Hold On To Me

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

All Mitch wanted to do was get the hell off this mountain.

He packed up his gear in silence while Simone sat on the far side of the lookout, her knees pulled up to her chest, her knit hat tugged down low over her head. She hadn’t spoken much to him since it had grown light, and he hadn’t offered up any conversation either. Was he being an ass? Probably. Did he care? Not a bit. Last night was just one giant reminder that things between them were dead and buried, and the sooner he accepted that fact, the better off he’d be.

Latching his pack, he reached for her snowshoe—the one that had busted yesterday—and fixed the strap as best he could. He handed it to her. “Try to stay out of the powder with this one. Step where I step, and you should be fine.”

She accepted the snowshoe, her fingertips grazing his in the process, cold, hesitant, not a bit like the greedy hands that had fisted in his hair last night as she’d kissed him crazy. “Thanks.”

Not for kissing her. Not for making her feel anything. He was starting to wonder if the woman even had a heart.

Which was stupid because… He needed to stop thinking about her and pull his head out of his ass.

He pushed to his feet and slung his pack over his back. “Let’s go.”

The air was crisp when they stepped outside, chilling Mitch’s cheeks and causing ice crystals to catch in the scruff on his jaw. Three inches of new snow covered the ground, and he was thankful it wasn’t more. After latching on his snowshoes, he led the way down the hillside toward the car they’d parked at the gate. The two-mile trek was slow moving, and neither of them spoke, but it wasn’t nearly as much work—or as fun—as coming up. The only plus was that the lower they dropped in elevation, the easier it got thanks to the protection the trees provided from the stinging wind.

Simone didn’t speak, and once or twice he looked back to see she was doing exactly what he’d said—picking her way down the hill, stepping where he stepped, being careful she didn’t dislodge her snowshoe anymore. Occasionally she’d glance around, looking for that bear, he knew, but it didn’t amuse him like it had on the hike up. Instead, it pissed him off even more. He was done being such a pathetic schmuck. So he’d misread her in that safe room. There were worse things in life than being rejected.

He turned the corner and caught sight of the gate. It was closed, just as it had been before, but new snow littered the ground, covering everything in a fresh layer of white. Everything but their car.

Fuck. There were worse things than rejection.

Simone’s coat rustled next to him, followed by her heavy breathing. She drew to a stop at his side and fell silent.

“Um…” Her voice floated on the cool air. “Where’s the car?”

Frustration growing, Mitch moved around the Forest Service gate, rested his hands on his hips, and stared down at the fine powder. Tire tracks in the snow meant whoever had taken it had done it after the snow hit. Likely only hours ago.

“Mitch? Where’s the car?”

He turned a slow circle and looked around. A couple of footprints in the powder, but nothing more. “Gone.”

“What do you mean ‘gone’?” She moved around the gate.

“Gone as in… Someone stole it.”

Disbelief flooded her chocolate eyes. “All the way up here?”

“Yeah, all the way up here.”

Her dazed eyes scanned the area. “Who would do that?”

“Hikers most likely. Someone who’d parked below and was cold and didn’t want to keep going. Could be anyone really.”

“But…but we’re stuck.”

He hated that little edge of panic to her voice. Hated even more that it got to him. “We’re only about eight miles from the lake. Three at most to the highway.” He pulled out his phone. No service. Shoving it back in his pocket, he started walking and gestured for her to follow.

She hustled to keep up. “You’re not planning to walk all the way to the lake, are you?”

“Not all the way.” Just until he could get a signal and call Ford. Or catch a ride with someone heading toward Tahoe. But in his pissy mood, he didn’t feel like sharing much more. She didn’t want to share anything. Hell, two could play that game.

They followed the twisting road down the mountain. It wasn’t steep, but several times Mitch had to wait for Simone to catch up. Luckily, though, she didn’t complain once, and he had to hand it to her, for a city chick—for one he knew was still freaked about running into another bear—she was holding her own. And that fact didn’t turn him on, dammit. He was done being turned on by her.

The closer they got to the highway, the more signs there were that others had been in the area. Snowshoe markings, cross-country ski tracks, footprints. By the time they reached the parking lot, tracks were everywhere, and they found three other cars parked near the road. But no sign of their SUV.

