Running Wild: A novel

by K. A. Tucker

  The cabin. But … “I live in that cabin.” I stare at Jim with disbelief.

  “Well, yeah, but how much longer are you gonna do that for?” He shrugs, as if he’s not suggesting evicting me from my home for the past decade. To my father, he says, “Vicki can pay you rent. That way you have two business income streams on the property.”

  Jim’s always looking for ways to save or make money.

  “I live there,” I repeat, the edge of my fork digging into my thumb as I squeeze it.

  “Realistically, it’s the only way Vicki’ll ever be able to afford her own place on the kind of money those two make.”

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Liz announces.

  “Of course, you do.”

  She purses her lips. “Vicki has kids to think about. Remember? That’s why you convinced her to move back in here?”

  She’s still angry about that.

  I brace myself. When Liz is angry, she gets mean.

  “Dad already gave you the clinic. Just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you can claim everything on this property.”

  “Nobody’s claimed anything!” Dad sets his fork and knife on the table, his voice rising a notch. “What is going on under this roof? Can we not just have a normal dinner anymore?” He glares at Jim, who stirred the pot. Again.

  Tyler’s hand slips under the table to give my thigh a gentle rub. “Hey, girls, why don’t you two show me that game you were playing in the living room before dinner.”

  Nicole and Tillie scramble out of their seats and run toward the doorway before their mother can check their plates and hold them back.

  Tyler is up quickly after them, aiming for the high chair. “Why don’t I take this one off your hands, too? She looks finished.”

  “Oh, I don’t know if she’ll go with you …” Mom’s voice fades as Tyler deftly unbuckles the belt keeping Molly in place and hoists her out with two strong hands around her waist, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

  He lifts her little body high in the air above him before tucking her against his side. “Molly and me will be just fine, won’t we?”

  The dimpled smile he treats her to seems to disarm any wariness she might have over the stranger. Her puree-covered hand reaches for his nose to test it with a gurgle of interest, earning his laughter.

  I watch in awe as the two of them disappear down the hall, and a swirl of emotions surges in my chest.

  Tyler would have made a good father to his son.

  He will make a good father.

  “Okay, if I weren’t already pregnant, I think watching that would have knocked me up.” Vicki turns her dazed eyes to me. “He is perfect for you, Marie. He loves dogs and babies, and he’s so hot.”

  My pulse races. I know. But others see it, too. “We’re just friends.” Dare I hope for more?

  From the living room, a sharp whistle cuts through the air, and Yukon and Bentley bolt out of the kitchen.

  “See?” Dad holds up his finger in the air. “Dogs always know.”

  * * *

  “I hope that wasn’t the worst dinner you’ve ever had.” My mom wrings her hands as she walks us to the door. I’ll bet she’s as relieved as I am that it ended without a cataclysmic screaming match, but she’s suitably embarrassed, regardless.

  Tyler’s unexpected and swift removal of the children seemed to disarm the bomb about to detonate, allowing everyone a moment to calm down and reevaluate words that likely would’ve caused lasting damage once they were spoken. Jim and Liz left soon after, citing Jim’s workload and Liz’s condition for their speedy departure. Vicki escaped upstairs to bathe Molly and ready her for bed. Tyler tried to find a spot next to me at the sink, but my mother chased him off, so he ended up parked on the couch where my father regaled him with countless stories about Earl Hatchett and other mushers who became more than just clients.

  When I emerged from the kitchen, Aurora’s chin was resting on Tyler’s knee as his fingers moved in a slow, circular pattern over her forehead. I’ve never seen her get that close to anyone besides my mother.

  “Actually, Marie specifically promised me a horrible dinner, and didn’t deliver on it.”

  “Oh.” My mom laugh-snorts and shakes her head. “Did she mean my cooking or the company?”

  Tyler’s eyes sparkle as he towers over my tiny mother and charms her. “Both were enjoyable, Eleanor. Thank you for the invitation.”

  “You’re welcome!” my father hollers from the depths of the house, where he’s settled into his chair. “See you again, if you’re crazy enough to return.”

