Page 17 of Mountain Target

“Ignore them, boss. They’re insane,” Tristan said, chuckling. He and Lorenz had both chosen to get their own place.

“I’ll meet you back here tomorrow morning,” Beau said, grabbing his leather jacket and motorcycle helmet from the back of the SUV and putting it on. He knew Tristan would drive the SUV back to his place.

Beau had always enjoyed speed, but tonight he stayed well under the speed limit. Headaches and speed didn’t mix well, and though the road to his new apartment was familiar—Chamonix being a small town—it hadn’t yet become second-nature to him.

He parked in the garage and set the helmet down on one of the empty shelves, ready for the next morning.

He looked down at his watch.

Nine hours until he had to be out there again.

As he opened the garage door, something—someone—rammed him hard in the chest. He reached out to steady them, recognizing his neighbor by her bright red hair and that soft scent that he’d already noticed the first time they met, something fresh and warm, like a winter getaway.

“Hey. You okay?” he asked, still holding on to her upper arms.

“Sorry,” she breathed out. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“No problem,” he said, forcing himself to let go and taking a step back.

Even in the dim light from the garage, he could see that she looked exhausted. He could imagine why that might be, knowing what he knew about her sister’s death and about the girl, but of course he shouldn’t know about all that.

And he shouldn’t care about any of that.

His hands curled into a fist as one of his father’s favorite sayings came to mind.

Mêle-toi de tes oignons.

Mind your own business.

He’d made minding his own business one of the cardinal rules in his life. But one look at this woman, and he seemed to be forgetting everything he’d learned.

“Thank you,” she said. Then, raising her eyes—and damned if those light hazel eyes weren’t even more beautiful than he remembered—she spoke again. “How are you settling in? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” he said curtly.

She nodded, giving him a curious look. There was something in her expression that he couldn’t easily identify. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t concern. Then it came to him.

Desire.

And fuck if he didn’t feel it as well—like a magic thread pulling them together. He felt his cock harden behind his pants and was glad for the dark that meant it wouldn’t be as noticeable. The last thing he wanted was for her to become scared of him again.

“We’ve got to stop meeting in the dark,” she said, then gulped, realizing what she’d said.

His cock grew even harder, but he forced himself to keep a straight face.

Now he wished he hadn’t asked Marie about her. If he hadn’t known about the dead sister and the kid, he could have acted on this desire. If she was willing, they could have gotten it out of the way in one hot, sweaty night.

But because he had asked, that wasn’t an option.

He sighed.

You can’t have sex with no strings with a woman who just adopted a thirteen-year-old.

No way.

And he couldn’t offer her anything else.

She squeezed past him into the garage and went to pick up two large paper bags sitting on a shelf, staggering back momentarily under their weight.