Mitch pulled his glove off and reached for his cell in his pocket. His fingers felt like ice as they closed around the small device. Still no service. Frowning, he looked up and around and spotted a man loading cross-country skis in the back of his pickup.

“My feet are killing me.” Simone plopped down on a rock to remove her snowshoes.

“Stay here,” he said to her.

He crossed to the red Toyota and introduced himself. The guy looked to be in his late fifties, rugged, a total local. Said his name was Judd.

“Are you heading toward the lake or Truckee?” Mitch asked.

“Incline Village,” Judd answered. “Just got out for a few hours of fresh air before the missus puts me to work. She’s always got jobs for me around the house.”

He smiled and winked in a way that said you know what I mean? But Mitch found himself scowling instead of smiling back. No, he didn’t know what the guy meant. And he probably never would. After Simone, he couldn’t see himself getting involved with another woman. Short-term relationships were the only way to go. Less damage to his ego that way. Definitely safer for his heart.

“Our rig was stolen while we were off hiking. Any chance my”—shit, what did he call Simone?— “friend and I could get a ride into town?”

The man glanced past Mitch toward Simone sitting on a rock. To her credit, she waved and smiled, putting on a good show. She’d obviously learned how to do that—pretend like nothing bothered her—and Mitch wondered why the hell he hadn’t picked up on that sooner.

Shaking the thought out of his head, he refocused on the man who was saving their bacon.

“Sure,” Judd answered. “Might be kind of tight, though. Truck’s only got two seats. As long as you and your girl don’t mind sharing, the more the merrier.”

Simone wasn’t his girl, and she never really had been. That was the problem here. For a minute, Mitch reconsidered. Freezing to death didn’t sound so bad, not when he was faced with having to cozy up to Simone so soon after she’d kicked his teeth in—again.

He worked up a smile for Judd. Only for Judd. “Perfect. We appreciate it, man.”

He turned and motioned for Simone to join them. Judd moved around the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat. When Simone reached Mitch’s side, she was breathless again, her cheeks rosy, her nose a red little ball in the center of her face he didn’t want to kiss, dammit.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I got us a ride.” He pulled the door open. “Judd, this is Simone.”

Judd smiled and leaned toward the steering wheel to get a better look at her. “Well, hello, pretty lady.” He looked past Simone to Mitch. “You caught yourself a nice one there. Go ahead and toss your gear in the back.”

Mitch pulled off his pack and put it in the bed of the truck. As Simone handed him her snowshoes, she whispered, “What am I, a fish?”

He put his snowshoes in the back with hers and shot her a warning look. “No, fish have hearts. We can leave you out here if you’d rather.”

She glared his way and moved toward the open door, but when she looked inside again, her eyes flared, just a touch. “There’s only one seat.”

“I told your husband it would be tight,” Judd said, flipping on the heaters.

“He’s not my husband.”

Mitch came around next to her and climbed into the truck. The way he figured it, the less this guy knew, the better off they’d all be. “Boyfriend.” He grabbed Simone’s hand and tugged her in to sit on his lap. “Always have to be so technical, don’t you, honey?”

She narrowed her eyes and looked down at him while he pulled the door closed. He fixed her with a silent look, telling her to deal with it.

The truck bounced along the snowy gravel as Judd backed out of the lot, then shifted into gear. Simone braced one hand on the dashboard and slid the other around Mitch’s shoulder to keep from falling off his lap. Heat seeped into Mitch’s skin even through the layers of clothing between them, and her scent filled his head, making him achingly aware of her cute little ass brushing his groin with every single rock of the vehicle.

Stay focused. She doesn’t want you, remember?

“You two up here vacationing?”

“We don’t look like locals to you?” Simone asked.

Judd slid a look over her spendy parka and new hiking boots, the ones they’d snagged from Kendrick’s house, which he kept around for guests. “No, definitely not locals. My guess is San Francisco. Maybe LA, but I doubt it.”