  Tyler chuckles and then, with a pensive look, hollers back, “Tell Bill Compton that I’ll give him that interview, but only if Marie’s involved.”

  I stare at him. Is he serious? Where did that come from?

  “She’ll do it! I’ll let him know!”

  “Stop hollering! Vicki’s trying to put Molly to bed,” my mother hisses in the direction of the living room before reaching for my wrist, giving it an affectionate squeeze.

  I smile. “You sure you’re okay with helping out at the clinic this week?” It’s been years since she sat at that desk.

  She waves away my concern. “It’s like riding a bike. Plus, I could use the break from this madhouse.” She peeks around me to confirm that Tyler has already reached the bottom of the steps. “I really like him,” she whispers. “But I don’t think this one is just a friend.”

  Warmth swells in my chest. I can’t tell if it’s wishful thinking or if she sees something I want to see. Either way, I hope she’s right. She knows well enough the heartache that’s woven into my history with Jonah. “Good night, Mom.”

  I rejoin Tyler on the grassy path, my steps buoyed with hope as we walk toward my cabin in the gloomy dusk. The chill in the damp air prompts me to pull the front of my jacket closed.

  Without a word, Tyler slips his arm around my shoulders, fitting me against his side, much like he did that night in the truck when he was offering me comfort.

  Now, he’s offering me warmth.

  Butterflies stir in my stomach as I try to relax against him, but this is all so new. I keep my pace slow, not wanting this part of the night to end.

  Tyler’s chest rises and falls with a sigh. Is he as happy as I am at this moment?

  “So, will you admit now that we should have started with coffee?” I ask into the quiet.

  “And miss that shit show? No way.”

  I shake my head, but I’m laughing. “I don’t know what’s going on lately. If it’s the pregnancy hormones or money worries … We’re not normally that bad.” Clearly, there’s animosity fermenting beneath Liz’s skin, and I seem to be the catalyst. “My sister has always had an issue with my dad handing over the family clinic to me. She thinks I have it too easy.”

  He chuckles. “You did how many years of school again?”

  “She thinks I should have started from scratch after I got out,” I amend. “Built up my own clientele. That, or paid Dad outright for his. She doesn’t see that technically, I am paying for it monthly. It’s kind of a rent-to-own business.” Except I’ll never own the physical structure. “Anyway, I hope that wasn’t too painful. Even though I did warn you.”

  “Honestly, I’m not fazed by that sort of stuff. Every family has its own dynamic, and the best of them are messy sometimes. Mila and her mother argued a lot, about everything. And I’m the youngest of six.”

  I mouth, Wow.

  “Yeah. Three boys and three girls. I was the youngest and an accident. But I remember a lot of fights at our table. Now both my parents are gone, and everyone’s busy with their own lives and their own families. Some of my nieces and nephews are in their late teens and twenties. I remember them being babies.”

  “Is that why you’re so comfortable with Molly?”

  “I guess. It’s been awhile though.” A soft smile tugs at his lips. “She’s adorable.”

  “So were you, when you carried her out.” Adora
ble isn’t the right word. I can’t decide what is. Sexy. Potent. Intoxicating.

  His cheeks flush. “I can’t tell you the last time all of us were in one house. What you have back there?” He nods toward my parents’ place. “Still getting together every week? That’s special. You’ll miss it when it’s gone. Even the nights you want to stab Jim with your fork.”

  My deep laugh drifts through the still night. “You noticed that, huh?”

  “It was pretty hard to miss.” He pulls me tighter against him, his thumb stroking my shoulder. “And I don’t blame you. I’ll bet that guy tells himself he’s the smartest person in any room he walks into.”

  “He’s a pain in the ass, but he usually means well. I think he’s always doing stuff like that because he wants to prove his value to my father.”

  “I can understand that. Your dad seems like the anchor in the family.”

