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“You’ve been here before?” She wanted to know more. To fall asleep beside him, share a meal, argue. Everything, the good and the bad. There was so much more to him than his grumpy exterior had first suggested and the more time she spent with him, the greater the need to understand him grew within her.
He stretched his fingers around the steering wheel. “After we completed our basic BUDS training, we hotfooted it up here to the cold weather training facility on Kodiak Island.” He gave a chuckle. “No joke, coldest place on earth.”
“Do you miss it?”
Griff shifted in his seat. When he looked at her, darkness flickered in his gaze. “My teammates, yes. The places we went to, where ordinary people’s lives were being ripped apart? Not so much.”
She laced her fingers through his. “I’m glad you’re here now. With me.”
His fingers tightened around hers, firing warmth throughout her body. “Me too.”
After a slow ascent through the forest, the road became steeper, punctuated by hairpin bends. Soon the blacktop had given way to the smooth crunch of gravel. Griff pulled up outside the house at the end of the driveway. It was a modest two-story building, the wooden shuttering painted a soft dusty blue. White trim and a wraparound porch completed the picture. He cut the engine, and the sudden silence was jarring.
He opened her door and Jo exited the rental, her boots sinking into untouched snow. Her breaths came in frosty puffs, the frigid air burning her lungs. Two rockers rested side by side on the porch, arranged to take in the stunning mountain view.
The quiet weighed heavily on her, like the forest itself was holding its breath, waiting. Hairs on the back of her neck lifted. Out here, there was nowhere to hide. What if Raptor had gotten here first?
Griff pressed a protective hand to the small of her back. “Let’s see if anyone’s home,” he muttered, scanning the tree line warily as he climbed the porch steps.
The handle behind the screen door flexed downward and Jo’s ‘hello’ froze on her lips as she stared at the dark muzzle of a pump-action shotgun.
Instantly, Griff shoved her behind him, his massive frame blocking any potential attacker’s view.
“Wyatt. Seriously.” A woman’s voice chided the owner of the gun.
Jo stepped out from behind Griff, cognizant of his hand still across her belly in a defensive barrier.
The door was pushed open wide as a slight woman caught the edge of the gun with slender hands and pushed the muzzle toward the ground, but as soon as she let go, it pointed at Griff and Jo again.
“Honey. I told you we were expecting visitors.” She patted the intimidating man with the gun, Wyatt, on the arm, and left a floury imprint. Her hair was liberally threaded with silver and there were lines around her eyes and mouth that suggested her age was close to sixty. But there was a fire and spirit in her face Jo had seen extinguished in people much younger.
Wyatt’s gaze would singe paper. “Mom. You can’t be too careful.”
The woman tutted at her son and descended the steps. Above her perceptive moss-green eyes, her broad smile radiated contagious warmth. She shouted over her shoulder. “Ty. Come and speak to your son. Tell him he’s being overcautious.”
Wyatt lowered the gun immediately as she moved into the gun’s range. “Mom—”
She ignored him and approached Griff. “Griff Nyland?” She wiped floury hands on her red-checked apron and stuck out her hand.
Griff shook her hand. “Sophie Ivanova?”
She beamed. “Well, I’ve not been Ivanova for a very long time, but yes.” She waved a hand at her son. “My son Wyatt. Please excuse him. He’s been through some difficult times. Trust doesn’t come easy.”
On the porch, Wyatt’s expression gave the distinct impression he would eviscerate anyone who looked the wrong way at his mother.
“You must be Joanna?” Sophie turned from Griff and clasped Jo’s hand in both of hers. Her grip was firm and left Jo in no doubt there was far more to this woman than met the eye. If what Jo had read about her was true, her stance against Pharmasyn was a testament to that.
“Just Jo, please. It’s a pleasure.” Lightness swelled in Jo’s chest. She was so close to finding answers and just meeting Sophie imbibed her with confidence.
“Your flight arrived this morning?” Sophie glanced at her watch. “That’s hours ago. Please, come inside before you freeze. You must be starving.”
She wrapped an arm around Jo’s shoulder and guided her up the porch step past the imposing figure of Wyatt.
She slanted her head at him. “Wyatt is my eldest. He’s got a protective streak as wide as the Mississippi.” She squeezed his enormous biceps as she guided Jo past. “He just doesn’t know when to put it on hold. Do you, sweetheart?”
Wyatt rolled his eyes silently and Jo bit her lower lip to stifle a smile, not wanting him to think her rude.
Griff drew level with Wyatt. He offered Wyatt his hand. “Griff Nyland.”
