by Rae, Harloe
Blakely cringes at my subtle movements. “I’m really sorry.”
“Hey.” I cradle her jaw in my palm, attempting to offer comfort without sounding too pacifying. “I don’t mind, okay? Having you snuggling against me is the furthest thing from a punishment. Well, in most circumstances.”
“Ugh, I’m the worst cuddle buddy ever. You even warned me last night. Are you in pain?”
“Nah, I’ll survive.” But I’d give just about anything to adjust my throbbing junk without her noticing.
She glances behind her, catching the rising sun streaking through the trees. “Should we get up?”
Already am, sweetheart. But there’s not a chance in hell I’d return to that topic with no possibility for relief. “Probably not a bad idea to get started with our day.”
I wrestle myself from the confines of our bedding, rolling to a wobbling standstill. Clarity seeps in once a bit of the lust clears from my brain. Regardless of the desire pounding into me, my body is refreshed. Rewinding the past several hours, I didn’t feel the instinctive push to wake twenty times throughout the night to feed the fire. My limbs aren’t bogged down by exhaustion. There’s a crisp alertness in my brain that’s been lacking since chronic fatigue set in years ago. I haven’t slept that well in long enough not to remember. The credit for my restful state goes to the beauty still bundled in her fluffy pod.
With an outstretched arm, I offer her a bit of assistance. A quick yank and she’s slamming into my torso with a squeal. “Are you fully awake yet?”
She blinks at me, her baby blues blown open wide. “Yeah, that jolt might be better than caffeine.”
I give her a wink. “You’re welcome. I’ll get us breakfast.”
“And I’ll be waiting. Yum, yum.” She pats her belly, rustling the wind-resistant fabric underneath.
“It won’t take long. You can time me.”
Blakely holds up her wrist that’s visibly bare. After tapping at a pretend watch, she stretches onto the tips of her booted toes. Several snaps and cracks sound from her spine when she bends in half. Maybe a massage will be in order later. Of course, that will only lead to me doubling my frustration. Not that I’ve been avoiding trouble so far.
After tossing a few logs on the smoldering ashes, I set my aim on the river. My steps falter within three feet of the pit. Our camp is ravaged. Not that there was much to destroy beyond trees and dirt. Chunks of wood and greenery are strewn in every direction. How the hell did we miss this? The noise must have been deafening. I glance at Blakely to find her surveying the crime scene with the same disbelief as me. It’s surprising how much damage a storm can cause in nature. The forest looks more trashed than a frat house after a weekend binge.
And this morning? Daylight is breaking as if none the wiser, hiding any involvement behind a swatch of blinding rays. The mischievous happenings that occur during the darkness of night are a problem for the stars and moon. How ironic.
I kick at a discarded clump of broken twigs. It’s odd to think of us moving along to a different spot, hoping for better. What we find might be in worse condition. The spark inside of me refuses to dwell, nurtured by the woman responsible for igniting that flicker. I stride forward with straightened shoulders and stronger resolve.
Even with the temporary drop in temperature, the water is packed with a rainbow of scales. Catching fish has never been easier. I have four trout on a spear within two minutes. It takes me another ten to have them cleaned, cooked, and served.
I pass Blakely a bowl and drop down beside her. “The assholes who thought we couldn’t survive in these woods didn’t consider the stocked stream.”
“Or the fact you’re a seaman at heart.”
A bouncy chuckle trembles the dish in my hands. “That’s one hell of a title.”
“You’ve earned it.” She wiggles her brows at me. “So, what’s on our agenda for this fine day?”
I glance up at the brightening sky. The cascade of late dawn basks over us, creating a yellow and orange veil over the blanket of fresh snow. “If the weather cooperates, we should continue down the river. I’m hoping we come across a valley or the trees thin out at a certain point. Then we can build a bigger brush fire.”
“With the smoke signals?”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, I love that plan.”
