Cold Foot Komodo (Wreck’s Mountains Book 2)

This was the most she’d ever bought in a single grocery trip, ever. It had taken two carts to get everything to her truck.

Truthfully, she was relieved to find Reed was still at the house and hadn’t abandoned his mission to get her to Cold Foot territory safely.

He had the lights on, and the fire smoke was billowing out the chimney, not into the house. Oh, Reed was a fixer, and he was fast at it.

He was doing something with a hose that was attached to some contraption and led out the open garage door.

He wiped his hands on a rag and sauntered out of the garage, met her at the back of the truck as she unloaded the first few bags of groceries.

“The hot water heater was just full of dirt at the bottom. I’m draining it now. It’ll work just fine. I also got the power restarted and the floor swept up. That couch is a mess though. Might consider getting a different one.”

“You’re kind of awesome, you know that?” she asked.

His face went almost comically blank. “What did you say?”

Now this was a man not used to compliments. She hefted a couple more bags into her arms and looked him in the eye. “I think you are awesome.” And then she tromped through the overgrown yard, arms loaded down with heavy bags.

At the door, she dared a glance back at him, but he was just looking at her with the same blank stare like she’d shorted out a chip in his brain. She giggled and hauled her wares inside.

He followed with a load of groceries, but was dead-silent as they walked back and forth from the house to the truck, unloading it. He looked lost in thought. On the last trip, he brought in two cases of water bottles while she shut the truck up and locked it.

“You shouldn’t say that stuff to me,” he told her quietly.

“What, that you are awesome?” she asked, unfolding her pocketknife to cut into the packaging of the water bottles.

“I’m just here to make sure you move in easily. Wreck ordered me to.”

“Great. It’s appreciated. By me. Because I think you’re awesome.” Yes, she was poking at him, but she couldn’t help it. He was thrown off-kilter easily.

He shook his head, and a rumbling sound filled the room. When he looked up at her again, his blue eye was much brighter and seemed to be glowing from the inside out. His face looked sharper, and the room felt heavy, and she struggled to draw a deep breath into her lungs.

“Sorry,” she whispered, dropping her gaze.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just…I’m too much. Don’t say nice things to me.”

“Fine. You’re an asshole.”

Three breaths passed before a slow smile stretched his face. “That’s better.”

She watched him turn his back to her and get to work unloading cleaning supplies into the cupboards under the sink.

“Where are you from originally?”

“Here and there.”

Annoying. “How did you end up in Wreck’s Crew?”

“Probably by mistake.”

His answers were so dry and emotionless.

“How close do you live to my sister?”

“Look,” he said, glaring at her. “You don’t need my attention, and I don’t need yours. I’m here to do a job, and we both know you’ll probably be headed back to Wyoming two weeks from now, so we don’t need to do the small talk.”

His response shocked her. It shocked her, and then it made her sad.

“It must’ve been very hard in Cold Foot Prison. This all must be a lot for you.”

A frown drifted across his face, but she didn’t need a response. She knew she’d guessed right. She couldn’t imagine what he’d been through in that prison. Timber had told her a few stories about that place that had given her nightmares.

She opened a can of wipes and began scrubbing the counters. “When I was a kid, my home was a battleground. My mother, she’s complicated. And harsh. And judgmental. The best way to deal with her is to not get her attention.” She dared a glance over her shoulder at him. Reed was leaned against the kitchen island, arms crossed, one ankle crossed over the other, watching her.

“When I went to college,” she continued, “I carried the habits I’d built to keep myself safe. I kept people at a distance. I was standoffish and I put everyone in their place, which to me, was best if their place was far away from the real me. It took me three years to settle into my own skin and realize that not everyone in the world meant me harm.” Her rag was dirty, so she plucked another one from the canister. “You’re a few weeks out of a situation that probably required you to have walls the height of the sky. If you settle into your own skin faster than three years, well, you would be doing better than I did.”

When she looked over her shoulder at him again, he was staring at the ground. Reed pushed off the counter and strode for the bedroom, grabbing the plastic bag of bedding as he went.

