Page 5 of Hunted By the Mountain Man

“Later,” he calls after me as I glance into my rearview mirror, watching him wave.

ChapterThree

BEAU

The red-headed beauty with ivory skin and a faint peach blush disappears down the trailhead towards her car, her face bold and confident despite everything. I wanted to scare the shit out of her, warn her away from the HRT and Murrieta, altogether. Warn her away from me, too. But knowing her, I’ve had the opposite effect.

After a week of raptly watching Brynn, I can say with certainty that she’s drawn to trouble. Just like I’m drawn to her. Fuck, I’ve made a total mess of this assignment.

Still, I go through the motions of dialing the satellite phone to speak to my client.

“Forester, give me some good news.”

I grunt, uncertain I can do that. “I made contact with your daughter today and spouted plenty of shit to scare her away from the HRT and Murrieta.”

“And she took the bait?” Henry Lovelace sounds tired more than anything. I know he’s had trouble sleeping this past week, knowing his daughter’s staying and recreating in a town mere hours away from announcing the opening of a double homicide case. A case that’s awfully reminiscent of a string of serial killings from a couple of years ago.

I rub my hand over my face. “She left right after I threatened her, which I took as a favorable sign.”

“Did she say whether she’d be leaving for good?”

I explain, “I didn’t really portray myself as the kind of upstanding guy a woman traveling alone would give her itinerary to.”

“Makes sense.”

“But tracking her, warning her … what you hired me to do is done.”

“Much appreciated. I’ll wire the rest of your money this afternoon.”

“Nice doing business with you.” I end the call.

This is it. The end of caring about Brynn Lovelace…

So, why does the finality of it put a tight knot in my throat and a deep ache in my chest?I don’t fucking know. But then there’s been a lot I haven’t known since first laying eyes on her.

In terms of job difficulty, I’ve never made easier money. I’m a hunter and outfitter by occupation, and Brynn’s the easiest prey I’ve ever tracked. But in less than a week, she’s become so much more than an assignment.

She’s the reason I look forward to getting up in the morning. The woman I think about unceasingly throughout the day. The object of my dreams at night. The dark, unsatisfied need that claims me when I jerk off alone in the shower.

I thought I was a man past needs like this. I’ve spent the better part of adulthood denying my wants and desires, making my life gray for strategic and tactical purposes. Blending in so that trouble never knows where to find me. Becoming the gray man who observes life rather than lives it.

Brynn is everything I’ve eschewed. Lively, vibrant, bold, confident, and so damn hot the most innocent thoughts of her burn me alive.

If anything ever happened to her, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, which made what I agreed to do for her father bearable. At first. Henry Lovelace is friends with Vengeance County’s sheriff, William Baker. So, when Henry needed to find a man to track his daughter and scare her off the HRT, I was the guy.

I get where he’s coming from, especially with two missing hikers leaving the town on edge. He claims he can’t get Brynn to listen to his warnings, and I believe him. I’ve seen enough of her stubborn boldness to be simultaneously concerned and filled with a deep and abiding admiration. But another part of me feels scuzzy and unscrupulous, having manipulated her like this.

You had to do this, Beau. Just think about the two missing hikers.Eyewitnesses of their last known destination said the women weren’t alone at Lake Florence, although they had trouble describing the man in any concrete way. Dark blond or light brown hair. Unknown eye color. Nothing memorable or remarkable.

A little over two years ago, Ted Wesley Craven, an upstanding high school teacher and veritable paragon of society, ended up dead after pursuing and attempting to kill the investigative journalist exposing his dark deeds. Turns out the man was a serial killer, preying on female hikers in national and state parks across California.

The nation breathed a sigh of relief, believing Craven’s death brought a tragic chapter of California history to a close. But if the two missing hikers turn up deceased with clear signs of foul play, Sheriff William will have a media firestorm on his hands. As if Craven has risen from the dead.

William will need my help as a private investigator and tracker on the case. I’m good at finding bodies, a grim skill nobody wants but law enforcement needs. The timing of wrapping things up with Brynn is perfect, with the missing hikers case really starting to intensify. I don’t have time to shadow her anymore, acting as her guardian angel, as she put it.

But all the logic in the world, all of the thoughts about good and bad timing, don’t negate the fact I need Brynn Lovelace down to the very marrow in my bones. It’s been a long fucking time since a woman captured my attention this way, all feminine curves and that sexy-as-fuck combination of sass and strength.

Watching her for a week has forged an even stranger intimacy. I know so much about her that I shouldn’t. She loves extra creamy oat milk and lavender lattes for breakfast, and she makes the French toast from the Paradise Inn’s breakfast buffet into intricate little castles, complete with bacon drawbridges and syrup moats.

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