Ensnared (Brutes of Bristlebrook, #1)(60)

Of course, I may have also tried to bail on training this morning. I had grand plans of stealing Eden away for a few hours, taking her for a stroll, picking wildflowers sparkling with morning dew, kissing her frosty fingers warm, and settling in on a thick picnic rug with a thermos of piping hot tea to watch the sun rise . . . except that when I went looking for her, she and Lucky were nowhere to be found.

But Dom was, and he dragged me outside like a wayward puppy right alongside Jasper, once again blowing to hell any chance I had of spending time alone with Eden.

Damn it, where did Lucky and Eden go? I know they were in the house at some point yesterday—it was impossible for any of us to miss the Twister extravaganza. Lucky, little asshole that he is, set it up in the music room, and that damn room is designed for sound to travel. Their giggles, squeals, and moans floated through every single room of the lodge.

And I can’t even be mad about it.

Those sounds are just about the most delightful thing I’ve heard in years, and I’m stupid happy that Eden had a good day, even if it wasn’t with me.

Wouldn’t have stopped me from hauling her out of Lucky’s arms the second I tracked her down, though.

Under me, Jasper makes a sour sound in the back of his throat, then taps out. I don’t let him up this time. His face is red and sweaty—it always is when we spar—but there are rough, tired rings around his eyes that I don’t like, and he’s been feral as a pissed-off badger all morning.

I frown down at him. “Where’s your head today? That’s the fourth time I’ve pinned you.”

“This is a waste of my time.” His eyes flash dangerously. “I should be on surveillance. Do you know how difficult it will be to make up two hours of missed footage on thirty-seven cameras?”

I grimace. “How close are they now?”

“They stopped last night and set up camp,” he says in a clipped voice. “Last I saw, they hadn’t yet moved.”

Easing my grip, I soothe, “So it’s not an immediate concern. We can help you with the cameras later.” I hesitate, then add in an undertone, “But are you sure that’s what this is about?”

His face takes on such an unholy light that I back up fast and watch him warily as he shoves to his feet. With a chilling curl of his lip, he yanks down his rumpled, grass-stained shirt.

Beside us, Dom breaks Lucky’s hold around his neck, then throws him flying over his shoulder and down hard into the dirt.

Lucky wheezes.

Jasper fires a vicious glare at Dom. “Would you be careful? I was under the impression that we’re here to train, not to snap one another’s necks.”

He whips his towel off a low-hanging branch and swipes at his flushed forehead.

Dom catches me looking, then rolls his eyes skyward, and I cough to hide a laugh.

“Pulling punches in training is a fast way to get people killed in action. We don’t do that here. You’d know that by now if you didn’t keep skipping out on us.” Rubbing his neck where Lucky half-strangled him, Dom adds wryly, “And my neck is just fine, thanks for the concern.”

Jasper gives him a withering look.

Lucky groans good-naturedly as he sits up. “You know, the rear naked choke always ends differently in my head.”

Ignoring that, Dom nods at him. “It was good. You’re coming in faster. Much better than last week.”

Lucky shrugs one shoulder, but there’s a pleased glow to his smile as he grabs his bottle for a drink. Guy would roll over and show his belly for a compliment, I swear.

Dom reaches out a hand to help Lucky up, but instead of taking it, Lucky launches forward into a somersault, somehow ending up on his feet. He bounces on his toes with the same buoyant energy he’s had all morning, as if he’s burning extra bright today to make up for Jasper’s gloom.

“Don’t get too cocky.” Dom frowns. “Your offense is strong, but you leave yourself too exposed. If you don’t fix up your evasive maneuvers, you’re going to catch bullets sooner or later.”

Lucky re-ties his loosening hair, then waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t you know? Tragic hero is my aesthetic.” His dimple flashes. “Just like bossy jerk is yours, grumpy Hulk is Jayk’s, self-righteous sweetheart is Beau’s, and sexy nerd is Eden’s.”

I choke on my water. “I am not self-righteous!” I scoff. “I’m a doctor. I help people!”

Lucky inclines his head at Dom. “See?”

“Idiot.” I twist up my towel and whip it so it cracks against his ass. He yelps, cackling as he spins to face me, and Dom snorts.

“What does that make mine, then?”

Silky. Indolent. The words slice through the levity in a single, neat cut. Despite his still-pink cheeks, Jasper’s glittering eyes warn of poisoned waters and blackened, roiling skies.

Lucky straightens, and I don’t know why it strikes me now, but I realize for the first time how much older he is than when I first met him. There’s a seriousness and a hardness in him that seems suddenly obvious now he’s stopped smiling.

He looks Jasper over. “That makes you the one getting saved, I guess.” He shrugs and picks up his bottle again. “Especially if you’re letting yourself get pinned four times in one morning.”

Oh, shit.

I freeze, glancing between the two of them. Watching Jasper’s face is like watching an avalanche descend, wintry and ruinous. Lucky casually sips from his water bottle.