She’d angered him. She knew she had. Sasha didn’t know why, but it ripped at her guts as she watched him disappear. Stupid. Sometimes she said stupid things. She didn’t know him, didn’t know his story. It was none of her business.

She knew on instinct she needed to leave him alone and give him space, but that wasn’t her way. This had always been her problem in every relationship. She clung if she was insecure about something she’d done wrong, because she just wanted to be good enough. Sure, she’d taken three years to settle into her own skin, but she still carried baggage. She tried to convince herself to leave him alone, but she saw the sandwiches she’d bought from the deli section of the store. She grabbed the bag, and with it gripped in her hand, she walked to the doorway of the bedroom.

Reed wasn’t making the bed as she’d imagined, though. He was standing against the opposite wall, in the dark, with his forehead against the drywall. He rolled his head back and forth against it, and Sasha stopped her advance.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I have no right to guess. You’re right. We aren’t friends. We are strangers.”

“Stop saying sorry,” he gritted out.

“Sss—”

“Stop.”

Sasha pursed her lips against the urge to say sorry for saying sorry. Instead, she set the bag down on the carpet in the doorway and settled the sandwich, the soda she’d bought, and the bag of chips on top of it like a little picnic. “I was thinking about you at the store, and I thought you might get hungry. I didn’t mean to assume.”

“You’re a badass nurse, Sasha. You drove a fucking truck from Wyoming to Nowheresville, Montana by yourself, knowing you wouldn’t know shit about fuck when you got here.” He turned, and looked from the food to her. “Don’t go submissive for anyone.”

“I don’t…” She was utterly baffled. “I don’t know what to say.”

His eyes held emotions she didn’t understand. “Have you eaten?”

“I ate breakfast this morning at a rest stop.”

He took a couple of beats before he sank down onto the carpet by the food. He bent up a knee and rested a forearm on it, then gestured to the food. “Your sister probably ordered all the food in town for your welcome-home party. We can split this.”

“Yeah?” It seemed like an olive branch. A truce.

“Sit down, Sasha.”

She secretly liked the way he said her name, and the way his voice went all deep and sexy when he demanded she do something. Normally if a man told her to do something, she would tell him to piss off and point to the exact butt cheek he could kiss as she walked away, middle finger up, but with Reed, she knew he was a slow open. He was so damn interesting.

He handed her half of the sandwich, and she took a big bite. It was a club sandwich with turkey, ham, provolone cheese, tomato, bacon, avocado spread, and crunchy lettuce on wheat bread. The chips were off-brand and covered in sea salt, and they were delicious. They ate in silence for most of the meal, until he popped the top of the soda and offered it to her.

“Nobody gets grape soda but kids,” he grumbled.

“Hey. Grape soda is the love of my life.”

“What are you, twelve?” he teased, and the spark was back in his eyes.

“Studies show that if you enjoy childlike things as an adult, you live longer,” she said around a bite of sandwich.

“Bullshit.”

“Yeah, I actually might have made that up, or dreamed it,” she said, laughing. She swallowed and sipped the soda, then handed it to him. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

Reed rolled his eyes, and then took a sip. He kept a poker face, but she could see it there in his eyes. He didn’t hate it.

He took another sip.

“I told you.”

“It’s not my favorite,” he grumbled.

“But it’s not your least favorite. We can be twelve-year-olds together. Don’t worry, I won’t tell any of your super-cool shifter friends that you like grape soda.”

He scoffed. “What makes you think I have super-cool shifter friends?”

“Because you’re a cool guy. Cool guys hang out with the cool guys.”

“Chhh. I’m not a cool guy.”

“Oh please. You’re all tall and hot and stoic, and you know how to fix everything.”

His eyes had gone wide, and he laughed. “I don’t even remember the last time anyone called me hot.”

“Probably because you were in the men’s side of a prison.”

The smile faded a little. “That’s true.” He inhaled deeply, took the last bite of his sandwich, and narrowed his eyes at her thoughtfully while he chewed. “Four years.”