Her beaming grin will have me agreeing to just about anything. With a bob of my head, I do exactly that.
Survival tip #19: It’s no joke that the right passenger is vital on an adventure, especially when traveling left.
I dip my paddle into the rippling tide, angling our canoe to avoid a jagged rock. We’ve only been traveling for a short stint, according to my rustic form of measurement. The sun is still lazy along the eastern horizon, resistant to rise farther until commanded. Bursts of pink and purple stretch across the sky in preparation for a long day. I can’t sympathize with that lagging feeling. For once, the fringes of depletion are a memory of yesterday. Our outlook has a brighter view thanks to several solid hours in a heavily insulated sleeping bag.
The wilderness provides a dynamic soundtrack for our early departure. Babbling gurgles from the river greet us. A flock of rowdy birds rustle in the treetops. Random crackling and rattles send out alerts as the forest awakens. My mood sways upstream to the beat of these tranquil songs. Not every noise is peaceful, though. The echo of several howls chase us, but those haunting notes are more of a distant chime. Perhaps we’re leaving wolf territory behind. Their threatening presence will only be replaced by another. I rub at the prickles crawling up my neck, refusing to already cast shadows on this morning.
As always, my travel companion provides a convenient distraction. I smile at the vision Blakely creates while haphazardly sprawling across the narrow bench. “How’s it hanging up there? Managing okay?”
Her gaze is stuck on the passing flight of an eagle. “Hmm?”
But I’m getting caught in the moment, allowing the wide wingspan to sweep my attention into the clouds. The wildlife in this part of Canada is surreal. If people aren’t scouring these lands for documentaries, they’re seriously missing out on an epic reel of footage. The leaping fish are an entertaining show of their own. South Dakota waters don’t offer the same talent. I shake that off with a grunt.
“Just wanted to make sure you’re all good.”
“Yeah.” Blakely drags her baby blues from the view overhead. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You weren’t all that comfortable on the boat before.” I squint at her through the streaks cresting over the evergreens.
“Oh, right. I’m putting that fear behind me. Being out here is a natural high. I’ve decided to just go with the flow.” She makes the motion of waves with her hand.
I watch her smooth gesture with a grin. It seems I’m not the only one who gained a boost of chill vibes. “All right, continue on then.”
Blakely straightens, pinning those relaxed features on me. The sight of her lopsided smile is enough to slow my already calm pulse. “And how are you doing?”
“Living the dream.”
“Have things settled down?” She takes a meaningful glance at my lap. I made the mistake of spilling a secret or two in regards to the shade of my balls. Her curiosity is sexy as fuck. If only I could find a way to satisfy that piqued interest, for both of our sakes.
I quirk a brow at her. “Not for much longer if we’re going to talk about this.”
“Can’t I be concerned about the overall state of your health and wellbeing? My survival is heavily dependent on yours.”
That gets a dry scoff out of me. “No pressure, huh?”
“There’s no point in pretending I’d stand a chance if you took a turn for the worse.” She twists her lips into a pinched bow.
I flare my nostrils, sucking in a long breath. “Well, lucky for you, my dick’s contentment doesn’t have much to do with how I’m doing in general.”
“I’m still taking the blame for making things worse.�
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“You shouldn’t, Blakely.”
She crosses her arms, pinning me with a flat stare. “How can I not? I’m the one who did all of the stroking.”
With a groan, I rip my gaze from her. Revealing that a single look gets me hard won’t absolve her from guilt. I clear that confession away with the makings of a new one. “Think of it this way. My sex drive has been in a severe state of hibernation. You woke me up. I can handle the discomfort because it’s been years. And that’s not an exaggeration.”
Blakely bites at a gloved finger. “How have you managed?”
“Prison.” Enough said.
“That’s a fitting explanation for almost everything.”
“Unfortunately.” The years spent behind bars have warped me beyond repair. It seemed impossible to regain any semblance of a normal existence. That was the toxic influence talking. This woman is already doing a damn fine job bending me into a presentable replica of my former self. If nothing else, these last three days are proving anything can happen.
