Love Grows in Alaska (The Washington Triplets)

by Michelle Lynn

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue: One Month Later

  The Washington Triplets

  Love Discovered in New York

  Love Found in California

  Acknowledgements

  More Books by Michelle Lynn

  LOVE GROWS IN ALASKA

  Copyright ©2014 by Michelle Lynn

  All Rights Reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in whole or in part by any means.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events portrayed in this book are the product of the author’s imagination or are either fictitious or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Interior design and formatting: Perfectly Publishable (www.perfectlypublishable.com)

  Editing: Perfectly Publishable (www.perfectlypublishable.com)

  Cover Design: Cover Me, Darling (www.covermedarling.com)

  Photo Credit: Photography Shutterstock

  ANCHORAGE, ALASKA HAS BEEN MY home for all of two weeks now. I’ve slowly become accustomed to a region much different than the one I grew up in. Whereas, Chicago is still warm this time of the year, a jacket is already a necessity here. Well, at least it is for me, but not for the natives. Only making it easier to spot the Alaskans versus the newbies, since they bare short sleeve shirts, leaving their arms exposed to cooler elements, whereas I’m bundled up for a snowstorm.

  The reflective windows of the tallest building in not only Anchorage, but the whole state of Alaska, glitter against the early morning sun. Envy seeps in me, wishing the sun could warm me up to sparkle like the windows. I circle around the revolving door with the majority of everyone else on the street. Although its twenty-three story stature is miniscule compared to any building in the Chicago skyline, it houses most of the employees in the downtown area. In reference, it’s like the Willis Tower of the Anchorage skyscrapers. Completely different than Chicago though, but isn’t that why I’m here, for a change? Change of scenery, change of life. I refuse to be the good triplet any longer. Living my life trying to lead two strong-willed, heavy-debated sisters away from danger and despair is a lot on someone’s shoulders. And that was all while my mother was on the living side of life.

  When she died six months ago, I decide I couldn’t allow them to let me replace her. Visions of me shuffling around a kitchen with pots spilling over and alarms that food is ready, all while I try to greet guests and make them comfortable on Christmas flickered to mind. I was positive that if I stayed in Chicago, I’d assume the motherly role to my triplet sisters. They wouldn’t intentionally mean for it to happen, it’d just gradually veer that way. My dad is too blind to notice it, or to be bothered to put a stop to it. He’s much too busy with … what’s her name? Oh yeah, Janet. His mistress. He can spout off lie after lie about how he and my mother weren’t together any more, but how on Earth does someone marry another woman six months after they bury their wife? The weight of keeping our family as one cohesive unit is unbearable. Some days I miss my mom so much it’s hard to step out of bed. Others, the anger at my dad has me slamming cabinets and throwing anything that gets in my way. My emotions are so twisted into a ball when it comes to my family, it’s one of the reasons I ran and fled before I lost myself completely.

  A bag accidentally knocks against my hip, pulling me from my rambling thoughts. The woman politely apologizes before continuing on her way. Clyde, the security guard, smiles when I hold up my employee badge. “Good morning, Miss Washington,” he greets me. Another discovery that’s slowly becoming familiar to me. In this size of a building, he’s said hello to me by my name since day two. Everyone seems to make an extra effort to know everyone else. An anomaly when you come from the third largest city in the United States. It’s a nice change of pace to be important enough to be noticed. I’m fairly certain back at my job in Chicago, my co-worker in the cubicle next to me didn’t know my last name.

  Waiting in the elevator, I check my phone as others converse about their weekend activities. Not having much to add, unless you count watching Sweet Home Alabama while devouring a bag of Skittles. Not just the self-size bag, no, it was the bag of individually wrapped fun-size packs. The last envelope strewn to the side by the time Reese Witherspoon asks Josh Lucas if he’s done proving himself. Why I choose a romantic comedy that only reminds me of another facet that my life is lacking … love.

  The doors finally begin to close after the swarm of people rush in. An arm covered in a black suit coat, with a sparkling silver watch firm around the wrist, juts through the sliver of the opening, and the elevator doors stop before opening again. Peeking through my eyelashes, my breathing halts when the man belonging to the arm sneaks through the sliding doors and into my air space. My head quickly jolts up to allow my eyes the pleasure of devouring him from head to toe. I imagine messing up his perfectly gelled, dark wavy hair. Disrobing him of the tailored suit that shows off his broad shoulders that I’m certain have the strength to toss me in any position he demands. Everyone’s conversations quiet as others have little regard for staring. I cower my head, sneaking glimpses, because he’s that beautiful of a man. When he nods a hello to the group that is blatantly appraising his body, his eyes land on me, pausing briefly. My heart races when he pierces me with a set of stunning blue eyes and I will myself to turn away, but my body won’t listen. As though he can see through me, a small upturn of his lips and soft eyes makes me breathe easier. I can’t explain what it is, but my body enjoys his attention. As fast as our quiet eye contact happens, it vanishes even faster when another woman distracts him away.

  As the elevator starts and stops on its rise to the top, the people dwindle in the space. By the time it arrives on floor nineteen, it’s only me, the gorgeous man and the woman who’s currently talking to him about the change of weather. He’s pleasant and polite, responding to her, but not adding much to the conversation. Not that she minds. I think she’s strictly into conversing solely for the purpose that her hand has access to his arm. I lost count how many times her hand has rested on his forearm, twenty times ago.

