Page 5 of Wild Return (Wild Heart Mountain: Wild Rider’s MC #15)

SYDNEY

S aturday afternoons are my favorite time at the brewery. In the quiet season, when we’re not brewing seven days a week, I’m usually the only one here.

I let myself in and go to disarm the alarm but stop when I realize it’s already disabled. Someone else is here.

With Freya and Nate all loved up at home, I was hoping to get some quiet time at the brewery and get ahead on work for next week.

We postponed yesterday’s shipment because of the high winds on the mountain. It wasn’t safe conditions for a truck to drive on these mountain roads. It means juggling the schedule and rebooking with our customers, and I’d rather get that done today so I can start fresh next week.

Nate didn’t want me to go out in the storm, but my SUV is an all-wheel drive and it can handle a bit of wind and rain. Besides, we’re only under a severe thunderstorm watch.

Rain beats down on the skylights and rattles the windows. The wildness of the storm soothes my turbulent mind, reminding me there are forces out there greater than myself.

I’m focused on a spreadsheet showing inventory and those missing two kegs, so I don’t hear Viking enter the office until he’s right by my desk.

“What are you doing here?”

I jump at the sound of a human voice and spin around to find Viking. His arms are folded over his chest, and he’s got a frown on his face.

“You scared me.”

“You shouldn’t be out in this weather.”

He sounds just like my brother. The only difference is that Viking has no right to look out for me.

“I’m fine. The worst of it is supposed to hit overnight.”

Viking glances out the window where the thunderous clouds make it seem more like night than late afternoon. I was so engrossed in my inventory that I didn’t notice how dark it had gotten.

“Go home, Sydney, before it gets too dangerous to drive.”

I clench my teeth in irritation. Viking has no right to tell me what to do. He gave up the right to protect me four years ago when he chose the military over me.

“I’m just fine here.”

He shakes his head. “This storm is going to be bad. You need to leave while you can.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Like you left.”

Viking huffs in irritation. “This is no time to be stubborn, Syd. You need to leave.”

He’s right, but damned if I’m going to let him know that. I’ve got good tires, and I don’t live far away. I just need another hour to figure this out.

“I don’t leave.”

He shakes his head. “Please don’t be stubborn about this. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

“I’ve learned to look after myself. And I’ll keep myself safe. Thank you.”

I’m being childish, but I can’t help it. I don’t want him to think he can tell me what to do.

Viking saunters out of the room, and I smile.

A gust of wind rattles the skylights and shatters my moment of victory.

He’s right. I should get home, but I’m going to stay here as long as I can just to piss him off. It’s going to take more than a few cups of coffee to get back into my good books.

Twenty minutes later, Viking’s back. I feel his presence before I hear him.

“They’ve closed the roads at the top of the ridge.” Viking’s tone is low but firm.

I keep my focus on the spreadsheet in front of me. It’s a twenty-minute drive home, and the worst roads are further up the mountain.

“I’ll make it through the worst of it.”

He sets a soggy cardboard box on my desk, and from inside the box he extracts two silver mugs and a brown paper bag.

“At least have something to eat while you’re here.”

He puts one of the mugs on my desk. Steam leaks from the vent in the top of the mug, and the aroma of milky coffee wafts out with it. My gut clenches at his thoughtfulness. After four years, he remembers exactly how I like my coffee.

“Thank you.”

“I caught Davis as he was locking up. They’ve closed the restaurant for the afternoon, and he’s heading home.”

He looks at me pointedly. “Maggie was already gone, but I made us some sandwiches and snagged a couple of cookies from the kitchen.”

He pulls a chocolate chip cookie out of the bag and hands it to me wrapped in a napkin. Viking makes it hard to stay cross with him.

As I reach for the cookie, there’s a boom of thunder straight overhead. My body jolts, and my hand bumps up against his. Viking wraps his fingers around my wrist, and my pulse thumps against his fingers.

“I got you, Syd,” he whispers.

My gaze meets his, and memories flood in from a time before. A time when I believed we’d have each other forever.

I wrench my hand away, and it’s trembling. I tell myself it’s from the thunder and not from his touch.

“I’m fine.”

Viking steps back, putting distance between us. The rain on the roof turns more violent, and the building shakes with a gust of wind.

“What are you doing here anyway?” I ask.

“I wanted to make sure the place was secure for the storm.”

He looks away, and there’s something he’s not telling me.

“Didn’t you do that yesterday?”

He nods and I raise my eyebrows, waiting for him to go on. “What is it?”

He sighs. “The two lost kegs both went missing on a weekend.”

