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Northern Renegade
JENNIFER LABRECQUE


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ALASKA—THE LAST FRONTIER
The nights are long. The days are cold.
And the men are really, really HOT!
Can you think of a better excuse for a trip up north?
Come on back to the unorthodox
and unforgettable town of Good Riddance and
experience some
Alaskan Heat!
Dear Reader,
Here we are, back in Good Riddance, Alaska, where folks get to leave behind what ails them.
And former marine sniper Liam Reinhardt really needs to move on. Behind him, he’s left a career, a wife and a sense of purpose. And he’s mad as hell.
Tansy Wellington needs a new start too. She’s leaving behind a cheating fiancé and a job she’s not sure she can do anymore. Needless to say, she’s none too happy either.
For both Liam and Tansy, Good Riddance starts off as a sanctuary… and then turns into much, much more.
What they both quickly learn is that sometimes people have to discover their own path in life before thinking about moving forward with a partner. Sometimes even the best-laid plans get derailed. When one door closes, another one opens—all we have to do is notice it. Lucky for us, Tansy and Liam soon notice that other door… and delight in the fact that it leads to the bedroom!
I hope you enjoy the sparks that fly between this hotheaded (and hot-blooded) couple. And remember, always keep an eye out for that open door. You never know what you might find…
I’d love to hear from you. Please drop me a note at Jennifer@jenniferlabrecque.com. And, as always, happy reading!
Jennifer LaBrecque

About the Author
After a varied career path that included barbecue-joint waitress, corporate number-cruncher and bug-business maven, JENNIFER LABRECQUE has found her true calling writing contemporary romance. Named 2001 Notable New Author of the Year and 2002 winner of a prestigious Maggie Award for Excellence, she is also a two-time RITA
Award finalist. Jennifer lives in suburban Atlanta with a Chihuahua who runs the whole show.

Northern
Renegade
Jennifer LaBrecque

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
Many thanks to Gervais Cranston for sharing his
expertise, passion and respect for weapons…
and the time and instruction at the firing range.

1
GUNNERY SERGEANT LIAM Reinhardt, former United States Marines sharpshooter, veered his motorcycle to the left, avoiding another pothole in the pockmarked gravel road. It wasn’t much better than the goat trails leading from one remote Afghani village to the next. Except, this wasn’t Afghanistan and he wasn’t tracking some insurgent leader through dusty mountains.
Nope, he was back in the U.S. of A. Afghanistan, Iraq and some places he couldn’t divulge were his past. As was his ex-wife and an honorable discharge based on some faulty heart valve that had shown up when he was being patched up from that last mission. That assignment had been the pinnacle of his career. It was right up there with the SEALs taking out bin Laden back in 2011, only Liam’s mission had had a lower profile.
Growing up, hunting in the woods of Minnesota and Wisconsin, he’d known early on he wanted to be a sharpshooter. The irony wasn’t lost on him that while he’d been fully prepared that enemy fire might take him out at any time, he’d never expected to lose his life, as he knew it, due to a personal plumbing defect.
Neither had he planned on Natalie bailing on their marriage two years ago because she couldn’t handle his deployments. What the hell? She’d known his career path when she married him. Now it was time to regroup because all of that was history. At thirty-one, he was starting all over. Starting what? Doing what? He’d be damned if he knew.
Rolling to a stop, he pushed up his helmet’s bug-spattered visor and surveyed his immediate future. Good Riddance, Alaska, spread before him. A single road cut through the collection of buildings flanked at the rear by evergreens.
Over the throb of his bike, he heard the drone of a plane. Bush plane. It was a far cry from the sound of F-15s and recon drones or the fractured chop-chop-chop of a Chinook. Sure enough, a bush plane, coming in low, touched down on the landing strip to the right of the town.
A breeze carried the scent of spruce and the odor of bear. While the trees were everywhere, bears would remain scarce. For the most part, they avoided people. He knew the feeling. He wanted to be left the hell alone.
Back home in Minnesota, that had been damn near impossible with his mom hovering over him. He and she operated on different planes, and after his dad died, their differences had seemed more marked than ever.
Liam craved the solitude he remembered from when he’d visited Good Riddance as a teenager. And his uncle, Bull Swenson, a tough-as-nails vet who’d spent some time in a Vietcong hellhole back in ‘Nam, had found a new start and a new life here. Liam had followed in Bull’s footsteps joining the military. He figured he might as well follow Bull’s lead afterward, as well. Good Riddance seemed like an all-around good decision—or at least a decent enough option to make it worth checking out.
Flipping his visor back into place, Liam rolled out once again. Within minutes and a mile or so, the piece of crap road had widened. It was certainly no mystery as to why the bush pilots had plenty of business.
On the outskirts of town, a group of kids played baseball in a clearing. Not the Little League stuff his ex-wife’s nephews had played with tricked-out uniforms, brow-knitted coaches and overbearing, yelling parents. There hadn’t been a thing fun about it for the kids as far as he could tell the couple of times Natalie had dragged him along to watch. Nah. He grinned. This was good old “sandlot” ball.
He caught a couple of curious glances as he parked his bike in front of the long log building on the edge of town that was both the air center, bed-and-breakfast and the only joint that sold a hot meal and a cold drink. Chances were Bull was in either the restaurant or the airstrip office instead of his hardware company.
Liam stood, feeling the stretch in his legs and back, although maintaining one position for hours was old hat to him. It was what he’d trained for and had done for a long time.
He pulled off his helmet and hung it on the handlebars, the breeze feeling good against his head. Two kids, a boy and a girl, both blond and freckled, with a sled dog at their side, sans sled, stopped on the sidewalk and eyed Liam’s motorcycle with a mix of admiration and envy.
“That’s a sweet ride,” the boy said. Liam figured they were about seven or eight.
Liam smiled at the kid’s terminology. That was one thing he’d learned—boys were boys and they liked boy toys whether it was the Middle East or suburban Minnesota or the Alaskan bush. Boss Black, as he called his Benelli, was damn sweet with an 1131 cc engine, matte black paint and plenty of chrome. “Thanks. I like it.”
The girl piped up. “I like your helmet.”
The boy rolled his eyes. “Girls.”
“Shut up.” She landed an elbow to his side.
Liam smiled. “Let me guess—brother and sister?”
The girl spoke up. “Twins.” She shot her brother a triumphant smirk. “I’m the oldest.”
That pulled a laugh out of Liam. “Me, too. I beat my brother out by five minutes.” And much like this kid, he never let Lars forget it.
She looked slightly crestfallen. “Oh, I was only four minutes,” she perked up, “but I was still first.”
“That’s because they were saving the best for last,” the boy said. Obviously they’d run through this spiel a number of times before.
“Humph.”
“Our grandparents run the dry goods store,” the boy said, ignoring his sister’s disdainful snort. “We’re spending the summer with them. They can hook you up if you need stuff. The beef jerky’s really good. Mr. Curl makes it himself.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
A whoop came from the baseball game down the way. “I’m playing first base.”
“Uh-uh. Me.”
They exchanged a look Liam recognized from swapping the same look with his twin brother, Lars, innumerable times—not if I get there first.
“See ya,” they yelled in unison as they took off running, the dog loping down the sidewalk behind them.
The town had definitely grown since the last time he was here, which would’ve been sixteen or so years ago when he was sixteen and still wet behind the ears. But it still had a good feel to it. He opened the door and walked into the bed-and-breakfast/airfield office.
It was pretty much the way he remembered it. Lace-trimmed flannel curtains still hung at the windows. A couple of tables were in “the front room.” The far side wall definitely held more framed photographs but the potbellied stove was still flanked by a couple of rocking chairs with a chess and checkers table between two of them.
