Page 7 of Second First Kiss

“Can you come get me? I’m at Sunrise Falls.”

“I’m already here. At the base of the trail.”

There was a long pause where she was certain Tessa was doing some quick math that equated to caught red-handed.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a few?—”

A loud pop blasted simultaneously through the phone and the blackness of night. A sound so violent it felt as if the ground beneath Kat’s feet vibrated. So terrifying her heart stopped mid-beat.

“Was that a gunshot?” she asked, but Nolan was already on the move. Weapon drawn, protect and serve in full effect, he disappeared into the night.

2

ANational Park Service special agent who worked for the investigative service branch, Nolan Carmichael could navigate this forest blindfolded. Good tool to have in his belt, since once he slid under the dense canopy of sequoias and sugar pines, not even a sliver of moonlight could penetrate. But sneaking through the mountains blindfolded and sneaking around when someone had a loaded weapon were two different things.

“This is off-duty Forest Service officer Nolan Carmichael,” he whispered into his phone, rattling off his badge number. “Shots fired at Sunrise Falls. I repeat. Shots fired. Plainclothes agent on scene. Send backup.”

Without waiting for a response, he pocketed his phone and made his way north, toward the bottom of the falls, where the shot came from. The same area he knew high schoolers gathered to build bonfires and party.

Anger and frustration laced through his body, but he shut it down, instead converting the energy to a laser focus. This wasn’t the first time they’d been called to this location as of late. Three weeks ago a group of partying teens got their hands on some bad ecstasy and two ended up in the hospital. Both kids made it, but they never found the dealer.

Which was why he was out there on his night off. Nolan got a tip that his prime suspect, R. J. Locke, was hosting a party at Sunrise Falls. The tip also included that R. J. had been bragging about getting his hands on a gun.

Sure, every town had its drug problems, but for the most part, Sierra Vista kids were using more marijuana than molly. But lately the landscape of these parties was getting out of hand, which made Nolan even more determined to solve this case and get the dealer out of the picture before someone got seriously hurt—like his former partner, who, during a raid on a lab, ended up taking a bullet to the shoulder. It shredded his rotator cuff on his shooting arm and put him out of commission.

Nolan had tried to make things right, even giving him a job at the lodge helping to oversee security. It was the least Nolan could do to make up for leaving his partner high and dry.

Sierra Vista was, for the most part, a small town with small-town problems. Located at the base of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and bordering both the California and Nevada state lines, the town attracted people from around the globe who wanted to enjoy the breathtaking views of Lake Tahoe and the year-round activities. With so much of the town surrounded by federal forest land, any crimes committed outside city limits fell under the jurisdiction of the US Forest Services.

And even though this case was shared with a special task force, made up of the US Forest Service and the local sheriff’s department, Nolan treated this case as if it were his alone to solve. He understood the value of teamwork, but his partner had been shot on Nolan’s watch and that made this case personal. Which was why he was out there on his night off, because he got a tip that his prime suspect, R. J. Locke, was at the party and packing.

While his brothers teased him that he was a glorified park ranger, working in the Investigative Service Branch, in reality Nolan dealt with everything from poachers to illegal drug growers. But the kind of drugs that were making their way into his hometown was a whole other kind of trouble.

Heart rate slow and steady, hearing fully attuned, Nolan waited a moment for his eyes to acclimate to the dark, then carefully started his way up the hill. He hadn’t moved more than three steps when the crunching of leaves sounded behind him. Weapon drawn, he spun around and aimed at the shadow between the trees.

“Put your hands up where I can see them.”

The person didn’t raise their hands, instead dug them defiantly into their hips. “Seriously? It’s just me.”

He didn’t have to ask who “me” was. The raspy and throaty, and definitely pissy, voice that drove him crazy was enough to identify the trespasser. Not to mention the horse-shaped shadow standing next to her, nibbling at the ferns.

He closed his eyes and holstered his gun. Irritation and something else that felt a hell of a lot like fear bubbled up in his chest, which was ridiculous because Nolan didn’t do fear. “What part of ‘don’t move an inch’ didn’t you understand?”

“I didn’t move an inch. I moved several yards. And before you go all Barney Fife on me, let me remind you that, one,” she ticked up a finger, “I’m not one of your lackeys, so I don’t have to listen to you.”

“My badge says different.”

“Which brings me to two, you’re not even on duty. Three,” she held up her middle finger, “I can take care of myself. And four, my sister is out there.” A hint of vulnerability cracked through her tough-girl tone and something in his gut tightened.

He took a few steps forward, closing the distance until he could smell a hint of jasmine and french fries. He never took her for a flower kind of woman, then again, lately, there was a lot about Kat that surprised him. It gave him a similar feeling when he was close enough to see the light dusting of freckles over her nose—like he was seeing a hint of sweet behind the salty side. “I can’t do my job while worrying about your safety.”

“I don’t need you worrying about me.” She said it as if his concern for her would puncture that steel armor she hid behind.

“I can’t seem to help it,” he said quietly and was taken aback at how true those words rang.

When Kat wasn’t busting his balls, she had her quills out. And while she had them aimed at most of the penis-owning population—she’d singled him out as mortal enemy number one. For some sick reason, that turned him on.

He’d had a little thing for Kat ever since she’d kneed Brian Skelton in the nuts in high school for not picking her first in a game of football. Kat had been a freshman; Brian, the varsity team captain. Kat hadn’t given two shits that he’d been a head taller and fifty pounds heavier. All she cared about was that he’d overlooked her because she was a girl. She didn’t throw or tackle like any girl he’d known. And she sure as hell didn’t look like a girl anymore.

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