Simone tensed against his lap, and Mitch snaked his arm around her waist to hold her in place. The last thing he needed was for her to give this local any reason to tell people about the strange couple he’d picked up on the road. If someone was looking for them, he wasn’t leaving a trail. “Seattle, actually. We flew into Reno a few days ago and rented a car. Gonna be a bitch explaining how we lost it to the rental agency.”

“Eh, they have those things insured,” Judd said as he pulled out onto the highway. “You’ll be fine.”

Simone turned to look down at Mitch, and the surprise in her eyes told him she hadn’t expected him to be able to lie so easily.

See, sweetheart, you’re not the only one who can do it.

Tearing his gaze from hers, he looked out the windshield at the wet pavement. The hills on both sides of the road were all covered in snow, making the area look like a winter wonderland.

Her jacket was puffy and thick, but he could still feel her breast pressing sideways against his chest, could still feel her heat radiating into every inch of his body. Clenching his jaw, Mitch told himself to just get through this, then it would be smooth sailing.

“What is that?” Simone asked.

They rounded a bend, and brake lights shone in the distance. As Judd slowed the vehicle, Mitch looked past Simone toward a fire truck on the side of the road and the handful of firefighters hosing down a smoking vehicle. He couldn’t tell what kind of car it had been at first. It was nothing more than a blackened pile of burned metal. Then he caught sight of the bumper, lying askew against the pavement, and the license plate angled their direction.

“Oh my God,” Simone muttered.

“Ouch,” Judd muttered. “Guarantee whoever was in that car didn’t make it.”

The hillside next to the wreckage was black, the snow all melted. The highway had been closed down to one lane, and police were directing traffic. Mitch scanned the accident scene as they crept by. A black SUV, definitely, just like the one they’d driven.

“Crying shame,” Judd muttered.

“Looks like they lost it on the ice,” Mitch managed, his throat thick. Though that wasn’t really what it looked like to him. It looked like the vehicle had caught fire somehow and gone up in flames.

“That wasn’t just ice, sonny,” Judd answered. “Looks like a bomb went off.”

Simone’s head jerked Mitch’s way, and he saw the horror in her eyes.

He knew what she was thinking. The same damn thing he was. He shook his head slowly, hoping she didn’t do or say anything to give them away.

They passed the accident, and, thankfully, traffic slowly picked up. Tugging the phone from his pocket, Mitch looked down at the screen and silently rejoiced when it registered service. Simone shifted on his lap to see what he was looking at, and sparks of electricity pulsed through his groin on reflex.

Dammit. The sooner they got to town, the faster he could get away from her and her sultry heat. And figure out what the hell was going on.

In town, at the junction of Highway 28, which ran around the lake, Judd asked, “What hotel are you two staying at?”

“We’re actually staying at a condo,” Mitch said. “If you could just drop us at the Safeway around the corner, we can give our friends a call to pick us up.”

“Sure that’s where you want to go?” Judd asked, making a right turn.

No, Mitch wanted to get the hell out of here, but it was the best he could do for now. He nodded.

Judd pulled into the grocery store’s parking lot and put the truck in Park. Simone popped the door and climbed out, leaving behind a chill that spread over Mitch.

“Thank you so much,” Simone said.

Mitch grabbed his pack and their snowshoes from the bed of the truck, then looked back into the cab. “We appreciate it.”

“No problem. You two have a great vacation.”

Judd waved and pulled out of the parking lot. When they were alone, Simone turned her worried gaze on Mitch. “That was our car.”

“Not here.” Mitch nodded toward the store. “Why don’t you get us some coffee? They’ve got a Starbucks.”

Simone flashed him an annoyed look, but he didn’t care.

“I’ll meet you out here in a few minutes.” He swung his pack over his shoulder and headed away from the store, into an empty area of the parking lot, and dialed Ford’s number.

“Ben Ford,” a voice said in his ear moments later.

“Hey, Ford. It’s Mathews. We need a ride.”

“Where the hell have you been?” Ford asked. “I was about to send Search and Rescue up to Martis Peak to look for you. You were supposed to check in hours ago.”

Mitch was thankful that hadn’t happened. “Sorry about that. We got snowed in at the lookout last night. When we came down this morning, we discovered our car was gone.”

