Free Winter’s Wolf by Tara Lain Page A

emerged into a small clearing. Winter stopped. “The stream’s over there.” He pointed. “Probably better to stay here and avoid the bugs and larger critters that might come to drink at night. We can fill our canteens and bring water if we need it.”
    Ollie set down the cooler with a huff. “I’ve got lots of water in here. Food too. Even brought some beer.”
    Winter shook his head. “Man, you are prepared.”
    Ollie started laying out his sleeping bag. “That’s my job.”
    Matt laid out his own sleeping bag on top of a thin foam pad, mostly to have a place to sit. Ollie hummed the cowboy song he’d played six times on the way up while he sorted through the food. Winter just sat on the dirt and leaned against his bedroll.
    Ollie tossed him a can. “Heads up.”
    The only muscle that moved in Winter’s body was the hand that raised lightning fast and brought down that can like a cat grabbing a bird in flight. “Thanks.” He popped the top and took a long pull. Just watching those lips move had to be classified as porn. Matt dragged his eyes away.
    Ollie chortled. “I figure we’re off duty, so we can suck back a cold one—or two.” He laughed. Ollie was probably going on forty, tall, wiry but muscular, and plain with sandy reddish hair that had a mind of its own. Maybe he was lonely and this night with the guys was his idea of a good time. He threw a beer to Matt, who opened it. The cold liquid burned both bitter and sweet going down—kind of like life.
    Matt leaned back. “You have a family, Ollie?”
    He kept pawing in the cooler. “Nah. Never met the right female, I guess.” He looked up with an odd expression. “Woman. Never met the right one.”
    Matt smiled. “You’re young. Plenty of time.”
    “Maybe. So what’ll it be? I’ve got turkey and ham sandwiches.”
    Winter looked across the open space. “Any beef?”
    “Sure thing. How about you, Matt?”
    “Turkey will be fine.”
    He delivered them each a sandwich, then returned to his seat and pulled out what looked like ham for himself. Winter ripped his neatly packaged sandwich apart, removed bread and tomato, and started loading the rare beef into his mouth.
    Matt bit into his turkey. “Not big on carbs, are we?”
    Winter just kept chewing.
    The sun had just set, but the dense canopy of trees made it darker.
    Winter lay back on the ground, stretching those long, long legs in front of him. Sweet Jesus, he was gorgeous. Matt pulled out his tablet and hotspot. Not much chance his case files would distract him from Winter’s thighs, but he had to try.
    Ollie huffed a couple of times. Maybe he wanted to tell ghost stories or make s’mores, but he finally pulled out what, from the beeps and clicks, had to be a video game. Winter appeared to go to sleep. Finally Ollie crawled into his sleeping bag and, with much flipping and flopping, prepared to sleep too. Matt kept on reading, but his eyelids drooped.
    Matt wasn’t sure how much time passed before Ollie suddenly ripped open his bag’s zipper. Matt started and opened his eyes a crack.
    Ollie grabbed a beer from the cooler and gathered his bag. “Sorry, guys, too many rocks and mosquitoes. I can’t sleep. I’m gonna go bed down in the car. Anyone want to come too?”
    Winter didn’t even crack an eyelid. Matt shook his head. “No. I’m fine. Sleep well.”
    Matt watched him go. No reason not to trust Ollie. Why don’t I? He readjusted the handgun he’d tucked under the edge of his sleeping bag and lay down.
    Ollie was one of those psychically noisy people who stirred the air even when he didn’t move or speak. Winter wasn’t. For minutes, all Matt could feel was Winter lying across the open space, but the quiet slipped up and his eyes closed.
     
     
    E YES OPENED . What time is it?
    Why am I awake?
    Matt stared up into the black canopy of the trees, glimpsing a few brilliant stars beyond. He sat up. Though the darkness prevailed, a waxing moon shone through the branches, and