“You think someone’s breaking in here on a Saturday?”

“Maybe. I found some weak points in the cellars.” He averts his gaze and takes a bite of his sandwich.

“You’re doing a stakeout?”

He shrugs. “I was going to monitor the cameras from home. It’s unlikely anyone would be out in this storm. But now that you’re here, I’m not leaving until you do.”

“Oh.” I chew my sandwich. It’s not just me who will have a treacherous drive home but Viking too. And he’s on a motorbike.

“Can’t you work from home with your laptop?” he asks.

He looks so desperate I almost agree to leave.

But I want to prove the point that I’m my own woman and I look after myself, and I don’t need a man to take care of me.

I’ll give him a lift home when I leave so he doesn’t have to go on his bike.

But I’m not going to tell him that yet. I’ll do a final check downstairs, then I’ll get out of here.

I push my chair back. “I need to go down to the cellars and count out the kegs from the latest brew.”

My words are cut off by the howl of the wind, and something thumps against the roof. We both glance up as the fluorescent lights flicker then die.

The office is plunged into darkness as there’s another thump from outside.

“What was that?”

My heart races, and instinctively I reach for Viking. My hand brushes his, but I drop it. I’ve gotten by without him for four years. I won’t reach for him now.

“Sounded like a tree. Must have taken out the power lines.”

A soft glow illuminates his features, and then he flicks on his phone light. “I’ve got a better flashlight in my office.”

I move toward the door with my hands out, bumping into desks as I go.

There’s another thump from outside, and I startle.

My hip crashes against the side of a desk, and I stumble.

Viking lunges forward to steady me, and our bodies collide chest to chest as his phone drops to the floor, plunging us into darkness.

I gasp as his arms wrap around me, cocooning me in a warm embrace that makes the storm feel far away. The scent of roasted malt, coffee, and the leather of his jacket cocoons me.

Heat radiates from his body, and the thumping of my heart is as loud as the rain hammering on the roof.

His thumb brushes my cheek, and his warm breath caresses my skin.

“Tell me to let you go,” he whispers.

My mouth moves, but I can’t form the words.

Our lips meet. And it’s achingly slow, then hungry as years of longing explode to the surface. Lighting flashes above, illuminating our silhouettes against the wall followed by thunder rumbling overhead, which I feel all the way through my body.

Fluorescent lights crackle on, flooding the office with light. My eyes fly open, and I jerk backwards out of Viking’s arms. My body is on fire from his touch and I stare up at the lights, trying to compose myself.

“The generator’s kicked in.”

Viking drops his hands to his sides, and his fingers clench as if he’s lost something vital.

He steps forward. “Sydney, tell me what I have to do to make this right.”

There’s a pleading expression in his eyes, and it reminds me of that night when I left voicemails on his phone pleading for him to stay. A sharp pain of hurt fires in my chest, and I fold my arms over it.

“Nothing will make this right, Viking. You’ll leave again. Just like last time.”

He takes another step toward me, and I take a step back. If he gets too close, I might cave again. I might give in to what my body wants instead of what my head tells me I must do.

“I walked away once because I thought I was doing the right thing. I was wrong. I’m not leaving again.”

His jaw works like he wants to say something more, but I don’t give him the chance.

“Your intentions don’t matter. Your actions do.”

I swipe my purse from where I left it by my desk. “Storm or no storm, I’m driving home, because controlling how I leave is one thing I learned from you.”

I stride toward the door, not daring to look him in the eyes. I make it out of the office when the lights flicker, and for a second time we’re plunged into darkness.

I stay completely still. I’m not going to risk colliding with Viking again. If he kissed me a second time, I’m not sure I’d have the strength to walk away. But walk away is the only thing I can do to protect my heart.

I dig into my purse and find my phone at the same time that Viking gets his.

“The generator must have cut out.”

That’s not good news. “If the fermenting process is halted for too long, we’ll lose the entire batch.”

“I’ll grab my flashlight and take a look.”

I use the light from my phone to make sure I’m well clear of Viking as he moves past me to get to his office. Despite all my bravado, I won’t leave him here on his own.

While he’s in the office, my phone buzzes with a persistent alarm.

I frown at the emergency alert, and my heart sinks as I scan it.

Viking comes out of his office holding his phone up. “Did you get the alert?”

“Yes,” I bite out.

Wild Heart Mountain is now under a severe thunderstorm warning. They’ve closed all the mountain roads and are issuing a shelter-in-place for at least the next six hours.

In the faint light from his phone, there’s a ghost of a smile. “Looks like we’re stuck here together, cupcake.”