In the far corner, a flat-screened television had replaced the older boxy model that had been there. The armchair and love seat also had a newer look than he remembered. But it still felt and smelled the same—welcoming.
Merilee Danville Weatherspoon turned from her desk to the right of the back door leading to the airstrip.
“Hi there, Merilee.”
Within seconds recognition dawned in her blue eyes and a broad welcoming smile lit her face. “Liam!”
She pushed up from her desk and crossed the room, her arms already extended to embrace him. She enfolded him in a welcoming hug, giving him a squeeze. “It’s so good to see you! We knew you were coming, but we didn’t know when.”
“That makes two of us. I took my time getting here.”
“Does Bull know you’re here?”
He shook his head. “I figured he was either here or next door and I knew for sure coffee was here so…”
Merilee smiled as she turned and headed for the coffee stand. Within seconds she’d poured him a cup. She was damn near as fast with that coffeepot as he was with his Glock. “Straight up?”
“Always.” He grinned as he took the cup from her. That’s how he preferred any situation—straight up.
“Muffin?”
“No, thanks.”
“That’s right. I remember you don’t have a sweet tooth at all. You’re looking good.”
He laughed. “I need a shave and a haircut, but thanks.” She was a classy lady and it was a nice thing to say. “You’re looking good yourself.”
“Well, thank you. That’s because I’m happy. Bull and I got married.”
“Congratulations! That’s cool.”
“It has been very cool,” she said. She practically glowed.
The cynical side of him was impressed. Merilee and Bull had been an item for a damn long time. It was pretty mind-blowing she could still look like that, all soft and sweet, when she talked about his uncle. He wouldn’t rain on her happy parade but her talk of marriage inevitably led him to think of his own marriage… and subsequent divorce.
Liam supposed, in retrospect, he’d never felt that way about Natalie and obviously she sure as hell hadn’t felt that way about him. He’d liked being married but the truth was he hadn’t missed Natalie as much per se as he’d missed having someone to come home to. And it had been a long time since he’d had a woman. Since his divorce, a few had come on to him and he’d even briefly considered an uncomplicated exchange of sex for money when a hooker had propositioned him, but he’d passed on all of it. He’d been beyond that mindless physical engagement back in his early twenties.
“How long have you guys been married?” he said.
“It’ll be two years in December. We tied the knot on Christmas Day. I’ll let Bull tell you the story.” She grinned. “I just wanted to tell you the news.”
He liked Merilee even more now than he had when he was a teenager. Although, he’d thought she was pretty damn cool then, too. She’d left her old man, driven an RV out to nowhere and founded a damn town. Now that was a woman with a pioneer spirit. Back in the day, she’d been the town mayor. He’d bet a buck she still was.
“You still the mayor?”
She nodded. “I can’t find anyone to run against me. At this point it feels more like dictator-for-life.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve thought about stepping down so I could just relax and Bull and I could travel, but it hasn’t worked out that way.”
“Not your style. You’re a born leader.”
She grinned. “Bull says I like to have my own way. He just stepped next door to Gus’s if you want to drop in over there. I imagine you’re ready for a hot meal.”
“I could eat a bite or two.” He could get by on field rations but he enjoyed a home-cooked meal as much as the next man. Well, maybe a little more. His last real meal had been when he pulled out of Anchorage a couple of days ago. “Whatever’s cooking next door smells good.”
“Caribou potpie. Lucky, the guy who owns it now, does a good job.”
It smelled damn good, that was for sure. “I’ll go check it out and catch up with Bull.” He smiled and turned to head for the restaurant that adjoined the airstrip center.
Merilee spoke, halting him. “Liam…” He turned. Smiling, she said, “Welcome to Good Riddance, where you get to leave behind what ails you.”
“Thanks.” Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple and he wasn’t sure that was why he was here.

BASTARD. BASTARD. BASTARD.
The words had danced around in her brain all morning like some liturgical chant… which made it altogether fairly difficult to make progress on her book, which was due at the publisher’s at the end of the month. And actually fairly difficult to concentrate on what her stepsister, Jenna, was saying now.
Jenna waved a hand in front of Tansy’s face. “Woohoo! Hello there. Anyone home? Earth to Tansy.”
Tansy shook her head to clear it and laughed, focusing on Jenna’s teasing countenance across the booth of Gus’s, the only restaurant in Good Riddance. It was a fun mix of a saloon from an old Western and a down-home diner. She and Jenna were sitting in a booth near the bar and front door. A mounted moose head overlooked the bar, which boasted a brass foot rail. The other side of the room held more booths and tables, a jukebox, a dartboard and a couple of pool tables. Regardless of the time of day, in the week that Tansy had been here, the local gathering spot was never without customers. “Sorry. I was wool-gathering.”
“BB?”
It was simply embarrassing to admit she was allowing him to eat up her brain space. Nonetheless, Tansy nodded her head. They had dubbed Bradley, Tansy’s former fiancé, Bradley the Butthead or Bradley the Bastard, which she had subsequently shortened to BB.
“Yes. Stupid, huh? He’s just been on my brain this morning.”
Jenna’s blue eyes reflected sympathetic understanding. “I wouldn’t call it stupid. I’d call it human. You guys have been an item since junior high school. He’s the only guy you ever dated, the only guy you ever… well, you know. He inspired your column, your book. He’s been your past, your present and, you thought, your future. I think I’d be more worried about you if he wasn’t invading your thoughts.”
As usual, Jenna made her own kind of sense.
“Well, technically, you know he’s not the only guy I ever dated. Remember? We broke up for a while our freshman year in college?”
“You went out for pizza with one guy and the movies with another one. Once. That really doesn’t count as dating.”
Tansy stirred her spoon in her coffee cup idly.
“I guess.”
Tansy had met Bradley in seventh grade. He had been her one and only. Those couple of dates with other guys had been enough for Tansy. She and Bradley had gotten back together from then on. Last Christmas he’d asked her to marry him. They’d done everything right. They’d moved forward cautiously, taken their time, made plans… and look where they’d wound up—Splitsville.
Heck, their history had sort of spawned her career as a love advice blogger and columnist. And then she’d started a book, Finding Your Own Fairy-tale Ending, that had been bought by a publisher. The book was slated for a February release, just in time for Valentine’s Day, and now she was floundering because everything she’d thought she’d known about love and relationships had been turned on its ear with Bradley’s infidelity. Coming to Good Riddance had been a good move on her part as she tried to find her footing with both the book and her life.
“Coming here has helped,” she said.
Jenna had been totally enthusiastic when Tansy had proposed coming to Alaska for a change of venue. Plus, she’d been dying to meet her new niece, Emma. And there was the little matter of having to get this book finished.
Jenna offered a sage nod. “Yep. Good Riddance… where you get to leave behind what ails you. It’s all going to be okay, Tansy.”
Tansy and Jenna had been thirteen when their parents had married. The girls had formed a quick bond. Not only were they the same age but they both had parents who were addicts. However, rather than drugs or alcohol, their parents had been marriage addicts. Divorce always seemed to lead to finding the next “fix.” If there was such a thing as serial spouses, Jenna’s mom and Tansy’s dad, to a much lesser extent, were casebook studies.
Tansy and Jenna had shared a bedroom when Tansy spent time at her dad’s. Tansy had long ago come to regard Jenna as her true sister and her friend. Most of the time she didn’t bother with the “step” designation and simply referred to Jenna as her sister. Not surprisingly, their parents’ marriage hadn’t lasted more than two years—just long enough for the new to wear off—and then Jenna’s mom and Tansy’s dad were off to greener grasses. Jenna and Tansy had stayed in touch, and although there were inevitable ebbs and flows in their relationship, they remained close.
“I feel like an idiot,” Tansy said, impatient with herself, “wallowing in man-woes.” She had never been one to wallow.
