Lena Diaz - Smoky Mountains Ranger

“McKenzie. What are—”

“Give me a minute.”

She blew out an irritated breath and held her hands out of the way as he threaded the rope through all the loops on her shorts. When he was done, he tied the end of the rope to another metal loop on his backpack, effectively anchoring them to each other, with just a few feet in between.

“McKenzie?”

He tilted her chin up so she was looking into his eyes. “Is your name really Jody?”

She swallowed, her whole body flushing with heat when she realized just how close her breasts were to his chest, her lips to his. “Y...yes. Jody Vanessa Ingram.” She hated that her voice came out a breathy whisper.

“Pretty name.”

“Vanessa was my biological mom’s name.” Why had she said that? It didn’t matter one bit under the circumstances.

He smiled. “Well, Jody Vanessa. We’re about to explore one of those possibilities I mentioned earlier. And I think it’s time you called me Adam. Don’t you?”

His deep voice and cool blue eyes seemed to cast a spell on her. She couldn’t think with him this close, could barely even breathe.

“Come on out from behind that rock and we won’t kill you,” Owen shouted. “All we want to do is talk.”

She blinked. The spell was broken. Thank goodness. “McKenzie... I mean, Adam. What’s the plan here? Why did you—”

He tugged the rope, pulling them even closer together. “This is where that trust part comes into play.”

She licked her suddenly dry lips. “I’m not sure what you—”

He grabbed one of the short, broken pieces of branch that he’d swept out of the way earlier and tossed it over the top of the boulder.

Boom! The stick exploded into sawdust.

Jody ducked down, even though she was already behind the boulder.

Adam winced but didn’t duck. “They’re better shots than I’d hoped. This is going to be close.”

“Close? What are you—”

He grabbed her around the waist.

She read the truth in his eyes and suddenly realized what he was going to do. The rope. The fact that he’d tied the two of them together. Him staring out at the Chimney Tops and telling her she needed to trust him. Her stomach lurched, and she pushed against his chest, to no avail. He didn’t budge and the rope wouldn’t have let her move very far anyway. “No. No, no, no. Please. I can’t do this. I’m too scared. I can’t .”

Sympathy filled his gaze. He brushed a featherlight caress down the side of her face. “Then I’ll just have to do it for both of us.” He grabbed two more sticks and threw them high into the air. Shots rang out. He yanked her forward, clasping her tightly against his chest as he raced in a crouch behind the boulders toward where the trail disappeared over the edge of the mountain.

“No!” she cried, desperately pushing against him. “Please!”

The gunmen shouted.

Adam yanked her forward. She screamed as they tumbled over the cliff.

They hit the ground hard, a tangle of arms and legs flopping end over end. Jody’s head snapped against Adam’s chest. Blood filled her mouth. She was too busy trying to grab a tree, a root, anything to stop their out-of-control roll down the steep mountainside to even cry out in pain.

“Hold on,” his voice rumbled next to her ear as his arms squeezed her against his chest.

She caught a glimpse of another steep drop, then sucked in a startled breath and closed her eyes. Shots rang out from somewhere above them as they plummeted into open space again.

We’re going to die.

Strong arms clasped her so tightly she thought her body would break in two. Then she hit something hard—or he did, because she was on top of him. Their entwined bodies bounced several more times and slid a heart-stopping few more yards. Then, just as suddenly as their wild flight had begun, it was over. His chest rose and fell beneath hers, his ragged breaths fanning against the top of her head. But other than that, and her own gasping breaths, the world was blessedly still.

We didn’t die.

Yet.

Her eyes flew open. Miraculously, her glasses had somehow survived the tumble down the mountain and were still on. Which gave her a startlingly clear view of a pair of brilliant blue eyes staring directly into hers from just inches away. It was only then that she realized just how intimately she was pressed against him. Her breasts were crushed to his chest, her cleavage straining the top of her lacy bra, her blouse having surrendered several buttons. Her right thigh was sandwiched between both of his legs, pressing against a very warm spot that left little to the imagination about just how well-proportioned he was to his taller-than-average height. Her cheeks flaming, she tried to scramble off him.

“Hold it, wait.” His harsh whisper had her going still as his hands tightened on her arms. He tilted his head back and looked up the mountain they’d just tumbled down, apparently searching for the gunmen.

Her gaze followed his. She didn’t see anyone. But what she did see had her shaking again. How they’d managed to fall so far through such rough terrain without being killed was a mystery. As she noticed the deep skid and slide marks down the grassy and rocky terrain, and the broken tree branches that marked their path, she realized that maybe it wasn’t such a mystery after all. Her benefactor had rolled and tugged and pulled her to him the entire ride down. That was the only thing that explained how they hadn’t crashed into boulders and trees and been killed. He’d done that. He’d protected both of them.

Or he’d protected her , at least.

Her eyes filled with tears as she realized just what his noble actions had cost him. Blood was drying on his face from his earlier cuts, likely from an altercation or ambush by the second gunman, the one named Owen. More blood streaked his arms and neck. A long gash marred his left biceps, blood trickling from a wound that was smeared with dirt. A black shadow was already darkening on his forehead where he’d obviously smacked it against something. And her? Other than a bitten tongue, dirty and torn clothes, and a few stinging minor cuts on her arms and legs, she was unharmed.

“You’re hurt,” she said. “I’m so sorry. Do you have a first-aid kit in your backpack? I can dress your wounds.”

His gaze shot to hers. “Are you okay? You’re crying.”

The concern in his voice as he reached a hand toward her had shame and guilt flaring up inside. She jerked back to scramble off him but slammed down against his chest because of the rope that still connected them.

“Sorry, sorry. Dang it.” She wiped the tears away and tried to tug the rope free.

“Here, let me.” His deep voice was soft again, gentle, as he pressed the carabiners on each side of his pack. A few quick tugs on the knots and they seemed to magically unravel. Another yank and the slick nylon rope pulled free from her belt loops.

She pressed against the ground on either side of his chest and pushed herself up off him, then sat back on her heels and yanked the ends of her blouse back together to cover her bra.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, sitting up.

She nodded. “Thanks to you, I’m fine. But you’re not.” She waved toward the dozens of cuts on his arms, his face. “You took the brunt of the fall to protect me. Why would you do that?”

He frowned as if in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s my job.”

She shook her head, unable to fathom such selfless thinking. “First-aid kit?”

“Later.” He pushed to his knees and looked up again. “I don’t see our two friends.”

She followed his gaze to the cliff, which seemed impossibly far away. She still couldn’t believe they’d rolled down the mountain and hadn’t gotten killed, or shot, or both. But thankfully the gunmen weren’t standing there, aiming a pistol at them.