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Ice

Page 25

by Stephanie Rowe


  Something in Cort’s chest tightened, something he didn’t like. Something that made him miss his family. A feeling he hadn’t had in a long time.

  He’d been just fine being alone.

  Hadn’t been lonely for even a day.

  Until now.

  He tensed his jaw as he banked for the landing, no longer certain it was the right thing to do. To come here. To bring Kaylie.

  Too late.

  Luke and Charity were already spreading the word, and Luke would be there by midnight, ready to set up shop in the trees with a shotgun. The snares had been set, and it was too late to back out.

  Kaylie leaned forward, peering out the windshield. “Is that it?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” Cort landed smoothly, taxiing the little Cessna around so she was banked at a forty-five-degree angle down the slope, ready for a quick take off. The sun was bright for the first time in days, the temperature almost balmy.

  Kaylie opened her door and stepped out, putting on the same high-fashion sunglasses she’d been wearing that first day Cort had met her. He paused to watch her as she walked across the damp grass. She shaded her eyes to look across the valley below them, then peered up at the sheer cliffs that stretched above them on the other three sides.

  Kaylie was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, which fit her body as if they were meant for her, and a light blue jacket. Her hair was soft and blowing in the light wind. It was less perfect than when she’d first set foot on the tarmac in Alaska, but it was a hell of a lot more tempting.

  She still looked as beautiful as she had the first time he’d seen her, just as sensual and female. But the difference was that now, she also looked vibrant and alive.

  She looked human. Fragile and strong, a woman letting life touch her and enrich her. No longer a woman with a shield around her, keeping out the world.

  Now Kaylie looked like she fit right into his life, despite the diamonds and the expensive clothes. The diamonds and the clothes…He didn’t have a problem with them anymore. They were part of who she was, and he liked the whole package. And that thought made some of the loneliness in his chest ease. It felt right having her here, sharing in what had been his family’s retreat.

  But he’d been wrong about Valerie.

  Hellaciously wrong.

  Scowling, Cort grabbed their bags out of the back of the plane and climbed out, pausing to grab two guns and a knife. Set the throttle lock so no one would be flying it except him, then headed toward the cabin, resisting the urge to walk up to Kaylie and sink his face into that lush hair.

  She didn’t turn as he passed her, but he caught a whiff of her scent, making blood rush to his groin.

  The door was still bolted shut with a log across the door, and it took both hands and some serious leverage to get it to move. But it finally slid free with a creaking groan, and he opened the door.

  He froze at what he saw inside.

  Dishes set out to dry on the sink.

  A pile of clothes on the couch, ready to be folded.

  A paperback book of his mom’s, facedown on the coffee table to hold the place.

  His dad’s pipe, sitting out, ready to be smoked.

  A small knife and a half-whittled piece of wood sitting on the coffee table next to his mom’s book.

  There was a faint scent of mold, but the dust wasn’t as thick as it should have been after so many years. The place actually looked in good repair. Then Cort saw a faded green ball cap on the back of the chair. Jackson’s hat. Cort realized his friend had been checking up on the cabin all this time, keeping it ready for the day Cort was finally ready to come back.

  Shit.

  He dropped the bags and walked over to the table. Picked up the knife and brushed the dust off it. Folded it over in his hands, recalling the feel of it. A dark green pearlized handle. Blade still sharp. It was small, so much smaller than he remembered. Too little for his hands now, but for a fourteen-year-old, it had been the best present he’d ever gotten.

  He picked up the partially carved piece of wood, grinned when he saw it was a woman, naked as a jaybird.

  What parents let their fourteen-year-old sit around whittling naked women out of pieces of wood? He’d have thought he’d been whittling planes back then, not women.

  A shadow fell across the room.

  Turning, he found Kaylie in the doorway, backlit by the sun. Like a damn angel.

  “Is it weird to be back here?”

  He shrugged, tossed the knife and the woman back on the table. “It’s fine.”

  Kaylie stepped inside, and he saw her notice the clothes, the pipe, the book. “It’s as if they’re about to come back.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He picked up the bags again and carried them over to the bed. A one-room cabin—he’d been the one who slept on the couch. Or out on the porch, when his parents had wanted privacy.

  He grinned, remembering it had taken him a few years before he’d figured out what they wanted the privacy for.

  Kaylie slowly walked inside, trailing her fingers over the paperback. Her movement was slow, and he felt a weight emanating from her.

  He folded his arms over his chest, watching her as she moved around. Waiting for her to talk.

  Eventually, she turned to face him. “You were fourteen when they died?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who took care of you?”

  He shrugged. “I took care of myself. No big deal.”

  “No big deal,” she repeated softly. She eased herself to the couch, hugged her knees up to her chest. “We’re the same, now.”

  He raised his brows. “How so?”

  “Both our parents are dead.” She rested her chin on her knees. “Did you feel alone afterward? Scared? What did you do?”

  He ground his jaw for a minute, not wanting to go there.

  He never went there.