“You’re not an idiot and you’re not wallowing.” Jenna’s eyes flashed. “You found a pair of panties—not yours—in your fiancé’s jacket pocket. And then there were the emails and the hotel receipt.” God, she’d been painfully stupid and trusting. “There’d be something wrong with you if you weren’t having days like this.”
Tansy supposed. Sometimes she did okay and then sometimes it was like this. It wasn’t even as if she was totally brokenhearted. She was just… pissed. Why tell her he loved her? Why ask her to marry him if he was going to be fooling around with someone else? Not only was the bastard wrecking her concentration, worse, he’d made her feel like a fraud. How could she offer up advice on love and relationships when hers had hit the skids and she was still a mess? She wrote a syndicated column, had a wildly successful webpage and her own love life was in the toilet? Small wonder she’d stalled on the book she’d been working on. She hadn’t lost just her fiancé, it had been a whole damn belief in something bigger.
Admittedly, she liked it here—actually she loved it here—and it was wonderful to be with Jenna and Emma, who was cute as a bug. But Tansy had made precious little progress on her book and felt bogus every time she wrote her column. “I’ll figure it out.”
“You will.” Jenna shook her blond head while she waved at someone across the room. “Coming here was a good thing. It would’ve been a million times worse if you were still in Chattanooga. We’re glad you’re here, even if you are in solitary confinement most of the time.”
Jenna’s husband, Logan, had offered Tansy the use of his new FJ Cruiser. Jenna had reassured her that Logan would never have offered it if he didn’t want Tansy to drive it. So, she was staying out at a little recently renovated cabin at a place called Shadow Lake. Outside of visits to her grandfather’s farm halfway between Chattanooga and Marietta, Tansy had never done remote. She’d always lived in the city. She found she rather liked it, especially as she drove in at least once a day for a meal at Gus’s or Jenna’s.
And while it was nice and tranquil, Bradley remained a thorn in her side… or brain, rather. And the clock kept ticking. She had two weeks to push through to the end and then it was time to head back home and deliver her book to her publisher. She was nearing meltdown mode. She put down her fork. The food was delicious but she’d lost her appetite. Tansy wasn’t one to stay down for long, which made this all so confounding and annoying. “The book has to be written.”
“I know. And it’s pretty hard to write relationship advice when your heart is breaking… or you’re still going through whatever.” Jenna patted her hand across the table. “It’ll all work out. Really it will. And I hate to run but I’ve got to get back. Nancy’s got an appointment and she only wants me, plus I need to check on Emma and her daddy.”
Jenna was one of those people who had been consistently underestimated. Even though she came across as slightly spacey—Tansy had even heard her referred to as a dumb blonde when they were in high school, which she had always quickly corrected—Jenna had a terrific head for business. In the year and a half she’d been in Good Riddance she’d started a small nail business, which had grown into a day spa, with her living quarters above it. Jenna was very much a hands-on owner and a seize-the-moment personality whereas Tansy was a planner and strategizer. Consequently, having things fall through with Bradley had totally thrown her for a loop. Maybe she should borrow a page from Jenna and be a little more open to spontaneity. Hey, she was here, wasn’t she and that had been a fairly spontaneous decision.
“I’m glad I’m here,” Tansy said. “It’s wonderful to meet you for lunch and be a part of your life… and spoil my niece.”
Although, three-month-old Emma Evangeline Jeffries rather scared Tansy. Emma was so little and perfect, it was almost frightening. And Tansy thought it was charming that Jenna’s husband, Logan, wasn’t just besotted with both his wife and daughter, but actively participated in Emma’s care. The CFO of his family’s mining firm, he made time to watch Emma while Jenna ran the day spa.
Sometimes seeing Jenna and Logan and their little family together made Tansy realize just how off the mark her and Bradley’s relationship had been, even without the panties in his pocket and the incriminating emails.
“Come over for dinner and a movie tonight. I’m not cooking.” Jenna laughed reassuringly. “Logan’s got the Crock-Pot fired up.” Jenna’s lack of cooking skills were legendary, both back in Georgia and now throughout Alaska. While Tansy simply didn’t like to cook, Jenna couldn’t seem to master it. Tansy smiled. “And we’re watching Tangled on DVD. You know you like that movie.” Tansy was a sucker for romantic fairy tales, as was evidenced by the title of her book. Now she didn’t know what fairy tale, if any, was in her future. “Maybe that’s what you need to lift you out of your writer’s-block funk. It’s a cute romance.”
It was sweet of Jenna to include Tansy but sometimes seeing Jenna’s little family just made the whole thing with Bradley that much more painful. That’s what she had wanted. That’s what she had thought she was getting. “Let me see where I am.”
“What you need is a good healthy dose of a real man.”
In a moment of spectacular timing, Rooster McFie practically crowed from his spot across the restaurant/bar/pool hall. The shock of red hair and beard weren’t the only aspects that had earned him the Rooster moniker. He had the most disconcerting habit of almost crowing when he was excited. Dear God, she couldn’t imagine what he must be like when he was in the throes of sexual fulfillment. Ugh. It was one of those things she really didn’t want to imagine but crowded into her brain regardless.
Truthfully, she was all kinds of open to a sweet, gentle knight showing up on a figurative white steed—yes, she was a hopeless romantic—but she simply wasn’t seeing that happening in a small town in the middle of Alaska.
“I’m not holding my breath.”
Jenna looked past Tansy, and a slow smile bloomed on her face. “Don’t look now, but I believe that man is just what the doctor ordered.”
Don’t look now had to be one of the worst phrases because it fairly begged you to do just that.
She looked… and couldn’t seem to look away as something hot and real and slightly dangerous seemed to slam into her and through her, leaving her breathless and shaken.
Tansy didn’t know who he was, but she definitely knew, at first glance, precisely what he was—tall, lean, dark, wounded, inaccessible and somewhere the other side of sexy.
She finally looked away, feeling flushed and disheveled, as if he’d touched her, run his fingers through her hair, brushed against her skin, marked her in some way.
She also knew exactly what he wasn’t. This stranger was definitely no gentle knight on a white steed.

2
LIAM SCANNED THE ROOM for Bull. Sixteen years wouldn’t render his uncle unrecognizable. Even though he wasn’t a tall or loud man, Bull Swenson was a man of presence. Gus’s was nearly full, though, so Liam continued to search the crowded room.
And then, suddenly he saw her midscan, across the room. The hair on the back of his neck stood at attention. Short dark hair. Glasses. Slightly round face. Average height. Lavender T-shirt. Her eyes locked with his.
It was as if everything slowed down inside him, the same way it did when he was about to take a shot. His heart rate slowed. His breath stilled for several counts.
And then she turned around and the rest of the room came back into focus. He wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened, but something had. He felt shaken and there was very little that shook his composure. It was as if she’d sighted him in her crosshairs.
He mentally shook his head, dismissing the feeling, and continued his scan. Bull. Four o’clock. At the bar.
Bull looked Liam’s way and without a word to the guy sitting next to him, stood. Liam met his uncle halfway. Bull’s handshake turned into a one-armed hug. “You made it.”
There was a whole hell of a lot that went unsaid in those three words. Bull wasn’t just talking about Liam arriving in Good Riddance. It was an acknowledgment from one soldier who’d survived combat to another.
“I did.”
“I’m glad you’re here. It’s a good place to be.”
For the first time in a long time Liam felt as if he could exhale, at least a little. He still didn’t know what the hell he was going to do with his life but for now, being here felt right.
“Yeah, it seems to have treated you well.”
Liam had seen some things—terrible things, but it was nothing compared to Bull’s experience. As a POW in Vietnam, Bull had been to hell and back.
