And the fact that they could firebomb a camp just showed how much the world had changed in the last week—because seven days earlier, he and the entire crew of former Jar Heads had been running a successful and exclusive deer hunting operation in rural Michigan. Six days ago, the entire world had gone dark in what they were assuming was a complete power grid failure. Due to Graham’s foresight and their general mistrust of the government after seeing way the fuck too much over the last decade of their military careers, Castle Creek Whitetail Ranch was also probably the most intense doomsday prepper compound in the entire state. They’d left nothing to chance. From impeccable defenses to stores of food, weapons, supplies, alternative sources of power and beyond—they had everything needed to carry on in the face of a complete collapse of modern society. If the TV show Doomsday Preppers had ever heard of them, they would’ve put the rest of those wannabes to shame.
Given that operational security was the first step of successful prepping, no one knew what they were hiding in the bunkers beneath these buildings. The walled compound was surrounded by hundreds of fenced acres and some of the finest whitetail that could be hunted in the Midwest. If the grid had gone down even a few days later, they would’ve had a camp full of early season hunters, but as it stood, the only residents of Castle Creek Whitetail Ranch were ten former Force Recon Marines, one wife, one five year old daughter, and now Rowan and Lia. They all thanked God that Jonah, the only married member of their crew, had had the brilliant luck of falling in love with, and marrying, a former Mennonite. Part of the reason they were set up to run so efficiently without a steady supply of electricity was Allison’s unique upbringing. So if their solar, wind, or microhydro power systems ever died, they’d still be fine, albeit a little less comfortable. As it stood, they were ready to ride out the apocalypse in style.
“How’s she doing?” Travis asked.
Cam stared at his friend for a few moments before answering, “Only time will tell.”
After eight months, Cam hadn’t made his move.
“Thanks for walking me back,” she said, standing at the door of the cabin she shared with Erica Callahan. Erica was Rowan’s spitfire of a sister who’d come to live at the ranch shortly after Ro.
“You don’t have to thank me every night, Lia,” Cam replied.
“You don’t have to walk me every night either, but you do.”
He studied her face, and she knew what he was thinking: I do have to, because you still jump if most any man in this place catches you off guard in the dark.
Even after all these months, she still dropped her eyes when confronted with the direct gaze of the giant, alpha males inhabiting the compound. But, to her credit, she’d come a long way in that time. She might jump, but at least she was no longer looking for potential weapons and cataloging all available exits every time she entered a building.
That was something, at least.
And besides, not all of the men set her on edge in a negative way. No, there were two who set her on edge in the most frustrating, but delicious way possible.
And there was the problem.
She shouldn’t want them both.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Rowan’s voice carrying across the camp.
“You don’t need to carry me everywhere, Conan.”
Lia and Cam both looked toward the mess hall that sat about fifty yards away—their previous destination—and the glow of the solar light that revealed Graham holding a very pregnant Rowan in his arms. One problem with living in a compound was that privacy was the scarcest of resources.
The door to the big, low building opened again, and Zach stepped outside. Lia knew she should look away, but she couldn’t.
“You know arguing isn’t going to help at all, don’t you?” he asked her.
“I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”
“Hush, woman. This baby is coming any day now. Don’t expect me to let you do a damn thing,” Graham replied.
The reason she couldn’t look away? That. And that was also why Lia couldn’t get the idea of two men out of her mind. Because she saw it every day.
Their protectiveness. Their care. Graham and Zach’s absolute devotion to Rowan.
Lia wanted that.
She just wasn’t gutsy enough like Ro to go after it.
For months she’d waited for Cam to make a move, but he continued to handle her with kid gloves, as if every time he touched her he was waiting for her to flinch like she had the first time he’d come toward her.
What did she have to do to show him she was ready?
If she couldn’t even figure that out, how the heck was she going to figure out how to ask for both of them?
“You sure you don’t want to climb one of the watch stations, drink, and watch for shooting stars instead of heading to bed?” Travis asked.
The invitation came out of the dark from behind her … and from the man responsible for the other half of her confusion. He’d been absent at dinner because he was on watch duty. Lia only knew this because she had both Cam and Travis’s watch schedules committed to memory. She’d also been expecting him to knock on her door—like he did most nights—to make sure she was all settled in and to find some way to make her laugh.
Cam’s head swung around, and his hand settled on Lia’s lower back. The heat from his palm burned through her shirt, and she wondered if the gesture was instinctive … or possessive.
A girl could only hope.
“No way in hell is she climbing a damn tree, drinking, and then falling out,” Cam shot back.
Travis lifted his chin, and his eyes left trails of shivers down her body as he surveyed her.
“I’d never let her fall. You know that, don’t you, babe?”