  “I don’t know who I am,” she whispered. “I spent my life fighting my family, and now they’re gone. I feel like…I feel like I did it wrong. That I missed out. That I made the wrong choice.” She was staring out the door, at the afternoon sun. “But I don’t know what I could have done differently. And now Mason is all that’s left. And he might die anyway. And if he doesn’t, what then? Do I start climbing again so I can be close to him?” She turned her gaze to him. “Is that why you fly? To be near your family?”

  Cort dropped the bags on the bed and walked over, took a seat on the edge of the coffee table, facing her. He leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs. “You really want to know why I fly?”

  She nodded, still hugging herself.

  “I fly because it’s the only time I feel alive.”

  She cocked her head, studying him, and for a moment, he felt as if she was seeing inside him in a way he didn’t even see himself. “The only time? Really? There’s nothing else?”

  He ground his jaw against the word struggling to emerge. You.

  She looked so sad. “I wanted my parents to feel alive with me, but they never did. It was only the mountain. I simply wasn’t enough for them.”

  “I’m sorry about your parents, Kaylie. I really am.” And he was. He knew the loss of having them ripped out from under you with no warning. No time to say good-bye.

  Knowing they suffered.

  Kaylie hadn’t been witness to it the way he had, but seeing the aftermath…he suspected it didn’t make a difference. She knew.

  “But you need to understand that just because they climbed and couldn’t share that with you, that didn’t mean they didn’t care or that you weren’t enough.” He set his hands on her knees, not quite ready to speak the rest of his thoughts—that he was beginning to think it wouldn’t matter if Kaylie never flew with him. Simply having her be a part of his life, to share moments like this…She would be more than enough just being herself.

  As Valerie had been, until Cort had learned the truth about her.

  But Kaylie wasn’t like Valerie. Kaylie might still be hiding from her true self, but beh
ind her walls, she was courageous and alive and passionate. Nothing like Valerie, and more than enough to make him happy.

  Kaylie managed a smile. “It’s weird because I’m sad, but at the same time, I haven’t seen them in a decade. So how can I miss them? But I do. So much. And what he did to my mom…” Her voice broke, and he slid his hands up the outside of her thighs, framing her hips.

  She took a breath, her gaze flickering toward him, then slithered away. “This is awful to say, but on some level, I feel relieved that I don’t have to deal with the conflict anymore. Relieved that I no longer have to worry that they’re going to die on me. They died.” She looked at him, tears filling her eyes. “They’re dead. After all this time, they finally died.”

  He knew the moment the realization finally hit her, and he slid onto the couch next to her, pulling her onto his lap as the grief exploded. She sobbed against his chest, her body shaking, clinging to him as if he were the only solid thing left in her world.

  And he knew he was.

  She’d been robbed of everything. Of her family, of the safe little world she had built around herself, of her own sense of independence. She had been forced back into the environment that had stolen her childhood, her family, and her right to believe the world was a good place, a safe place, a place where she could be who she wanted to be.

  He held her close, rocking her and whispering soothing words to her as she cried.

  And he realized something.

  Realized he was exactly like her parents, just as she’d claimed. Would he really allow her to be herself? Or would he keep trying to force her to become the vibrant woman he knew she was hiding? Thinking he knew better than she did about who she was and how she should live her life. Trying to force her outside her shell.

  But holding her in his arms, watching her crumble…He brushed his lips over her hair, finally understanding the truth. That she was fragile. Human. Breakable.

  She knew that about herself, and no one in her life understood it.

  He couldn’t truly comprehend it, because his entire way of life depended on his belief that he was unstoppable. By trying to make Kaylie stronger, he was weakening her.

  Yeah, she had courage and strength, and Cort admired the hell out of her, but her courage was quiet, not flashy or aggressive. A foundation, not a high wire flapping around in the wind.

  Kaylie didn’t need Cort. She needed someone who would keep her safe and give her the world she wanted. Not someone who would put her through this agony again.

  Kaylie needed security. And he couldn’t give that to her.

  He closed his eyes and pressed his face to her hair, finally understanding the truth.

  He couldn’t keep her.

  It felt like forever before the tears finally stopped, leaving Kaylie drained and exhausted.

  Her head hurt.

  Her muscles ached.

  Cort brushed his lips over her hair, his hand rubbing circles on her back. She was still on his lap with his arms wrapped around her. She could feel his erection underneath her, but he hadn’t made a move on her.

  He’d simply held her.

  Comforted her.

  The man who never slowed down had parked himself on the couch and hadn’t moved for as long as she’d needed him. Despite the preparations that needed to be done for Bill’s arrival. Despite his own issues with being back in the cabin.

  Maybe Charity was right. Maybe his flying didn’t matter. Maybe simply the man he was would be enough. She thought of the black lingerie Charity had given her, and suddenly she knew she wanted this moment with Cort.

  Whatever happened in the future, this man, this amazing man…She wanted this moment with him, the bush pilot, the adrenaline junkie, the tender lover who held her until her tears were no more.