Bull grinned. “Can’t complain, can’t complain. Nice job on that mission. How’s the leg?”
Liam shrugged it off. “Not a problem.” The only problem had been when they’d been patching up what was little more than a flesh wound they’d found his faulty heart valve. That was the damned problem, not his leg.
Bull simply nodded and moved on to ask, “You hungry?”
Liam grinned. “Damn near starving.”
“Then belly up to the bar and we’ll feed you while you meet everyone.”
Throughout the entire exchange with Bull, Liam had had an undercurrent of awareness, always sensing the presence of the woman sitting in the booth to his left. He would find out who she was, but he’d wait until Bull had made introductions and see if one was forthcoming. Two characteristics had been honed by his training, his instinct and patience. He could wait, but in the meantime he was cognizant of her.
Several minutes later he felt as if he’d met damn near everyone in the joint… except her. However, the blonde at the booth with her, a woman named Jenna, had stopped by on her way out. Liam now knew the other woman’s name. Tansy. Tansy Wellington. She was Jenna’s sister and was here visiting from Chattanooga.
He’d never met anyone named Tansy. But he’d also never reacted that way to a woman, either. In an instant she’d slid beneath his skin. It wasn’t as if his guard was down because his guard was a permanent fixture. Nope, she’d just slipped in, marched straight through and set up camp. He didn’t like it a damn bit.
A tall, raw-boned woman plunked a plate heaped with a healthy portion of potpie on the counter before him. “Thanks,” he said with a nod, picking up his spoon. He turned to Bull. “So, congratulations. Merilee says the two of you tied the knot.”
He took a bite. The potpie was damn good.
“Yep. When you find a good woman you’ve got to hold on to her, even if you have to spend twenty-something years to pin her down.”
Liam spoke frankly to Bull. They’d always had that kind of relationship, even though they didn’t see each other often. Both of them were straight shooters. “I’m surprised you and Merilee married after all this time.”
“Yeah? Well, that’s because the crazy woman was still married, but just hadn’t mentioned that minor detail. Hell, I’ve been trying to marry her since I met her. When you find a good one you have to keep her.”
“No kidding? She was still married?”
“Yep. Her old man wouldn’t give her a divorce. Picture an asshole with control issues. She kept thinking she’d get a divorce at any time and then it just became a thing. He showed up a couple of years ago engaged to Jenna, the woman who just left.”
Jenna had mentioned her husband and a baby. “Merilee’s ex lives here and they just had a kid?”
“Hell, no. Merilee ran his ass out on the rails once she got her paperwork signed.” He grinned and nodded his satisfaction with his woman’s actions. “Jenna decided to stay. She married a guy she knew from high school last year. Nice fellow. Speaking of marriage and divorce, sorry to hear about Natalie.”
“How’d you know about Natalie?”
“Dirk. He rolled in last September, stayed a couple of months and then rolled back out.”
Liam’s cousin Dirk did that. He’d show up for a while and then vamoose. Dirk was something of a rolling stone. And they’d had some damn good times together as kids and teenagers. Dirk was a year younger than Liam and Lars and a year older than Liam’s baby brother, Jack. The four of them had spent many a summer vacation and holidays fishing, hunting, making slingshots, four-wheeling, skinny-dipping, generally doing a bunch of fun stuff at their grandparents’ spread in upper Michigan.
And that Dirk would know about his and Natalie’s divorce made sense. Liam’s mom didn’t get along with her two brothers, Bull and Dirk’s dad. However, Natalie and Dirk had grown up next door to each other and their moms were good friends. Hell, that’s how he’d met Natalie in the first place.
In fact, Natalie had been a sore spot between Liam and his cousin. Liam hadn’t known he was encroaching at the time, and the truth was, it probably wouldn’t have made any difference. Dirk thought Liam had stolen Natalie from him, and it had definitely driven a wedge between the two of them.
Liam felt sure that Natalie’s mom had been the one to tell of his and Natalie’s breakup. You knew you were in a crazy family when your former mother-in-law was the one telling your kin about your divorce.
“How long was Dirk here?” Liam asked. He was sorry he’d missed his cousin. He hadn’t seen him in probably six years or more.
“For a couple of months.”
Behind him, Tansy stood. He sensed her movement. The mirror beneath the stuffed moose head mounted on the back wall over the bar merely confirmed it.
Unlike nearly every other person in the room, she didn’t approach them for an introduction. He looked over his shoulder at her retreating backside as she headed for the door. Bull followed Liam’s gaze.
“So, what’s her story?” Liam said.
There was no point in anything other than cutting to the chase. Bull would see straight through it.
“She’s working on a book. She caught her fiancé fooling around on her and came here to get away for a while and finish up her work. She got here last week and she’ll be heading out at the end of the month.”
“Ah. One of those scorned women hating on men.”
“I wouldn’t say that. She strikes me as a nice gal. Now when she asks if you’re one of those scorned divorced men hating on women, what should I say?”
“What makes you think she’ll ask?”
“Oh, she’ll ask. What should I tell her?”
She’d sighted him in her crosshairs. She’d peered down her scope at him. He didn’t like it one damn bit. “Tell her it’s none of her business.”
TANSY STEPPED OUT INTO the September sun and hesitated as the door to Gus’s Restaurant and Bar swung shut behind her. Indecision washed through her. She really should just head back to the cabin and get to work. However, focus didn’t seem to be her strong suit these days. If she went back out there now without knowing who the stranger with the magnetic gray eyes was, well, she’d simply sit around and wonder.
Jenna was going to be tied up with a client so asking her was out, and the need to know burned inside her.
“What’s up, Tansy?”
Lost in her own indecision, she’d missed Alberta’s approach. Which merely proved how distracted Tansy had been by the nonverbal encounter with the stranger because Alberta was one hard lady to overlook.
Alberta was, in a word, “colorful.” A flowered kerchief covered some of her bright red hair. A brocade vest topped a mutton-sleeved cream blouse. Full, multicolored panels comprised her handkerchief-hemmed skirt, which ended right above her lace-up ankle boots. Turquoise eye shadow, Popsicle-orange lipstick and purple nail polish rounded out her full presentation of the color spectrum. There wasn’t a color known to God or man that Alberta wasn’t wearing today.
“Not a lot on going on,” Tansy said. “I just grabbed a bite to eat with Jenna. How about you?”
“Can’t complain.” Alberta issued a gap-toothed grin. “Me and Dwight are still in that honeymoon stage.”
The thought that she, Tansy, wouldn’t have a honeymoon because Bradley was a liar and a cheater, crossed her mind. She brushed it aside, focusing on Alberta and the conversation.
That was the remarkable thing about Good Riddance. Tansy had only been here a week, but between Jenna’s weekly emails and being here, she felt fully tuned-in to the town and its people.
Alberta, a traveling Gypsy matchmaker, had shown up in Good Riddance back in May. She’d wound up marrying the man who’d commissioned her to find him a wife.
Dwight Simmons had spent most of his life prospecting and his latter years playing chess and checkers with his prospecting partner, Jeb Taylor. When Jeb died, Dwight decided he was ready for a wife and sought Alberta’s expertise. She’d found him one all right—her.
At eighty-one, it was his first marriage. Dwight was Alberta’s sixth husband. It was all rather mind-boggling in a charming way.
Actually, Alberta had proven comforting. Within two days of Tansy’s arrival, Alberta had corralled her and told Tansy not to worry about Bradley. According to the psychic/matchmaker, Bradley wasn’t the one for Tansy and his infidelity was a reflection of him, not her. It was all standard comfort-your-dumped-friend verbiage. Tansy had found some solace in being told she hadn’t fallen short as a woman because it was all too easy to feel inadequate when you’d expected to spend your life with a man while he was busy seeking the next best thing.