Blakely shifts on her seat, the rusty metal groaning in protest. “Oh, hush. No one asked for your opinion, Skipper.” She rolls her eyes with a huff. “Anyway, I have another thought-provoking question for you. If you’re willing to humor me, that is.”
I shake my head with a scoff. “What else am I gonna do? Ask away, boss.”
She sits up even straighter, piercing me with those heavenly blue depths. “If you were never arrested, how would you have spent the last five years?”
“Well, shit.” I scrub a palm over my mouth. “I haven’t given that avenue much room to grow since the cell door slammed closed behind me. Something about your life being stolen robs a lot more than time. I’d probably still be doing the contract jobs with software and security. That career was paying off just fine.”
“Would you still be working for them?” She doesn’t have to specify. We’re well aware by this point who they are.
“I’d like to say no, but that’s bullshit. They were legit enough on a surface level that I wouldn’t have suspected any foul play unless something tipped me off. That’s the hard truth. The best criminals never get caught.”
“I guess that’s what made you an easy target, or a really crappy crook.”
A familiar weight drops in my gut. “Yeah, I’m a damn sucker. They probably chose to hire me for that purpose. Planned to hook me from the start as a smokescreen. I bet they have several fools lined up in their organization to take the fall.”
She curls her upper lip. “That’s so messed up. It’s because you’re a good person. One thing evil cannot beat is a genuine soul. Mean-spirited people won’t ever have true happiness, and they’re jealous of those that do. They won’t stop ripping and shredding others down until a thread comes loose or something gives. It’s also very difficult for them to see logic past their own agenda.”
“Sounds to me you have some experience on the subject.”
“Those personality traits and character types are unavoidable in my field. They keep me employed, to be honest.”
“How pleasant,” I mutter.
Blakely exhales, her shoulders slumping with the deflating breath. “Comes with the territory. I’ve gotten used to them, for the most part. Getting thicker skin is still a work in progress.”
“I was housed with many of them at Streebston. You never get used to their kind of shit being spewed your way. And you shouldn’t have to.” Just thinking about those predators near her has my hands forming into fists. The rough wood beneath my palms digs into my skin from the force.
“Everyone deserves another shot at redemption, right? Or someone who will listen to their side, at least.”
No, definitely not. But I won’t be the one to completely tarnish her faith in humanity. “I’ll say it again—you’re a saint.”
A dimple pops in her smooth cheek. “Not sure about that, but thanks.”
I return her grin. “How about you, Blakely? What would you change from the past few years?”
She taps her chin. “Oh, where do I even begin? Well, for starters, I like to imagine we meet somewhere other than a prison. Or the Canadian wilderness.”
That’s a damn fine fantasy I can get behind. “Such as?”
“Offering to buy me a drink at some local bar is cliché.” Blakely lifts a hand to her forehead as a shield from a strip of blinding sun. Her eyes crinkle at the corners with a harsh squint. “Maybe online? That’s kinda your thing, huh?”
“Never met a girl that way,” I admit.
She wrinkles her nose. “How about at a sporting event?”
That gets a nod from me. “I like hockey.”
“Would you buy me a foam finger?”
This girl could get anything she wanted out of me. “Of course, sweetheart. A signed jersey, too.”
Blakely whistles. “Big spender.”
“In this alternative universe, I’d spoil my woman rotten.”
Her mouth pops open with a gasp. “Oh! There’s always a dog park. Maybe our Goldendoodles get their leashes intertwined.”
I shoot her a blank look at my thoughts spin. “Do you have a dog?”
“Well, no. But I could. This is all hypothetical.”
With a thick exhale, I force my heart to slow its pace. “All right, sure. Or we could both volunteer at an animal shelter.”