“Damn vandals. Nowhere’s safe anymore. Where are you?”

Mitch had a sinking feeling it wasn’t just vandals, but he wasn’t about to tell Ford that. “Tahoe Vista. Safeway parking lot.”

“Car’s on its way.”

“Thanks, man. I do need one other favor, though.”

“Shoot.”

“Kendrick mentioned you have a contact at the local police department. We passed an accident on the way down the mountain. Can you find out the make and model of the car and if anyone was injured?”

“Yeah,” Ford said hesitantly. “You think it was your ride?”

Um, yeah, he was almost positive it was their ride. “I don’t know,” he lied. “But if it was, it’s a rental, and I need to be able to tell the agency what happened.”

“Okay,” Ford answered. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

When Mitch hung up, Simone was just walking out the grocery store’s automatic doors, two steaming paper cups in her gloved hands. His heart squeezed at the sight of her, and another burst of loss rushed through him, a reaction that only irritated him more. He was done getting his teeth kicked in. Done pretending this wasn’t exactly what it was: the worst damn thing he could imagine.

He took the cup from her without looking into her eyes. Yeah, he was done doing that too. “Thanks.”

“Did you get a hold of Ford?” She wrapped both hands around her cup and shivered, and he fought the urge to pull her close and warm her with his body.

“He’s on his way.”

She pressed her lips together and glanced around the parking lot. They were far enough from any other cars, so no one wandering in and out of the store could hear them. “That wasn’t a random accident up there, was it?”

“I don’t know.”

“But there was no other car.”

“It could have been any number of things.” But even he didn’t believe that. His brain had been whirring since he’d seen the wreckage, trying to figure out how anyone had found them. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“But if they know we’re here—”

“No one knows we’re here. And even if they did know we were in the area, they obviously don’t know exactly where. Kendrick’s house is still the safest place.”

For the time being. But how long would that last?

She didn’t continue arguing, and he didn’t bother to look at her. Sipping his coffee, he glanced around the parking lot. After several long seconds, she said, “Mitch, about last night… I—”

Oh no. He wasn’t going there.

“Don’t.” He dropped down to sit on the cement base of a light pole. “Let’s not rehash something that doesn’t need rehashing. You got what you wanted.”

“And what is that?” she asked quietly.

He lifted his cup to his lips and built up a layer of ice over what was left of his heart. Maybe Ryan had it right all those years after he’d lost his wife. Being a total ass was the only way to protect yourself from this kind of misery. “You wanted to be done with me? Well I’m way past done. I’m charbroiled.”

Simone didn’t respond, and as silence stretched between them in the brisk air, Mitch told himself that was fine. That was the way it was supposed to be.

A sleek new Range Rover pulled into the parking lot, heading their way. Mitch’s head came up, and he narrowed his eyes to see through the windshield. A frown pulled at his lips when he recognized the face. “Fuck me.”

This so wasn’t what he needed right now.

“What’s going on? Simone asked, turning from the golf course she’d been staring at to the right of the parking lot.

Mitch pushed to his feet and stuffed one hand into the pocket of his jeans. “Our ride’s here.”

The Range Rover drew to a stop, and Tate Kendrick unraveled himself from the driver’s seat. “Dude,” he said, glancing over Mitch as he rested his arm on the open doorframe. “You look like hell.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know.” Holding the coffee in one hand, he stepped toward Tate, caught his hand, and tugged him in for a one-armed hug.

Tate chuckled. “You could act sorta thankful to see me, you know.”

Mitch was thankful to see him. More than he’d expected. “What are you doing here?”

Tate slid both hands in the front pockets of his worn jeans and shrugged, his shoulders lifting and falling in the gray sweater, his snow boots scuffing the parking lot as he moved. “Ford called last night all wigged out that he’d lost you two. I told him not to sweat it, and that you and Mother Nature had a thing going, but I don’t think he believed me.”

“So you flew down here to check on me?”

Tate grinned and shook his shaggy dark hair back from his face, bringing all his rock star good looks into Hollywood mode. “I was having writer’s block. Change of scenery’s always good for me.” He glanced past Mitch toward Simone, and his eyes widened. “Hey, there. You must be the sexy lawyer I’ve heard so much about.”