Confused, she asked, “Four years aaand…you’re going to settle into your own skin again?”

“Four years ago, I was supposed to be released from Cold Foot Prison.”

Stunned, she didn’t know what to say. It took her a few seconds to compose herself and ask, “What happened?”

“My release date came and went, and they didn’t let me out. I asked, but there were always bullshit excuses, and then I was put in solitary for being too loud about wanting out. I was in solitary for six months.”

“Oh my gosh, Reed,” she whispered, horrified.

“If Damon Daye and Wreck hadn’t broken me out of there, I would’ve died in Cold Foot. No one was going to ever let me out.”

“Why not?”

“Because I kept the peace when the guards needed me to keep the peace.”

“What does that mean? That was your job as a prisoner?”

“I’m just good at it, I guess. I’ve always been able to defuse situations. I’m a watcher. I am quiet, and I pay attention, and then I can dig into someone’s psyche and calm them down when they are ramped up. The guards needed me.”

“So they decided to keep you.”

He nodded once, his bi-colored eyes intent on her.

“They used you at the cost of your freedom?”

Another nod.

“How long were you supposed to be in there?”

“I was sentenced to six years, but I was in there for ten years total.”

Her eyes burned, but she didn’t understand why. “What did you do to get in there?”

He shook his head slowly, denying her the answer, and that was okay. It really was. He had already shared a shocking amount.

“Did you hurt anyone?” she asked.

He didn’t answer.

“Am I safe?” she asked.

“You are safe,” he told her. “I have never hurt a woman.”

And she believed him. Truly, she did. He was looking right into her soul as he told her that.

“I didn’t like what you said earlier,” he murmured.

“About you being awesome? Sorry, friend. Sometimes you need to hear compliments. It’s good for you. Like carrots, or spa days.”

“What’s a spa day?”

“Oh, it’s where you get facials and massages, and get pampered. I have one every year on my birthday. I treat myself.”

“Your man doesn’t treat you?”

“My man vamoosed probably around the time you were supposed to be released from prison.”

“Mmm,” he said, and took another drink of grape soda.

“It wasn’t his fault,” she said softly, remembering. “I am a lot.”

“You cheated or something?”

“What? Hell no. Never. I am loyal in relationships. Cheating is not my style at all. I just…” She shrugged. “I put up walls, and I keep distance. My head is really loud with insecurities sometimes. I kept getting feelings that he was interested in other people, and he couldn’t take my constant questioning. I feel like I go crazy in relationships. I’m better single, you know?”

“Was he interested in other people?” Reed asked.

She pursed her lips. “He would never say. He did marry a girl that I suspected within the first year of our split though. He said I pushed him into it. I accused him of it so much that his head went there, and then he fell for the person I suspected. She worked with him. So…his leaving was my fault.”

Reed narrowed his eyes. “You don’t actually believe that, do you?”

Sasha shrugged. “I don’t know. Yes? I think? He was very convincing.”

“I would bet my only pair of boots he was engaging in the fantasy with that woman. You weren’t crazy. You had instincts, and you were right to call him on it.”

“My mom blamed me for ruining my relationship with Sam. She called him ‘the only ten I would ever convince to settle for me.’ She even sent him a wedding present when he married the woman I suspected. He texted me a picture of the card my mom sent with the gift. She wrote, The biggest mistake my daughter ever made was letting you go. You deserve happiness, and she couldn’t give you that. You chose well. I’ve repeated her words over and over in my head over the last few years. It’s burned into my memory.”

“Ahh, so it was your mother who helped you believe his bullshit.”

Her world felt like it was turning upside down. Wait was he cheating? Did he gaslight her? Did he trick her? There were so many red flags. She’d caught them texting. She’d opened his phone on one of her texts one night, and it felt too comfortable—the way they were talking to each other. But he’d said it was strictly a work relationship, and that Sasha was becoming unattractive because she was questioning him all the time. And then he stopped sleeping with her. And then he stopped complimenting her. And then he was staying at work later and later, and she was losing herself in work to escape how awful she felt about herself in that relationship. “It’s all done now. In the past. It doesn’t help to dwell on it.”