“Wow, that would be so cute. We’re freaking adorable with all the flirting. I could follow you into a storage closet for supplies during a late shift.” A twinkle sparkles in her gaze.
I can picture that scene unfolding with ease. “You’re so fucking sexy, chasing after me.”
She nibbles on her bottom lip. “I know, right? When did I become so forward?”
“I bring out a bold and naughty side in you.”
“That’s true in our actual situation.” Her sigh is all breathy desire swirling in the frosty air between us. “We’re dating in slow motion on a fast track. It’s only been three days, but I feel like you already know me better than anyone. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, it does.” More than I’m willing to confess. Even to her. “I haven’t talked this much since college. And most of that was out of obligation.”
“Where did you attend?”
“University of Minnesota. Go Gophers!” I raise an arm and pump my fist.
“Ah, a fellow Goldie. Guess we could’ve met on campus.”
A grunt from me follows her assumption. “I probably graduated before you enrolled.”
Blakely giggles. “I forgot you’re old.”
“It’s not polite to tease your elders.” And damn straight, there’s a grumble to my tone.
“Okay, geezer. You’re not even thirty.”
I rub at the sore spot on my chest. “Wounds my pride all the same.”
She leans forward, puckering her lips. “Want me to kiss you all better?”
“Can you do that without tipping the canoe?”
With a cautious rewind, she promptly resumes her former position on the bench. “It’s best not to risk that. I’ll make it up to you later.”
“Promise?” A twitch from below the belt is a bit too eager.
“Uh-huh. Especially if we find a hot spring.”
“Would you go in if there is one?”
Blakely tugs off a glove, licks her finger, and sticks that moist digit up in the light breeze. After a few seconds of silent deliberation, she seems to arrive at a decision. “I’ve done the Polar Plunge and didn’t catch hypothermia. The temperature isn’t unbearably cold. I could peel off my top layers and be comfortable enough for several minutes. Plus, that water should be warm. Isn’t that the point?”
I’m not going to argue about her stripping and getting wet. This could be a game changer. It all depends on stumbling across a fucking hot springs pot in the middle of nowhere. I don’t think the odds are favorable, but any chance is better than none. With a wag of my brows, I toss her an offer. “I’ll even go in first.”
“Deal.
” She offers an open palm, which I accept with a firm shake. “So, how likely is it we actually find one of those steamy pools?”
“They’re known to appear throughout Canada, but this far north might be a different story.” I allow my gaze to wander across the forest walling us in on both sides. What I find changes the route of my thoughts.
The destruction at our camp was merely a prequel. This far into our daily travels and the shadows of ruin still follow us. Broken limbs hang by strips of bark. Clumps of debris litter the river. The wreckage doesn’t appear all bad, though. A heavy blanket of white covers most surfaces, signaling a fresh start for the following morning. That sheet of snow isn’t just a cloak for the frozen ground. I can’t help but feel like nature is giving us a free pass.
Blakely’s focus trails mine, scouring the embankments. “I still can’t believe we didn’t wake up during that storm. It must have been super loud, huh?”
“I don’t see how any of this could be quiet. From the looks of it, a damn tornado swept through the woods with a baby blizzard following close behind.”
“And we didn’t hear a thing.”
“Karma owes us,” I murmur with a grin.
Her baby blues light up brighter than the sunrise. “Are you a believer?”
My smile stretches wider. “Getting there. Are you usually a heavy sleeper?”
She blows out a long breath, flapping her lips in the process. “Uh, yeah. Probably to a fault. I usually need three alarms and several snooze rounds. How about you?”
I laugh at the idea of her finally rolling out of bed, disgruntled and mussed as fuck. “The total opposite. I rarely get more than a few shitty hours of rest. The slightest noise has me up and alert.”
Blakely’s frown holds the weight of my somber tone. “That’s awful.”
I shrug off the common reaction. “It’s what I’m used to. Running on an empty tank doesn’t seem so bad when I don’t remember the alternative.”
“Prison?”