It was sweet to hear Alberta talk about her new marriage. “A honeymoon stage is good.”
“You’d better believe it.” A sly wink and an elbow nudge accompanied her words. “I’m on my way to check in on my stud muffins. Why don’t you walk over and say hi with me?”
Dwight and Lord Byron, Alberta’s three-legged tomcat, both hung out at the airstrip center office. Tansy couldn’t exactly see either Dwight or Lord Byron as stud-muffin material, but, as with beauty, reality was in the eye of the beholder.
It sounded good to Tansy. She wasn’t ready to get back to work and perhaps if she knew who the stranger was, she could shake off the impact of those few seconds when his eyes had pierced hers. And the surest source of information was Merilee.
Tansy trailed along with Alberta to the door halfway down the front of the building.
They stepped into the airstrip office, the scent of cookies and coffee in the air. Merilee and one of the bush pilots, a pretty, newly married brunette named Juliette, had their heads together over paperwork at Merilee’s desk. Juliette and her husband, Sven, were her neighbors out at Shadow Lake. Juliette’s husky puppy, Baby, sat waiting patiently between the two women. Baby actually flew in the plane with Juliette on trips. It was cute.
The object of Alberta’s affections sat across the room, staring at the chess table before him. Dwight not only had a new wife, but a new chess partner had materialized in Jefferson Walker Monroe.
According to Jenna, Jefferson had simply walked into town one day and sat down in the rocking chair on the other side of the chess set and that had been that. It turned out that the only relative Jefferson had left was Curl, the town’s taxidermist, mortician and barber.
Curl hadn’t actually known he had a long-lost relative, particularly a man of color who recounted stories of playing the saxophone with greats such as Count Basie and Louis Armstrong and playing studio sessions with Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald. However, Curl had embraced Jefferson, as had the rest of the town’s people.
Tansy had looked him up on Google. Jefferson Walker Monroe was the real deal.
In so many ways, Good Riddance was like the collection of Santa’s misfit toys from the Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer TV classic. Maybe that’s why Tansy felt right at home.
Dwight and Jefferson sat on opposite sides of the chessboard. They were a study in juxtaposition, their only commonalities white hair and lined faces. Both men had witnessed the change of seasons for more than eight decades.
Dwight’s long white beard and fringe of white hair rested against the collar of his checked flannel shirt. Long summer days and harsh winters had weathered his skin to a permanent ruddiness. Tall and thin, his carriage bore a permanent stoop. His overalls, while clean, were as worn and weathered as his face.
Across the table, Jefferson bespoke a sophistication of a bygone era of well-dressed couples, two-olive martinis and a husky-voiced chanteuse in evening wear. With his close-cropped white hair, wire-rimmed spectacles and well-pressed suit he should’ve appeared ridiculous in a town ruled by work boots and flannel. However, he simply looked like a man comfortable in his own skin, waiting to be called onstage to play the next set.
Lord Byron, who was possibly the ugliest cat Tansy had ever seen, but had survivor written all over him, lay curled on top of the empty potbellied stove.
“Hey, sweet thing,” Alberta said loudly to Dwight, whose hearing wasn’t so good these days.
The cat’s ears pricked but he didn’t open his eyes.
Before Dwight could respond, Jefferson smiled, mischief glinting in his eyes. “I’ve told you not to talk to me that way in front of your old man.”
“Hey, beautiful,” Dwight said to his wife. Most assuredly a case of beauty in the eye of the beholder. He turned back to his chess partner. “Don’t make me call you out, talking to my wife that way.”
“Won’t make any difference if you’re not any better at fighting than you are at chess. And if you don’t have better moves behind closed doors than you do on the chessboard.…”
Dwight grumbled beneath his breath and moved a chess piece.
Tansy laughed at the byplay as Merilee looked over her shoulder. “Afternoon, ladies.”
Tansy waved. Alberta spoke up. “What’s shaking, Merilee? Juliette?”
Juliette opened the back door. “I’m off to Wolf Pass for a pickup. See you guys later.” Baby trotted out behind her.
Merilee stood, stretching. “Bull’s nephew Liam just got into town. We haven’t seen him in years. We knew he was coming but we just didn’t know when.” Merilee looked at Tansy, a question in her eyes. “He was just over at Gus’s.”
Liam. Tansy turned the name over in her head. It fit. It was unusual, and the man himself, in that brief moment of eye contact, had struck her as just that—unusual.
“I saw someone with Bull, but there are still people in town that I don’t know. Or rather who live out of town.” There were a number of people, men mostly, who lived out in the wilderness surrounding Good Riddance.
“Liam’s a nice name,” Alberta said.
Merilee nodded. “He’s a nice guy. We don’t know the whole story but he just got out of the Marines. He was a sharpshooter. I’m surprised he’s out—don’t know why—but I’m glad he’s here.”
Something slid over Tansy. A sharpshooter. The man’s sole purpose had been to kill people. Hard. Dangerous.
“When did he get out of the military?” Alberta said.
Merilee shrugged. “All we know is Bull got an email from his sister saying he left in May setting out for here. His sister’s not the most reliable source. We thought for years Liam and Lars had joined the Army. Where he’s been in between or what happened, I have no idea.”
“So, I guess he’s not married or he wouldn’t have left his wife behind?” Alberta pursed her lips in consideration.
“He’s divorced. His cousin Dirk told us when he was here. Liam’s got a twin, Lars, who’s also a Marine and a younger brother, Jack, who’s a Navy SEAL, but beyond that—” another shrug from Merilee “—is a mystery. Bull and his sister have been estranged for several years now. She’s an odd bird and doesn’t seem to play well with others.”
None of it should matter to Tansy any more than any of the other people she’d encountered here, but strangely it did. There was something about the man that attracted her, drew her, from the moment she exchanged that glance. She felt unsettled inside… well, even more so than before. And it wasn’t just a curiosity. It was a sexual attraction, a wanting that had been instant, and it was a feeling that she simply wasn’t accustomed to. She’d felt desire with Bradley, but that had been a culmination of getting to know him, of wooing and bonding that grew as she got to know who Bradley was inside. Although she’d obviously been way off the mark with what was inside Bradley. How could she have been so wrong about him? She wanted to just wake up and have things the way they used to be. However, she kept those thoughts to herself, not even sharing them with Jenna.
But how could she be attracted to a stranger when she still felt that way about Bradley?
“Interesting,” Alberta said, and for one disconcerting moment Tansy thought the other woman was commenting on what had been rolling through Tansy’s head. But then she realized Alberta was merely commenting on Merilee’s rundown on Liam. “Where’s he gonna stay?” Alberta said.
“Bull and I have talked about it and discussed it with Skye and Dalton. We knew he was coming, just not when. He’s going to stay in the other cabin out at Shadow Lake.” Merilee smiled at Tansy. “Liam’s your new neighbor.”
MALLORY KINCAID GNAWED on the end of her pen—a bad habit, that—as she stared at the blinking cursor on her computer screen. The air conditioner hummed in the background, working overtime in the humid heat of Louisiana’s Indian summer. She could close the blind on the hot sun slanting through the window but she liked the feel of it against her skin.
Good Riddance, Alaska. The satellite image showed a small town, with one main street running through its center and surrounded by trees. Lots and lots of trees.
That’s where Liam Reinhardt was now. She quit gnawing on the pen and placed it on top of one of the piles on her desk. He obviously wasn’t trying to hide. It’d been easy to follow him via his credit card usage.
He’d left Minnesota and headed southwest, rolling through South Dakota, Wyoming, Idaho, back north into Montana, west again to Washington and finally Alaska via Canada. He hadn’t been in any hurry. He’d spent four months traveling, alternating between motels and campgrounds.
