Page 18 of Snow River

“No, I told you I couldn’t see the knife-thrower at all.”She folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at him.“You’re taking my blip very seriously.Do you really think it’s evidence?”

“I wouldn’t call it evidence, no.But I also wouldn’t call myself a cop anymore, so it doesn’t matter.”He winced, realizing that he’d released that bit from his personal vault of secrets.

She didn’t react to his slip, which he appreciated.“Well, I suppose it’s worth a try.At the very least, I get to watch a big studly guy throw some knives.”

10

Sweet mama,the man was a work of art.Lila could have watched that smooth arm motion, that flick of his strong wrists all day.Every time he raised his knife-wielding hand over his head, his thermal shirt rode up and she caught a glimpse of taut muscle under bronze skin.

She had to keep reminding herself that she was supposed to be doing more than just admiring his stunning physique.Working at The Fang, she’d seen him carry two cases of liquor at a time, one on each shoulder.She’d seen him lift heavy tables out of the way of her mop.And of course, lately she’d had the good fortune to watch him chop firewood.So she knew how incredibly fit he was.But she’d never gotten such a close-up, front-row seat to this spectacle.

A knife thudded into the ground just past a tall cottonwood, and he turned to her expectantly.

Right.The knife.

“I’m sorry, it went by so fast.Can you do that one again?”

Focus.

“I can do it more slowly.Maybe the knife thrower was going for accuracy more than force.”

She brought up the image in her mind.“It was both.He wanted both.Oh!”A distinctly male energy shivered through the memory.“It was a him.I didn’t see him, but it feels like a man.”

“Okay.Making progress.”He strode toward the knife, which was barely visible in the leaf litter of the forest floor.“Let’s try this one again, but slower.”

She watched the blade flash through the air, long and lethal.

“It’s not that one.It was much shorter and kind of stubbier.”

“Like a Bowie knife?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

He crouched next to the box and pulled out a knife in an embossed leather case.When he pulled it out, she felt a shudder run through her.“It could be that one.Whose knife is it?How do you have all these knives?”

“Some of them are mine.Brownie Flynn has a big knife collection and let me borrow a few.This one is his.”He rose to his feet and pulled it from the case.“Ready?”

She nodded, then watched it launch toward the cottonwood.It fell just short.“Not that one.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”He strolled toward the spot where it had landed.“Do you want to try throwing them?Maybe that will give you another perspective.”

The knife in her blip had been viewed from off to the side.She didn’t see how throwing one would help.But the offer was too tempting to refuse.When else would she get the chance to throw knives in the autumn woods with a bronze god of a man?

She stepped toward him and accepted the knife he settled into her hand.She shivered at the weight of it, then turned it over to feel the solid heft of the hilt.Well-balanced.Maybe…comforting.It made her feel strong.

Bear positioned himself next to her, so close she felt the heat from his body.He’d taken off his overshirt after about ten knife tosses, and a fine sheen of sweat dampened his skin.She inhaled deeply.Smells were important to her, especially when it came to people.If someone’s personal smell wasn’t to her liking, she tended to avoid them.

But Bear had always smelled good to her, and still did, even in his sweaty state.

“This is a knife designed for hunting.Are you right or left-handed?”he asked her.

“Left-handed.”

“Then put your left foot forward, right foot slightly behind.You want to stand up straight, but stay nice and relaxed.Hold the knife like a hammer.Good.”

He adjusted her grip.She ran her tongue across her lips.His nearness was making her dizzy.Maybe she shouldn’t be throwing knives when she was under the influence of Bear Davis.She already knew this knife wasn’t the right one—something about it was different, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.But she didn’t want to interrupt the flow of this lesson.

“You’re going to aim for that rotted stump over there.It’s a nice soft, big target.Hard to miss.You got it?”

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