  “Yeah, I guess he is. We’re all a bunch of daddy’s girls, me being the worst of all. Our family would be lost without him.” Will be lost without him one day, I’m afraid. “But it’s my mom who’s the glue. She’s the one who insists on these weekly dinners. She’s always trying to keep the peace. Always bending to accommodate. Too much, sometimes.”

  “Sounds like someone else I know,” he murmurs, his arm around me squeezing.

  I laugh. “You don’t know me well enough to start poking at my shortcomings.”

  “That’s the thing I like about getting older. It takes way less time to figure people out.” Even at our slow pace, we’ve reached my porch too soon.

  “So, this is the place Jim wants to evict you from?”

  “It is.” I hesitate, but a yawning need aches inside me. “Do you want to come inside?”

  He seems to consider that. “It’s better I don’t. Things will get out of hand too fast.”

  Would that be so bad? I’m not ready to say good night yet. “By the way, the interview? With Bill?”

  “Your dad is a hard man to say no to.” He slips his arm off me, turning to lean against my porch post, his hands sliding into his pockets. “But he’s right. The sport could use some positive attention, and I think my kennel and my dogs can do that. With your help, because I hate anything to do with the media.”

  “I’m not sure you want me there.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my vet, and an Iditarod trail vet.”

  “And I have a lot of issues with the industry, with the laws, and all the money tied to the sport.” I guess this conversation needs to happen, eventually. I just don’t know how Tyler will react, given how firmly entrenched he is in this world. “I may have grown up in Alaska, around all this, but I struggle with it. I see dogs like yours, who are cared for better than a lot of the house pets that come into my clinic, and I feel the energy and excitement of the dogs on the trail. But then I see dogs like Aurora, and Nymeria who was owned by a champion musher—”

  “I already know where your head’s at, Marie. I knew that first day when you showed up at my place. And we share the same issues. Haven’t you figured that out yet? Hell, I snuck onto a man’s property and stole his dog. I would have taken them all if I could.” His chuckle is without mirth. “Before I met Mila, I didn’t know much about this world, besides what I’d seen on the news. Then I moved to Finland and started living in it, and I saw a whole other side.

  “That first snowfall, when I bust out the sled?” He shakes his head. “No one can see how those dogs react and actually believe they’re not living their best lives. But I’m no idiot, and I don’t have blinders on, and I’m not going to pretend there aren’t shitty people out there and things that don’t need to change. People like Zed Snyder shouldn’t be anywhere near this sport or these dogs. You can say whatever the hell you want during that interview, and I’ll back you up.” He frowns, and I sense disappointment. “I’m surprised you’d even doubt that.”

  “It’s not that I doubted it. It’s just …” I guess I needed to hear it. “How do you always say the right things to me?”

  He smiles. “Do I?”

  They’re the things that pull me in deeper every time. Deeper, and closer to admitting that I’m falling in love with this man who casually leans against my little cabin as if he hasn’t so thoroughly invaded my life and my thoughts.

  Can he see that as plainly as I can?

  Slipping a hand from his pocket, he holds it out, palm up.

  Beckoning me.

  I slide mine into it without hesitation, allowing him to pull me closer.

  His expression softens as his eyes roam my face, lingering on my mouth. “You know, I never expected this to happen.”

  “Neither did I.” I’d all but given up on it.

  I’m waiting for him to lean in to kiss me, but he reaches for the screen door instead, leading me inside.

  The surge of expectation in the air is palpable as I step out of my muddy boots and into my little home. I pull the chain on a nearby lamp for some light. “It’s a bit of a mess.” I wasn’t expecting company. There are dishes in the sink and a hamper of laundry that I hauled to and from my parents’ earlier.

  He surveys the cozy space, his attention slowing on my bed. At least I washed the sheets and remade it. “It’s just like you.”

  “Are you calling me an old, messy shack in the woods, Tyler?”

  He’s about four inches taller than I am, but it seems like more as he closes the distance, herding me until my back settles against the wall. An oddly somber expression comes over his face.

  My heart pounds as he reaches up to stroke a strand of hair off my cheek, tucking it behind my ear, the touch sending a shiver skittering over my skin.

