Sharon’s Wolves(2)

He’d seen Sharon. Plenty of times in the last few months. Every time he went skiing he saw her. Hell, he’d reached a point where he wasn’t sure what his motives were each time he headed for the slopes. Skiing for sport? Or torturing himself with the sexy woman whose parents owned the place?

But no matter how hard his dick got when he saw her, he wasn’t interested in sharing. And to the best of his knowledge, her entire family lived in strange groups of three.

Jazmine shook her head again. “Perfect. Because Sharon isn’t interested in sharing, either.”

Jackson sighed. “You can’t really know that. It’s what she’s surrounded with. People tend to do what they know. Aren’t every one of her brothers involved with two other people?”

“Yes, but Sharon’s not like that. She’s—”

He held up a hand. “No. Not interested. Now scram. I have to get home, change, and head to a logging site.”

“Oh, all right.” Her shoulders slumped, and she stuck out her bottom lip in a fake pout. “Why are you still working two jobs anyway? You’re going to run yourself into the ground.”

“I like it.” He stood, hoping she’d take the hint and leave him alone. “After sitting in this stuffy office for days on end working numbers at a computer, it’s refreshing to take the occasional inspection job outside where I can smell the distinct scent of fresh-cut trees and pine needles.” He inhaled slowly, letting his eyes close halfway just thinking about getting outside.

That was why he took up skiing—to be outside. And hiking. The side job as the local logging inspector was perfect.

Jazmine hugged him, a bit harder than usual, and left, mumbling something about how pigheaded he was.

Jackson locked his office and headed for his truck. He needed to get home and change. He wasn’t super excited about this particular inspection. The owner of this crew, Roger Barkley, had a tendency to cut corners and over-log. The man had been doing just that in November when his site was compromised by a wildfire, erasing the evidence.

He’d escaped recrimination that time, but Jackson had been on his ass at three more sites since then. Today’s inspection was at a new site, coincidentally just north of the ski resort. Not that he would run into any of the Masters simply by driving into the mountains around their property, but the proximity alone would make his cock stiff from knowing she was undoubtedly nearby.

Until Saturday, he’d only ever seen Sharon in ski clothes, albeit sexy fucking ski clothes, but it was almost May now. She wouldn’t be in ski clothes soon. In the summers she led hikers through the mountain paths. If he ever saw that woman in a tank top and shorts…

Jackson groaned as he slammed the door shut on his SUV and started the engine.





Chapter Two


Sharon Masters wiped the sweat off her brow and reached down to grab a bottle of water out of her backpack. She’d been working her ass off all morning and half the afternoon to get the trail leading from her family’s resort cleared so they could open for hikers the following week.

She took a long drink of the cool water and leaned on the hoe she gripped with her gloved right hand. It was unseasonably warm, almost seventy degrees. Unheard of for late April in northwestern Montana. The six men working with her looked about as exhausted as she felt.

Her oldest brother, Griffen, righted himself about ten yards away and glanced up the trail. He stiffened and froze in his spot at the same moment the small hairs on the back of her neck rose. Something was off.

She planted both feet and turned her head in every direction, having no idea what she was looking for. The air was suddenly too still. Nothing moved. Even the birds stopped chirping.

And then the ground shook.

Sharon lurched forward when the earthquake hit, knowing in an instant what was occurring. She’d been through earthquakes in the area a few years ago, and she would never forget the sensation of having the ground seemingly yanked out from under her feet.

Griffen shouted something, but she couldn’t hear him over the rumble of the earth.

She lost her balance as she tried to step forward with one foot to keep from falling, but she wasn’t quick enough. Instead, she found herself stumbling, unable to get a grip on anything. From her position in the middle of the trail, she didn’t even have a branch or tree trunk to grab onto.

She watched the hoe flip up when she fell forward as if it happened in slow motion. And the next thing she knew, the blade sliced through her pants and gouged her in the calf halfway between her knee and her ankle.

“Shit.” She gasped for oxygen as she put out her hands to brace her fall and landed on her elbows instead of her palms when the earth rose up to meet her.