and shifted my gaze to Dyson. The grim set of his mouth told me all I needed to know. He was as eager to do her bidding as I was to have him do it. As in, not at fucking all.

He and I knew what was going on between us wasn’t normal. Not like we talked it out. But hell, it was hard to miss the fact that we both went a little crazy when we were out of each other’s sight.

And we both knew why. The FUBARed mission that left all the men we’d been sent out with coming home in closed caskets.

Except the two of us.

We’d been sent ahead of our unit to scout things out. We’d returned to find the remnants of our buddies. Nothing I’d experienced before in all my years in the military prepared me for what had been done to those men.

The only break I got from the walking nightmare was the relief that came knowing Dyson had been with me, watching my back. I hadn’t left him behind to suffer the fate the rest of our unit endured.

The sense of relief did nothing to help the feelings of guilt that plagued us. We had to live with the knowledge that we came home and the rest of our unit did not.

The guilt, the horror, and the relief formed a greasy ball of anxiety that lived inside me. The only time I felt halfway normal was when I had Dyson by my side, a constant reminder that he’d made it out alive.

But I’d come to rely on him to an unhealthy degree. The same way he’d come to rely on me.

Which brought us to here and now, and me with my blood frozen in my veins at the thought of Dyson fulfilling a pretty woman’s simple request. I fought for breath as I waited for Dyson’s response.

“Why don’t we see if Eeli gets your truck going? Then we’ll follow you down the mountain and take you to lunch, sweetheart.”

Thank God. Dyson made it all sound so reasonable. We both knew it was far from that, but for some reason we both seemed dedicated to maintaining at least the illusion of normalcy.

I caught movement from the corner of my eye and turned to look back at Clara. She stood slowly and brushed a hand over her delicious, curvy ass, cleaning grass from the back of her tiny denim shorts, before moving closer to us. I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from offering to do that job for her.

Fuck me. I needed to get a grip. Wouldn’t matter if I couldn’t get my head on straight if Sawyer ever found out the thoughts I’d had about his baby sister. He’d solve my problem by knocking it clean off my shoulders.

“I still have to get up to the lodge and look for that dog. I’m not sure I can wait too much longer.” She looked up at Dyson and, I swear, the mischievous minx batted her eyelashes at him. “I’m starving, Dyson and I know you guys love a good burger.”

I waited for Dyson to throw another roadblock in her way. Instead, a low growl came from deep in his chest. Startled, I swung my head around.

Dyson stared down at Clara with an intensity I didn’t understand. His jaw locked and his posture went rigid.

“Please, Dyson,” she asked softly, giving him her flirty head tilt again.

My heart started beating erratically in my chest. I held my breath as I waited to hear Dyson’s response.

“Fine,” he finally bit out.

“Thank you!” Clara jumped in her spot, bringing my gaze to her full breasts as they bounced beneath her black V-neck shirt. The sight was almost enough to forget my desire to keep Dyson by my side at all times. Almost.

I shot a look at Dyson and he looked back at me, his face grim as Clara rattled off an order.

“I won’t be long.” Dyson squeezed my shoulder as he walked past me on the way to his truck. It was all I could do not to throw myself at his feet and beg him to take me along.

Clara and I stood side-by-side in the middle of the road, watching as Dyson executed a three-point turn. He hit the gas so hard as he pulled away, gravel spit up from underneath his tires. All I could do was stare after him as dread filled my chest.

I turned and made my way back to the truck, my movements choppy and disjointed, like I was walking through a pool of water. I picked up a wrench and stared down into the engine. A wave of hot nausea churned in my stomach, and suddenly my vision was filled with images of that day—blood and flesh and bits of gore, bodies torn to shreds, faces almost unrecognizable.

Except now, with Dyson not within my line of sight as proof he’d made it out with me, the faces became easy to identify. All of them were Dyson. I could see him in the face of the soldier with half his head gone. It was Dyson’s vacant eyes that stared back at me from the lump of flesh that was once a soldier. I gripped the edge of the truck and I could feel the trembling start to move through me.

That wasn’t the only thing moving through me. Adrenaline-fueled rage spiked through me. Fear and anger and helplessness, mixed into a gurgling cocktail leaving me thirsty for the blood of an enemy thousands of miles away from here.

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