He might pick up and move on tomorrow, but Mallory had a feeling he’d finally arrived at his destination. His uncle lived in Good Riddance. Bull Swenson owned a hardware store/sawmill and the deed to several parcels of land in addition to an interest in the airstrip and the local eatery—public records were a beautiful thing.
The remoteness of the Alaskan wilderness seemed to fit Liam Reinhardt perfectly. She just couldn’t imagine a man like him settling down in the suburbs.
It’d been a crapshoot when he was discharged. She figured he’d either land at Quantico as a civilian adviser or he’d go to ground. Apparently he was going to ground.
She opened another tab and typed in flight information. She winced at the results. She hadn’t thought it would be cheap, but it was going to be damn expensive to get herself there. However, she had to do what she had to do. A couple of keystrokes later and she was printing her boarding pass for a flight tomorrow.
And that was the easy part. Adrenaline surged through her. The challenge lay in getting Liam Reinhardt to actually talk to her. And part of that adrenaline surge was due to the fact that she was admittedly infatuated with and fascinated by the man.
She came from a military family and had pursued a career as a military historian. She’d grown up surrounded by men in uniform and had always considered them a cut above the rest, but there were always a handful of men who stood out even above them. Liam Reinhardt was one of those men.
He’d performed brilliantly in what was his final mission. It hadn’t gotten a lot of coverage in the media, which was the way the corps had wanted it, but those with military knowledge knew the importance of what had gone down, and that Reinhardt had been the one to deliver the goods. She had seen him a year ago in a video conference when she’d been in a Marine general’s office on a documenting assignment and had been smitten from the moment she’d seen him and heard his voice—online, that is. Since then she’d followed his career, researched him and come to realize he was the man meant for her.
She glanced at his framed picture sitting on her desk. Those eyes, the hard glint of his stare, the line of his jaw. She smiled and reached over and traced her finger against the glass that separated her from his image. She’d found it of him in military files and had the photo printed. There was also one sitting on her nightstand.
He was only one of the best sharpshooters in military history, right up there with legendary sharpshooter Carlos Hathcock of Vietnam-era fame. He was precisely what she’d always dreamed of in a man. Handsome yet rugged, highly accomplished and self-contained—how could a woman not be in love with a man like that?
While getting him to share the story of his last mission with her might be a challenge, she knew that once they met he’d recognize her as his fate, as surely as she knew he was hers.
As mere mortals neither of them could deny a force stronger than them—destiny.
They were meant to be together.

3
“GOT ANY PLANS?” Bull asked as they stepped outside. A truck with more rust than actual body parts passed and Bull automatically waved. It was that kind of town.
“Thought I’d just chill for a while.” The words almost stuck in his throat. He had no purpose. He was rudderless. He was well acquainted with stillness and quietness of being—it had been vital to his job. This was different. He’d be damned if he knew what to do with himself.
Bull nodded. “Think you might be interested in some seasonal construction work? Sven Sorenson can always use an extra set of hands, and he’s up to his eyeballs in work these days.”
“Is it hard labor?”
“It can be.”
“Then count me in.” He needed to work himself into exhaustion. Maybe then he could actually sleep at night.
The airstrip/bed-and-breakfast door opened and the woman from the booth, the woman who’d seemed to sink into him—Tansy—stepped out onto the sidewalk.
“See you later,” she called over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.
Both Bull and Liam stopped, but the sun must have been in her eyes, because she walked right into Liam. Instinctively he grabbed her to deflect the impact.
Every sense inside him went on high alert, which translated to everything slowing down to utter awareness. The wind from the northeast carried her scent of woman—vanilla and a hint of spice. Her skin was soft and warm beneath his hands, her flesh firm to his touch. Her eyes, somewhere between blue and almost purple, widened behind her glasses in surprise and a flash of recognition.
Something wild and hot sprang between them. Liam wasn’t used to wild and hot. It wasn’t his modus operandi. He did only a controlled heat. Her eyes widened even more and he felt a tremor chase through her. She recognized it as well, and he fully suspected it was outside her normal range, too.
He released her.
She dropped her gaze.
“Thank you.”
Her voice, low, husky and damned sexy resonated through him. What the hell was wrong with him? What was it with this woman?
“Steady there,” Bull said from his side, ending his loss of composure. He’d totally forgotten Bull was even there. Crap. “Tansy, meet Liam Reinhardt, my nephew. Liam, this is Tansy Wellington.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said automatically. He didn’t offer his hand and neither did she. It seemed unnecessary, considering they’d already touched. And because he wanted so badly to touch her again, he wouldn’t.
“It’s nice to meet you, too.” There was a softness to her that made him want to taste her. The thought crossed his mind that her honeyed sweetness might mitigate some of the bitterness and anger inside him. He pushed aside the notion. “I hear you just got into town,” he said.
She smiled and it knocked him for yet another loop, lighting her face and transforming her from ordinary to extraordinary in the blink of an eye. “I just arrived last week. I’m not one of the regulars.”
“So I hear.”
“You’ll both find,” Bull said, “that news travels faster than the speed of light here.”
Her laugh held the same husky sexiness that made him think of lying in bed with her, both of them naked. That and the way her T-shirt clung to the roundness of her breasts and followed the curve of her waist to her full hips.
“I understand we’re going to be neighbors,” she said.
What the hell? “We are?” Liam looked to Bull.
“Janie—” God, his mother hated that name, preferring the more formal Jane “—gave us the heads-up you were heading this way. Me and Merilee figured you’d want a little privacy, so we made arrangements for you to stay in one of the cabins at Shadow Lake, outside of town. Tansy’s staying in the other cabin.” Bull looked at Tansy. “Nice place, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “It’s beautiful. The cabins overlook a lake surrounded by mountains.”
He could almost feel her encroaching on him. She painted a scene of tranquillity at odds with the seething inside him. He wanted solitude to embrace his anger, not dispel it. He didn’t want to be seduced by her dulcet tones, her ripeness, her sweetness. He wanted distance from her. “How many cabins are there?” he said to Bull, knowing damn well he was bordering on rude.
“Only the two. They belonged to two old maids who built them next to one another. They’re within spitting distance. There’s even a crude intercom system that was left in place. Sven just overhauled them a couple of months ago. They’re nice enough, but not fussy. It should suit your needs.”
How the hell would Bull know what his needs were when he wasn’t even sure of them? All he knew was that he needed to be alone and he needed time. But how could he be alone, with this woman right next door?
As if he’d gained some inside track on what was going through Liam’s head, Bull added, “Trust me on this.”
If there was anyone in this world, other than his twin, whom he trusted, it was Bull Swenson. He looked at Tansy Wellington standing there in the sunshine.
He was in trouble.…
TANSY SETTLED IN on the couch with her laptop. A small desk sat against one wall, but she preferred propping her feet on the coffee table and working from there. It wasn’t exactly balmy outside. She’d thrown on a cardigan over her T-shirt and would start up the potbellied stove in a bit. She loved the smell of wood smoke against the crispness of the autumn evenings here. For now, the front door stood open, with the screen door guarding against bugs and anything that might wander up.
She would get to work. She would power through this. Five minutes later she’d gotten a big fat nowhere. And now instead of Bradley burning into her brain, she had both Bradley and Liam occupying that space. Actually, Liam was pushing Bradley to the background.
She sighed, frustrated with herself, and set aside her laptop. Wrapping her sweater around her, she walked out to the front porch and sat on the bottom step, soaking up the sun. It glinted off the lake’s surface. Snow capped the mountains that stood as a backdrop. They appeared close enough to touch, but were actually quite a distance away. It was tranquillity incarnate. She sighed again and leaned her head against the porch post.