  “It’s honest, unpretentious, practical …” His words drift into a kiss that feels much like the one yesterday in the barn—gentle, and yet needy.

  I part my lips for him, allowing him inside, our tongues toying with each other as if testing boundaries for the night. In my head, there are none. We’ve already crossed lines I never expected us to even approach. The fact that he changed his mind about coming in tells me he knew where this would lead, and he made the conscious choice to let it happen.

  That night in the parking lot was frantic and rushed and desperate, our bodies mostly covered as we satisfied each other. Tonight, I want to see all of him, I want to feel all of him, every inch of bare skin against me.

  I press my palms against his stomach, sliding them upward, over his shapely chest, over his collarbones, up to scrape my fingertips across his bristly jaw, admiring every masculine inch of him.

  His lips leave mine to skate across my jaw and along my neck. Shivers dance along my spine as his hands slip beneath the hem of my shirt, splayed around my rib cage as they climb upward, until they reach my cotton sports bra. It was a choice for comfort rather than style that I vaguely regretted before, but now I see the benefit, as Tyler’s thumbs easily edge beneath, pushing up the material. I moan softly as he fills his palms with my breasts.

  I’ve never enjoyed anyone’s hands on me like his.

  I’ve never wanted anyone’s hands on me more.

  Tugging my top over my head, I toss it to the floor. My sweatpants follow immediately after until I’m standing in front of him in nothing but plain white panties that aren’t in the least bit sexy.

  But the way Tyler’s eyes heat as they rake shamelessly over my body sets my blood on fire, and nothing else matters. With a hard look of determination, he yanks off his shirt, uncovering a torso that, while lean and athletic, is sculpted with seasoned muscle.

  With eager anticipation, I loop my finger through his buckle and unfasten his belt. In seconds, I have his jeans undone and pulled open, exposing the ridge that I ache to feel inside me again.

  Strong, calloused hands grasp my thighs as he hoists me into the air and pins me against the wall, his mouth landing on mine, this time with that uncontrollable hunger that sent us spiraling last time. Maybe fast and furious is our only speed.

  My fingers curl around h
is biceps, memorizing their curves and firmness, acutely aware of the hard length pressing against me where our bodies meet and the way my body responds.

  His eager mouth leaves mine to drift over my jawline, along my neck, and down to seize a nipple.

  My head falls back against the wall, reveling in the delicious sensation and expertise in which he uses his tongue to tease until my breathing is labored and my fists are grasping at his hair and the building ache where his hips are nestled against me is almost unbearable.

  A wave of adrenaline rushes through as he lifts me off the wall and carries me toward my bed. But he stalls at the small wooden dining table, setting me on it. “Shit. Sorry.” He quickly sheds his shoes.

  I couldn’t care less if my entire place was covered in Tyler’s muddy footprints.

  My mouth goes dry as I trace the cut of his body, his jeans sitting low, exposing the sharp V at his hips.

  His palms slide over my bare thighs. “Marie, when you look at me like that …” His words trail, his eyes wild as they search every inch of me.

  I reach up to drag the soft pad of my thumb over his bottom lip. His mouth closes over it, his dark, heated stare locked on mine. The moment feels like the calm before an unyielding storm.

  I welcome the storm, arching my back instinctively.

  With a soft curse, his frantic lips land on mine again, his hands hooked around my thighs. I’m expecting him to carry me the rest of the way to my bed, but he tips me backward instead, until I’m splayed across my table and he’s guiding my panties off my hips and down my legs. His lips are a whisper against my ankle as he tosses the last of my clothing away.

  “Tyler …” I whisper, my voice thick with need. I peer up at him and am treated to a crooked smirk, as if he knows how utterly consumed I am by him.

  “I was waiting for you to say my name like that.” His gaze is molten as it touches me everywhere a second before his fingertips do, trailing the length of my body from my jaw down, over the swell of my breasts, along my rib cage, over my hip bones, between my legs. My body responds, undulating as he teases me with gentle but expert strokes.