Mitch’s jaw clenched. Without looking at Simone, Mitch said, “Tate Kendrick, Simone Conners.”

“How do you do,” Simone said.

Tate shoved Mitch out of his way and made a beeline straight for Simone. Wrapping both hands around hers, he tugged off her glove and pulled her hand to his mouth for a kiss. “Baby, you’re freezing. This jackass doesn’t know how to show a girl a good time. Spend a few hours with me, and I promise you’ll never think of him again.”

Mitch turned to look, then regretted it. Simone’s amused expression said she wasn’t sure what to make of Tate, but she wasn’t pulling her hand from his lips or telling him to back off like she’d done with Mitch.

Irritation got the best of him as he watched Tate blowing his warm breath over her small hand. “Okay, stop mauling her, Kendrick. She’s not one of your groupies.”

Tate ignored Mitch. Just focused on Simone, pulling her with him as he turned, hooking her hand through his arm and leading her to the car. “He’s just jealous. Ignore him.” He opened the passenger door and offered it to her. “Your white knight is here, madam.”

“Um…” Simone glanced at Mitch, then back at Tate. “Thanks. I think.”

“God Almighty,” Mitch muttered.

Tate grinned and winked down at Simone as she sat and pulled her legs into the new vehicle. “Was he this much fun on your hike? You poor, poor thing.”

Simone didn’t answer, and when Tate closed the door and turned back to him, Mitch shot him a glare. “Pouring it on just a little thick, don’t you think, music man?”

“Just trying to cheer her up. Someone’s got to. I can tell from your peachy mood you didn’t.”

He rounded the car for the driver’s side. “Come on. It’s fucking cold out here.”

Mitch frowned again and picked up his pack and the snowshoes, then climbed into the backseat. Warmth enveloped him, but it wasn’t the warmth he wanted. No, the warmth he still stupidly wanted was sitting in the front seat, angled toward Tate, making small talk about the weather or some other dumb topic.

He watched the scenery as they headed back to Tate’s house and tuned out Tate’s flirting. Simone was right to worry. Someone did know they were here. He just couldn’t figure out how.

By the time they made it back to the house, all that resentment he’d squashed was back full-bore, and this time it wasn’t just Simone’s fault—and that pissed him off more. All he wanted was a stiff drink, a shower, and a bed where he could crash for a few hours. What he had was a nightmare he knew he had to deal with now rather than later.

They pulled into the garage. Tate killed the engine and popped the door. The guy was too busy telling Simone about the property he’d purchased and his headache with the builder to care what Mitch was up to. After dropping the snow gear in the garage, Mitch stomped the snow from his boots and followed them toward the house. Inside he was immediately surrounded by warmth, but it quickly chilled when Simone stopped talking midsentence. She glanced his way, and a dark look spread over her features, one Mitch wasn’t going to feel guilty about.

She turned her attention back to Tate. “I’m going to take a shower. Thanks for picking us up.”

“No problem,” Tate said with a shit-eating grin. “Take as long as you like.”

She disappeared up the stairs.

“Wow,” Tate muttered when they were alone. “She really does not like you.”

Mitch tugged off his jacket and hung it on a hook near the door, then toed off his boots. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

“What the hell did you do to her?”

What had he done? Yeah, it was all him. He pushed past Tate and headed for the kitchen. Instead of the alcohol he really wanted, he opted for a soda from the fridge “I’m really not in the mood to talk about it.”

Tate followed, pulling his cell from his back pocket. “You might have to in a few minutes.”

Mitch popped the top on the can and took a long swallow. “Why?”

Tate held up his phone. “Text from Ford. Harrison and his wife are on their way. Should be here anytime. Think that means they have some answers for you?”

Mitch’s hand froze with the can midway to his mouth. Yeah, that was exactly what it meant. And he knew instinctively it wasn’t going to be good. Because if it was good news, Ryan would simply call.

His stomach churned with a mixture of fear and dread. Now more than ever, he really needed that drink, but because he needed to keep his head screwed on tight tonight, that wasn’t going to happen. “I think that means I’m about to get fucked. And not in a good way.”