She didn’t want this man in the cabin next door. And it was right next door. He was hard and wounded… and she was attracted to him. The feel of his hard palms against her had set off an unwelcome need to have more. She’d been relieved, yet disappointed, when he’d dropped his hands from her arms.
The roar of a motorcycle approaching disturbed the quiet. It was him. She didn’t know that he drove a motorcycle, but it fit. She heard the downshift as he turned onto the driveway from the main road. She forced herself not to get up and go inside. She would not run, scurrying inside like some frightened little mouse, despite the temptation to do just that.
He emerged from the stand of trees on a black beast of a motorcycle. She openly watched his approach. It would be silly to pretend she didn’t see or hear him.
He, however, ignored her as he drove past to park in front of the cabin next to hers. He killed the engine and climbed off. He was tall and lean, yet broad shouldered, and she’d have to be dead not to notice that he had a nice derriere in those jeans. She most assuredly wasn’t dead.
He pulled off his helmet and without hesitation crossed the expanse separating them. She thought about remaining seated, but that would put his crotch directly at eye level, which didn’t seem the best idea.
She rose and tamped down the urge to wrap her arms around her middle. He was intimidating in his black leather jacket. Actually, it wasn’t even the jacket. It was the attitude. She, however, refused to be intimidated.
He cut to the chase. “I came here for privacy.”
What the heck? “So did I.”
“I don’t want a neighbor.”
For a moment his sheer nerve and arrogance rendered her speechless. And then that moment passed. “News flash, Captain Sharpshooter—”
“That’s Sergeant Sharpshooter.”
Whatever. “You didn’t corner that market. I came here for privacy and I don’t want a neighbor, either. And if I did, it sure as heck wouldn’t be you. However, churlishness isn’t in my nature, so I will make the best of what has become a bad situation.”
“Really?” He crossed his arms over his chest, and she had the distinct impression, despite his dour expression, that she was amusing him. “So how do you plan to make the best of what you term a bad situation? Are you going to move in with your sister?”
“Hardly. If anyone were to seek alternative arrangements, that would be you. I was here first. So are you going to move in with your aunt and uncle?”
“Nope. I told you I want privacy.”
“Have I invaded your privacy? I was sitting here minding my own business and you walked over to my cabin.”
“I wanted to make my position clear.”
“It’s crystal clear. And I hope you’re not suffering any confusion as to where I stand, either.”
“I don’t want any company or milk and cookies or any of that neighborly crap.”
“I don’t bake, so no worries. And if I was seeking out company, it certainly wouldn’t be yours.”
“Same here, sister.”
She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to cry or throw something at him. Both were atypical behavior and neither was a viable option.
“Good,” she said.
“Great.”
“Better than great.” By God, she’d have the last word with this moron.
“By the way, I don’t plan to alter the way I do things on your behalf.”
Merilee was seriously confused if she thought Liam was a nice guy. He was a jerk. “I don’t recall asking you to.” And then curiosity got the best of her. “Like what exactly? Should I expect you to howl at the moon?”
“I only howl occasionally, but I do swim in the nude.”
He swam in the nude? She didn’t know whether he was just trying to shock her or if he was serious. Either way, she felt her face heating with a blush. Nonetheless, she called his bluff. “Yet another news flash, Sergeant.” She looked around as if checking that no one else was nearby and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve seen nude men before. I think I’ll manage to contain myself.”
“I just don’t need a jilted man-hating woman taking out her frustrations on me.”
Really? Seriously? That had just come out of his mouth? Jerk didn’t begin to describe him. She gathered every ounce of self-control and smiled sweetly at him. “I am shocked, simply shocked, that you’re not married. Such gallantry and charm—you’re such a catch it’s unfathomable you arrived alone. It will require great willpower on my part, but I think I can manage to not show up on your doorstep, craving your fun-loving, witty company, or throw myself at your nakedness when you go for your swim.”
His expression remained implacable. “I think we’ve come to an understanding.” He turned to go.
Almost. “One more thing, Sergeant…”
He gave a quarter turn to face her again. “Yes?”
“I don’t know, and quite frankly I don’t care, what your problem is, but you need to find another whipping post. Stay the hell away from me.”
SON OF A BITCH. That tactic had failed miserably. Well, it hadn’t been a total wash from the standpoint that she’d certainly give him a wide berth now, but it hadn’t sent her packing, which had been the overall plan. She was still within spitting distance.
He’d underestimated her.
There was a tactic that when a soldier found himself outmanned and alone, he pulled out all his weapons and went on the offensive, guns blazing. He might get gunned down, regardless, but odds were the enemy would turn and flee, sure that anyone on such a certain attack had reinforcements behind him. Liam had dubbed it “playing crazy.” He supposed he’d dub what he’d just done “playing super-bastard.” He’d gone on the offensive and been incredibly abrasive and rude.
He’d fully expected her to turn tail and run. He’d counted on her to quail and take cover by moving into town, away from him. Instead, she’d not only stood her ground, but returned fire, volley for volley.
She was a worthy adversary.
He found himself whistling as he emptied his backpack and stored his meager provisions.
The cabin was comfortable, just the other side of utilitarian. He preferred no frills, and this place provided just that. He immediately noted the entrances and exits—one door in the front, one in the back on the other side of the kitchen.
A single room accommodated a kitchen and sofa with a small desk. A television sat against the opposite wall. The two other rooms were a bathroom and a bedroom. The bathroom held a double bed, small dresser, nightstand and standing wardrobe for clothes. A large braided rug covered a good portion of the wood floor in the main room, with a smaller version of the same color and design in the bedroom.
Framed nature prints hung on the walls. An eagle at roost. A pair of loons on the water. The unblinking stare of a bull moose. Some purple flowers. Spruce hanging heavy with snow.
Nice.
Bull had contacted Sven Sorenson, who had stopped by to meet Liam. Liam would start working with Sven’s crew tomorrow. He’d asked for the most physically demanding job Sven could throw his way.
Liam craved a workout. He ran every morning, but it wasn’t enough—he needed to push himself to the point of physical exhaustion. The sun seemed to wink off the water in invitation. Liam had met the other two couples who lived here—Skye and Dalton Saunders and Sven and Juliette Sorenson. They were all at work.
Liam was going for a swim. It was brisk, but he’d swam in much colder water. As boys in Wisconsin, he and his brother had always swam in the altogether when they could get away with it. Maybe this would send her packing.
He tugged off his boots and socks and stepped outside, clad only in his T-shirt, jeans and underwear. The grass was soft beneath his feet. It had been a long time since he’d walked barefoot on a carpet of green like this.
The water would be cold. That was fine. He’d embrace the cold, adapt to it, push through it.
The hair on the back of his neck prickled to attention. She was there. He felt her watching him. Dammit—he wanted to her gone. Methodically, without fanfare, he stripped.
He waded in, the bracingly cold water lapping around him, and he kept going. Once he hit waist-deep, he began to swim. He focused on the strokes, the rhythm, mentally calculating his distance until the physicality of it freed his mind.
TANSY STOOD ROOTED to her spot behind the screen door, mesmerized by the sheer beauty of the man moving through the water.
The water rippled about him as his powerful strokes cut through the surface. Muscles rippled along his arms, shoulders and back. The effect rippled through her.
He’d disturbed her surface. He’d broken her calm… well, what little calm she’d had. He’d shattered it in spades.
Watching him strip on the shoreline—and yeah, she’d watched—had been something else. Yes, she’d seen a naked man before… and Bradley hadn’t looked like that. Hard and muscled, Liam’s body bespoke discipline and rigor. She had no doubt that whatever physical demands he encountered, he was up to the task. He didn’t have the bulk and bulge of a weight lifter, but sleek, honed definition. The man didn’t carry an ounce of fat and if she’d thought his derriere was impressive in jeans, it had been beyond compare in the altogether.
