Page 92 of Love Me Dangerous

If it’s some backwoods lab, then my assignment just got a lot more dangerous. I think of the dingy little trailer I saw in that hollow. By the time the sheriff got out there to look, it was gone.

Stu rocks forward in his chair and levels me with his stern gaze. “With winter coming, Sheriff Olson thinks they’ll be trying to get as much product through the mountains as possible before the snow shuts everything down. That doesn’t give us much time.”

He doesn’t need to spell it out.

“I think they come straight to the ranch.”

“How? You have security cams and drone patrols and enough fencing.”

He nods at the map. “There’s a way. We just haven’t found it yet.”

After my meeting with Stu, I leave his office and head for the garage. What I want to do instead is stop by the Childcare Center, even if I only pass by the window, so I can see Sofie.

That I can’t puts me on edge.

While I descend the grassy knoll to the garage, I slip my phone out of my pack and type out a message.

Can I see you tonight?

It’s only been twelve hours since we parted ways outside her house, when one goodbye kiss melted into another, and another, so that when we finally pried ourselves apart, I was breathless and hard as a rock.

My cock twitches in my work pants as if remembering my painful drive home and my restless night.

The phone buzzes with an incoming message.

I’m free after Dad gets home

Come over

Yeah, it’s demanding, but I can’t help it. Maybe after months of avoiding any form of human contact, I’m making up for lost time.

Okay

A pulse of heat thumps through me and my mind buzzes with anticipation. I could kiss the phone.

Inside the garage, I check out one of the ranch trucks and set my thermos and day pack on the passenger seat, then partially unfold the map so I can plan my day.

The little Xs marking evidence of trafficking are located in the low country, along creeks and near dense woods—places with good cover. The sites of the illegal salt licks are in more rugged terrain, and higher. Game trails weave and intersect everything. It makes me wonder aboutRowdy Whittaker’s poacher. Are the salt licks connected? It chafes that I can’t ask him.

There’s something about how all these different routes cross that’s bugging me. I open the map and study it again, but the detail slips away.

It’s a gorgeous day, with big, puffy white clouds drifting in the pale blue sky, their shadows rolling across the gentle foothills. Stu’s warning about winter’s imminent arrival is a reminder that days like this are numbered.

I take the service road past the residences and follow the fence line, bracing myself over the ruts. The road skirts the ski area where, lately, Finn River Ranch staff have been working on the lifts. Crews of half a dozen guys in black work pants, leather mechanic gloves, and Madras work shirts climb up and down the towers, prepping for the upcoming ski season.

It could be a good job for the winter. I like being outside. I’m good with my hands and I don’t mind getting them dirty.

My thoughts drift to Sofie and how I’d rather spend my winter tuningherengine.

That she’s never been treated right is a serious thorn in my side. How does her mom’s abandonment fit into all of this? Was she feeling bad about herself, and Gabe came to her rescue? Only instead of being the hero she needed, he made her feel worse.

Fuck that guy. Though Sofie insists he’s never hurt her, he hasn’t done her any favors, either. Why would he, when manipulating her into staying with him gets him what he wants?

Sofie’s strong and resilient. Determined. Passionate. Caring.

She needs someone strong to care back. Someone dependable.

I scrub my face with my hand, but my longing to be that someone doesn’t quit.

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