Page 25 of Mountain Man Grinch
“God,” he chokes out.
“Need you back here. Give Callie my sincere apologies.”
“Done.” The line goes dead.
Callie is Mateo’s bride. They married a few months back after she showed up on his doorstep as a mail-order bride. But theyhad to wait until now for their honeymoon. I feel like shit ending their joy early, but this can’t wait.
I pocket the phone and turn back inside.
Arielle is sitting by the fire, wrapped in my blanket, watching me like I’m the only thing in her world.
And God help me, she’s the only thing in mine.
I kneel in front of her, take her hands.
“It’s almost over,” I promise. “I swear it.”
She leans forward, presses her forehead to mine.
“I believe you,” she whispers.
Her breath warms my lips.
And even with two men in the snow and danger still stalking the edges of the storm, one truth settles deep in my bones.
I’ll kill for her. I’ll die for her.
But more than anything,I’m going to live for her.
Even if I have to tear the whole damn world down to keep her.
Chapter
Seven
ARIELLE
Davin holds me on the bed, refusing to let me look at the blood trail through the small cabin. The metallic scent still clings to the air, thin but unmistakable.
He rocks me gently, whispering words of comfort. Somehow, oddly, I’ve never felt safer or more insistent on never letting this mountain man go.
Outside, the storm seems to blow itself out, giving way to soft falling flakes. They cover the ground, almost washing away the death, the scarlet stain of danger.
In the distance, heavy engines growl, drawing closer. Doors slam, metallic and hollow. Then, precise footfalls. I look up, watching trained Rangers sweep the premises, lasers sweeping through the swirling snow.
“Friendly forces,” Davin says, pushing the hair off my face, leaning in for a steadying kiss.
I look up and gasp. Wolfe fills the doorway like a force of nature. Clean cut, narrow eyes, a square-cut jawline, dressed in paramilitary camo. His gaze homes in on Davin and me, his brows furrowing, jaw tensing. Next, he sweeps the cabin, taking it all in.
Davin holds me close, doesn’t even try to hide what’s between us. He meant it when he said what happened last night was real, permanent. Warmth shuttles through me as I pull strength from him.
“Two tangoes down outside?”
“Yeah,” Davin answers. “Sol Rojo. Skull-sun throat tattoos. One self-terminated.”
“Fuck,” Wolfe mutters. “Haven’t seen their ink in months. Not since the takedown with Holden.”
“Out for vengeance. Nothing to lose,” Davin answers.