She’d called his bluff and he’d delivered.
He’d told her he would do what he would do and wouldn’t change anything up for her. And he had.
She opened the screen door and stepped out onto the porch, into the waning sunlight. Leaning against the post, she openly watched him. If an unattractive, albeit boorish, man chose to strip naked and swim in the lake in front of her temporary home, then she chose to watch. Plus, she was curious as to just how far and long he’d swim.
Another plus in the equation was it really was rather akin to poetry in motion to watch his movements in the water. Fluid and powerful, he seemed at one with the lake. And last but not least, given how impressive the rear view had been, she readily admitted she wanted to see how the front view stacked up.
There was something about that argument and then subsequently watching him disrobe that had only heightened the sexual attraction she’d felt from the instant she’d seen him. And in a way, she had enjoyed that blowup. She’d welcomed the anger and outrage. He’d been a distraction and an outlet. For the entire time she’d been arguing with him, she hadn’t thought of Bradley, not in any portion of her brain, except when the butt-head had mentioned her being jilted or whatever nonsense he’d said. But then she really still hadn’t thought of Bradley—it had been more about her.
And it had been good to feel something more—even if it was anger and outrage… and this sexual tingling—than the numbness that had permeated her since she’d walked away from Bradley and his infidelity.
Lost in her own musings, she realized his pace had slowed. A few yards from the shore, he stopped swimming and stood. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart rate accelerated as he began to walk to the water’s edge. Wet, dark hair was scattered over his chest, a taut belly and then—oh… my… goodness. She swallowed hard, a white-hot heat arcing from her brain straight to her sex. Sweet mercy. It was chilly, the water was cold… and he was still impressive. Certainly more impressive than what she’d seen in her other views of male nudity. What he hadn’t been gifted with in the way of manners he’d been given in physical endowments because… well, wow. He was a jerk, but a well-hung jerk.
Maybe that was part of his problem—too much testosterone. She’d always favored gentle, academic men who tended to be a little on the soft side. There was nothing gentle, academic or soft about the naked man retrieving his clothes from the ground.
He straightened and she wasn’t surprised at all that he made absolutely no attempt to cover his nakedness. She made absolutely no attempt to avert her eyes.
He strode audaciously, surely, toward his cabin. She watched boldly, the play of muscles in his thighs, the weight of his penis between his legs, the slide of water over his golden skin.
Neither of them spoke a word. He stared straight ahead. She stared straight at him, silently challenging him to say something to acknowledge her presence when he’d vowed to ignore her.
Actually, he didn’t have to speak to acknowledge her. Awareness arced between them; sexual tension fairly sizzled in the air.
Insanely, if he detoured and his path led him naked to her, despite his earlier behavior she wouldn’t turn away. She fairly hummed with a newfound sexual energy… that suddenly needed an outlet.
But he didn’t detour and come to stand before her. He went inside his cabin and closed the door behind him.
She sank to the top step, feeling both weak-kneed and energized at the same time. She felt alive and turned on.
He wanted a war? She’d give him a war.
Tansy smiled to herself and reached into her pocket for her cell phone.
She knew just the next move.

4
LIAM TURNED OUT THE LIGHT and stretched out on the bed, his hands folded beneath his head. Why the hell did everything have to be so damn complicated?
All he’d wanted was a military career, and that was gone. It’d been easy not to think about Natalie and her leaving him when he’d had his job to fill his mind. His job had always come first. Now his failed marriage was horning into his thoughts.
There was the woman next door. And he’d gotten an email from Lars. His twin had leave coming up and was heading to Good Riddance.
He pushed up off of the bed and crossed to the window. It wasn’t exactly hot but he’d spent so much time bunking down in tents and out in the field that he slept better with a little fresh air circulating around him. He raised the blind and opened the window a couple of inches. Cool night air seeped into the room and a slice of star-scattered sky was visible with the blinds raised.
He settled back on the bed, his hands once again folded beneath his head. Peripheral movement caught his eye. Next door, the lights had gone out in the main part of the cabin. Seconds later the lamp switched on in the bedroom. With the light on and the blinds down, she was like a shadow puppet as she moved about the room.
And then she really caught and held his attention when she, in outline, tugged the T-shirt over her head. The woman had a classic hourglass figure. She was built the way women were supposed to be built, with curves and a little extra padding here and there.
He rolled to his side and watched while she slid her jeans over her hips. Turning one-hundred eighty degrees, she reached behind her and unhooked her bra. She stood there for a moment, outlined in cock-hardening relief, the fullness of her breast, the slight sag that said they were real and the thrusts of her nipples all clearly detailed in the play of shadow.
She slipped her panties off and there was the curve of her belly and ass, the faint unevenness of pubic hair. He lay transfixed, his breathing growing as heavy as his cock, when she lightly ran her hands over her breasts, palming the points. Then she slid one hand down her belly and dipped her fingers between her thighs and he could almost feel the moisture gathered there, smell the scent of her arousal in the air.
She sank to the bed and extinguished the light but he knew what she was doing and as surely as he knew triangulation, he knew that she’d been turned on by him. She wasn’t thinking about whatever Joe Blow she’d been engaged to. When she’d touched herself, Liam had been the man in mind.
And it was hot to know she was next door thinking of him while she fingered herself. She was hot. It had been a while since he’d been with a woman and he wanted her. He closed his eyes as he wrapped his hand around his cock. He didn’t think he’d ever been this horny. He let his mind drift….
Her eyes glittering the way they had earlier in the day, she lowered her head to his waiting penis. She dragged her wet tongue up one side and down the other, then she took him into the wet warmth of her mouth and sucked on him. Her mouth felt so good wrapped around him. He was damn near at the point of exploding. He dragged her off of his cock and flipped her to her back, lapping at her tight, taut nipples, suckling her while he filled his hands with her soft, full breasts. He couldn’t wait… couldn’t hold back… He nudged the head of his dick against her, coating himself with her slick juices and then buried himself deep inside her tight channel… again… and again… and again until he unloaded deep inside her while she spasmed around him, milking him with her orgasm.
Spent, he lay there, his breathing heavy and ragged.
And in his fevered brain, in the quiet of the night, he could’ve sworn he heard the faint echoes of her own cries as she found her release.
THE NEXT MORNING TANSY stood in her T-shirt and panties, scrambling eggs at the stove. She’d had the best night’s rest since she’d been here. Masturbation didn’t even come close to a man’s touch, the slide of skin against skin, the fullness of a man’s penis inside her, but her orgasm as she’d imagined hard, rough sex—which was unlike any sex she’d had before—with Sergeant Alpha-Male Sharpshooter next door had been great. She’d slept like a baby and woken up ravenous.
The screen door slammed and she glanced out the window. Liam wore running shoes, shorts and a sweatshirt. The man boasted some nice legs, that was for sure. She’d sort of missed that yesterday, she’d been so busy checking out other parts of his anatomy. Nicely muscled. He was just altogether a fine specimen of a man.
He took off at a jog on the trail to the left of the cabins that skirted the lake. Swimming. Running. It all explained that nice hard body. With a start she realized she was scorching her eggs. She yanked the pan off the burner. His arrogant self would probably love the fact that she’d nearly burned her breakfast because of him.
Regardless, she ate the eggs, at least the ones that hadn’t stuck to the bottom of the pan, and headed into the bedroom to get dressed. She eyed her meager wardrobe, hesitating in a way she never did over what to wear. Defiantly, she pulled on her least favorite shirt she’d packed and a pair of jeans. She might be in some crazy heightened sexual state over the man next door but she’d be damned if she’d alter her routine because of him.
Ten minutes later, face washed, teeth and hair brushed, minimal makeup on, she settled on the sofa with her laptop. She opened her document and got herself oriented in the work.

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