“It does if you learn that your instincts are credible. He married the exact girl you suspected.” He arched his eyebrows. “He married,” he said slower, “the exact woman you suspected, and quickly, and he had you convinced you were the problem.”

Her ears were getting hot. “I’m getting a little mad.”

“Good. Fuck that dude.”

“Fuck that dude,” she whispered. “I’ve felt so stupid this whole time.”

“Sounds like he and your mom were pretty far in your head.”

“Yeah. None of this makes me want to get into a relationship again. That hurt. I don’t want another man to have the power to do that to my head.”

“That’s fair.”

“What about you? Did you have all the girls visiting you in prison? Did you have pen pals? Did you write dirty letters back and forth?” she teased.

Reed laughed and shoved the trash into the bag, then stood. “A man should get a woman when he can take care of a woman’s needs. I couldn’t do that from Cold Foot. No girls for me. Not since I went in.”

“But before you went in, you had lots of girls.”

He gave her a cocky grin as he helped her up. “I used to know how to talk to women.”

“I bet you were so smooth,” she said, dusting off her butt, because this carpet looked really gnarly.

“Maybe once upon a time. Then life happened.”

“I bet if we went to a bar in town, you would be able to pull at least one of the four single women in town, for sure, on account of…you know…the hotness.”

“Do you just build up people’s egos everywhere you go?”

“What? No. I mean…maybe. I just say the nice things I think. I don’t blow smoke though.”

“You think I’m hot then?”

She pursed her lips and got quiet as heat crept into her cheeks. “I mean, if I was one of the four single women in town and I saw you at the bar, I would be hoping you would buy me a drink. Not because I need a man to buy me a drink, mind you. I can buy my own drinks, but I would hope that you would offer because I’m pretty sure that’s how people flirt in bars. I saw it on TV.”

The smile faded from his lips, and Reed’s eyes sparked with the intensity of whatever he was thinking of saying next. But when he parted his lips to speak, his phone rang from his pocket.

“Shhit,” he muttered, and then answered the call as he walked into the hallway and toward the living room. “Yeah? Yep. Okay, we’ll head your way now. No, we’re at a good stopping point. Yep, see you in thirty.” Reed twisted around as he hung up and asked Sasha, “Are you ready? Wreck said they’re waiting on us. Your sister is getting antsy.”

“Oh, yeah.” She looked around the chaos of the living and kitchen area, cluttered with boxes and grocery bags. The clock on the microwave was blinking 0:00 because of the lost power, so she had to check her phone to see the time. 7:00 p.m.

“Would you mind if I follow you up there in my truck? That way you don’t have to give me a ride back tonight too late.”

“I don’t mind giving you a ride back. Maybe bring a change of clothes in case your sister insists you stay at her place though. Bad weather is supposed to hit around midnight. I can bring you back down in the morning if you want, on my way to work. I start at seven.”

She considered his offer. She didn’t even have bedding on the dingy mattress in the bedroom, and kind of wanted to get a new one before she put her new sheets on there. She could go shopping for that tomorrow, after he dropped her off.

“That works. I appreciate you, Mister Awesome.”

He shook his head and walked away, but not before she saw a glimpse of the smile on his face. She might be annoying, but a part of him found her amusing too, and that was a win with a quiet man like Reed.

Quick as she could, she pulled her toothbrush, a change of clothes, and pajamas from one of her giant suitcases, shoved it all into a backpack, then locked up the house. Outside, Reed was messing with the tire on her truck that had been leaking air today.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Patching your tire.”

“Of course you know how to patch a tire.” She grabbed her jacket out of the truck and locked it up just as he was finishing up, and hauling his supplies back to his pickup.

She didn’t know him very well, but she just knew the tire was fixed. She trusted him, even if it was too soon for that.

Today had been wild, but she felt like she had a partner in crime. A friend. A hot buddy that knew what he was doing and where he was going.

A guide, of sorts.

A guardian angel, perhaps.

A very, very hot and complicated guide.