  She wanted him. The ache in her heart began to fade, replaced with a growing awareness of the hardness of his body, the utterly male scent, the roughness of his whiskers as he rubbed his chin in her hair.

  She hooked her index finger over one of the buttons on his shirt. “How long do we have until Bill arrives?”

  “Luke and Charity are spreading the word starting at eight o’clock tonight at the bar. If he heard right away, it would take him a couple hours to organize, even if he was ready to go. So we have at least until ten tonight, probably later.”

  She looked at her watch. It was only five. “How much do you need to do outside?”

  “Not much. It’ll take me a couple hours at most.” He was still rubbing her back, his hand slipping beneath her shirt periodically to brush over her bare skin.

  She closed her eyes, absorbing his warmth, his energy, his solid strength. Her mom and dad had always been on edge, never sitting still, getting testy if they spent too long indoors.

  But Cort…She could feel a peacefulness in him.

  A core strength.

  A solidity. Almost as if he brought a sense of stability with him, wherever he went.

  You love him yet?

  Charity’s question popped into her mind, and Kaylie knew the answer in her heart, without even asking herself.

  Yes.

  For all that it might cost her, she did.

  And she loved him for what he was. For his embrace of life, for his passion, for the way he made her feel beautiful and sexy and courageous. For the way he believed in her courage. Her parents had belittled her fears, scoffed at her choices. Cort praised her courage, believed she had strength. A difference. A core difference.

  Did that mean Kaylie could stay? That she could live with watching him get into that plane every day, knowing he was going to push the edge? That she could handle being in love with a man who loved flying more than he loved her?

  No.

  But she could take a piece of him with her. To hold in her heart forever.

  Slowly, she lifted her head and raised her face to his. Found him studying her, his eyes dark and hooded. Unreadable. Her courage faltered for a split second, but she knew what she wanted.

  She didn’t want him in the back of a plane or in the throes of grief. She wanted him tender and loving, in the present. For tonight. “Kiss me,” she whispered. “Make love to me.”

  His eyes became darker, and his thumb brushed over her lower lip.

  Anticipation swirled through her when he bent toward her, his hand cupping her chin.

  He stopped when his mouth was a mere breath from hers, then swore and pulled back. “I can’t.”

  Kaylie blinked. “What?”

  Gently, he lifted her off him, settling her on the couch. “I need to go set up outside. Stay inside the cabin and bolt the door when I leave. There should be no surprises, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “But—”

  He paused, his fingers trailing through her hair, a look of such craving on his face that she knew he wouldn’t be able to walk away. Not yet.

  But he dropped his hand, grabbed a gun, and walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Cort strode through the woods, his feet making too much noise, but he didn’t care.

  All he could think about was Kaylie back at the cabin.

  Make love to me.

  Shit.

  He ran his hand through his hair, too agitated to focus.

  He wasn’t the kind of guy to let go of something he wanted. He took what he needed and didn’t look back. Since when did he become some moral Boy Scout, willing to walk away from what he wanted?

  Since he’d met Kaylie.

  Since he’d seen into her heart and realized she was so much more than he ever would be and that he would destroy her if he kept her.

  But if he made love to her again, he would never let her go.

  So he had to let her go now. This minute.

  Lucky for him, he had a distraction: there was a murderer on the way, and Cort had to be ready to cap his ass.

  He reached the only other clearing large enough for a plane and surveyed it. No one had
landed here. The grass was untouched; branches littered the ground.

  If Bill tried to land here, Cort would hear him long before he landed. Bill would know that. So there had to be another way he was going to come in.

  But Cort and Luke had discussed it, and there were no other options. Flying was the only way in. Flying, or by car to the nearest access point, and then a long hike.

  Cort paced the clearing, trying to think like Bill.

  Something felt off about their plan.

  Bill was a part of this state’s terrain the way Cort was part of the sky. He would guess the plan. He would come up with an alternate approach.

  Cort crouched in the middle of the clearing, gun across his lap, and found himself closing his eyes.

  Listening to the earth.

  To the sounds of nature.

  To the wind teasing the trees.

  Opening himself to his gut instincts, the ones his dad had taught him to rely on.

  It had been so long since he’d slowed down like this. Hadn’t thought of it in years. But sitting on that couch with Kaylie…he’d been at peace. He’d felt his spirit slow, embracing the moment. It hadn’t taken sex to ground him this time.

  Holding her had been enough, and he tapped into that sensation again, opening his mind to nature and the woods, to the spirit of the earth that he’d grown up with—and forgotten.

  He closed his eyes and could almost hear his dad’s voice guiding him, forcing him to reach within himself and find the spirit that would lead him to safety.

  Cort became aware of the strength of the earth.

  Of the weight of the air, light, with a hint of rain approaching. Heavy rain, hours away.

  He concentrated on the feel of the wind on his skin, the whispers as it tickled the trees, heard the story of a strong wind on its way. His mind quieted, and he realized he hadn’t felt like this in years. Completely and utterly at peace. In the moment.

 

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