Wild Men of Alaska 02 - Moosed-Up

merits of different bug spray brands to her husband who looked like he was ready to bug out.
    “Bet you a cord of wood that’s a citified garment,” Bat-winged brow said.
    “How in the hell do you know that?” Snowy-beard asked.
    “No way is that boulder holder going to keep the titties warm come winter. I guarantee you that.”
    “Like you’ve seen any titties in the last two decades,” Snowy beard said, shovelin g mashed potatoes in his mouth.
    “Now don’t be spouting off about things you no nothing about,” Bat-winged brow said. “Granted it’s been a few seasons between the lovelies, but by the looks of the bra BW is sporting, I’d lay ten to one odds that bra is our new nurse practitioner’s.”
    Eva jerked up from the menu and looked out the window at what the men were talking about.
    There was BW grazing on wildflowers alongside the road with her lavender bra hanging off his antlers.
    Holy shit .
    How had that moose gotten a hold of her bra? She sank into her chair and raised the menu to cover her face. Her heart thrashed like a hummingbird’s as she tried to think it through.
    Lynx had taken the bra off her last night along with her top while they were still outside her door. Come to think of it, she didn’t know where her top was either. She hadn’t given her clothes a thought, not when all she could think of was Lynx. Embarrassment flamed up her body in waves.
    “No way am I taking that bet,” Snowy-beard said. “But I’ll think I’ll make an appointment with the little gal. How do you think BW came about such a lovely garment?”
    “I wouldn’t put it past Lynx to have found a way around her mad for standing her up the other night. That boy never did stay in trouble for long.”
    “Yep, he sure does have a way with the ladies.”
    Eva sank farther behind her menu. A way with the ladies? How many ladies? Maybe he wasn’t as invested in their relationship as she realized she was.
    Had she jumped from one doomed relationship to another? You couldn’t call what she’d done a pattern because she hadn’t fallen for another gay man. Lynx was as straight as a birch tree. But could he be just entertaining himself with her? And where the hell was he anyway?
    “Have you decided what to order?” Bree asked, trying her hardest to keep a straight face. She’d heard those old Sourdoughs too. Damn it.
    Eva slapped the menu down on the table. It wasn’t in her to hide like some simpering female. “I want the moose steak. Rare.”

Chapter Fifteen

    Crap, there were three of them.
    How was he going to take down three poachers? Lynx settled back on his haunches, hiding deep within the diamond willow and watched. He needed to catch them unawares, and so far they’d been pretty damn aware.
    He should have known it was Chad Diamond bringing in hunters on Refuge land. Damn idiot, he knew better than to risk poaching. They’d put him away for good this time. The other two men Lynx didn’t recognize. Knowing Chad, he was hiring out as a guide and charging a king’s ransom.
    One man was big, well over six feet, probably as tall as Lynx was, somewhere in his forties, but that beer belly would slow him down. The other worried Lynx a little more. About ten years younger than Beer Belly, he had a military stance and comfortable manner in which he held his rifle as though it were an extension of his limbs. He wore camo cargo pants with a big knife strapped to his belt, along with a handgun. Lynx figured he probably had a smaller one strapped to his ankle. Yeah, he’d be the one to worry about. Chad would most likely run for the hills.
    Lynx had found their truck where his informant had said it was and parked right next to it. Not leaving anything to chance, he’d disabled the late 80’s pick-up by taking out the distributor cap and hiding it in the woods. He snapped pictures of the butchered moose head already lying in the bed of the truck, sickened over the needless waste for a fucking trophy to hang on some idiot’s wall. He’d tracked them into the woods from there. Now he sat, ignoring the protesting of his muscles as he blended into the foliage around him.
    The evidence indicated a snatch and grab. The trio had no camping equipment, and didn’t build a fire to cook their lunch as they rested and ate MREs.
    Lynx slowly slid his cell phone from his pocket. One bar. Pretty soon he wouldn’t have that. He texted his trooper buddy in Fairbanks and sent his GPS coordinates. Chances were