  The doors slide open; reflexively I give one last glance and he winks in my direction with a sexy grin. “Have a good day.” He speaks to me and I awkwardly stumble out of the elevator from the unexpected warmth of his deep voice. Times like this I wish I had the guts to turn around and saunter back in, occupy his attention like the other woman did, but instead two hands catch me before the doors slide shut. When I gather my bearings, disappointment coils through me when brown eyes look down to me. “Hi, Pete.” I release a breath, greeting the guy who always seems to be around when I make a fool of myself. Although, I think he secretly loves the whole knight in shining armor persona guys use to make them feel worthwhile. Since most knights are arrogant, Pete fits in just fine, which takes him out of the running as a dating possibility.

  “I’m always here to catch you.” He flirts and I inwardly roll my eyes. He continues to hold my elbow even though I’ve recovered from my embarrassing tumble.

  “Thank you.” I gently nudge my elbow out of his grip and start walking down the hall, but he stays in pace with me.

  “Did you hear about the meeting this morning?” He opens the doors for me and p
laces his hand on the small of my back. I wiggle my torso so his hand falls off and enter the office. I’m at about max tolerance of his touchy hands.

  When I first met Pete, on my first day, in the break room, I thought he was nice. I was filling up my coffee mug and there he was, taking the pot out of my hands, and pouring it for me. But lately, it’s hard to figure out if he’s being nice, chivalrous, or paying forward for something he’ll want down the road. Which he can forget about in regards to me. He’s been here six months, and graduated from University of Anchorage. Born and bred as he puts it. If I didn’t catch it the first time around, I’d know from how many times he’s told me that he could be my tour guide. That he’s got the down low to the great sights. It’s the sights he wants so desperately to show me that has me worried.

  “Um … I got the email on my phone.” I glance at my watch and groan, noticing there’s only ten minutes until I have to be in the conference room. “Thanks again, Pete. I better go and get situated,” I say, turning the opposite way of his office, escaping down the hall.

  I’m lucky to be placed in the back corner of the building with a view of the mountains, if I stand on my tiptoes and peek over my cubicle wall. Hanging my coat up on the designated hook I ordered for myself, I place my laptop on the dock, and pull out my phone. I fluster, unable to enjoy my morning routine of booting up my computer while grabbing a coffee and then starting my day. Instead I scramble to dig up a pad and pen and head to the conference room.

  Henbrook Drilling is a smaller company that’s fast on the rise. I’m fortunate enough that they’re growing at such a dramatic rate, because it was their growth that got me the job when they needed another Human Resources Associate. I feel lucky that they hired me after two phone interviews and paid for my move up here. Since most employees I’m responsible to hire go up to the North Alaskan Coast, I’m in charge of handling their drug tests, psychology testing, and other initial paperwork down here. It’s not glamorous by any means, but it got me the hell out of Chicago while still using my degree.

  A steaming cup of coffee sits next to my co-worker, Libby Roy, when I pull out the seat next to her. She’s so cute with her short blonde bob, magenta-rimmed glasses and petite figure. On my first day, she peeked over the cubicle wall, pushing up her glasses and introducing herself to me. Hitting it off immediately, she’s my closest friend in Anchorage. She’s quieter than me, but we both enjoy gossiping about Pete and the show Grey’s Anatomy. I’m excited for this Thursday because she’s supposed to come over to my small one-bedroom apartment to gorge on junk food and watch the season premiere.

  “Coffee delivery from your prince charming,” she teases, raising her eyebrows a few times when I sit down in the chair next to her.

  “Seriously, I’m not sure he could get a hint if I stamped it on my forehead.” I roll my eyes, scooting the coffee over slightly, although it smells damn good. “What’s the meeting about?” I ask her.

  She pushes her glasses up on her nose and leans in. “Team building is the rumor.”

  “Great,” I exasperate, very unenthused. “So, what did you do this weekend?”

  “Nothing really. Camden wanted to go to the movies. Thor … again.” She sighs.

  Libby followed Camden up to Alaska a year ago. They both attended Oregon State and when Camden got offered a park ranger position, he asked her to come with. She started at Henbrook four months ago after temping at numerous offices around Anchorage.

  “Well, it’s more exciting than watching a romance until you pass out from a sugar coma.” Libby giggles at my admittance, but this sadly is my present life.

  “I told you, let me set you up,” she says, doodling flowers on her own pad of paper.

  “I may have to consider that once I get completely settled.” The thought of a blind date in Alaska who is friends with a park ranger doesn’t sound like a success. I’m not really ready for some plaid flannel wearing guy with a long beard that doesn’t go anywhere without his gun on the off chance he spots a deer or moose.

  “The offer stands, just let me know.” She leaves it open and greets the other new guy, Wesley Deed, as he walks into the office. “Hi, Wesley,” she says kindly.

  “Hey, girls,” he responds, giving us a nod of his head. Wesley is the typical macho guy you assume you’d find in Alaska. The fact he just referred to us as girls instead of ladies, or our actual names, tells me all I really need to know about him.

  “Deeds,” I greet him back, and he narrows his eyes to me briefly before turning his attention back to his phone.

  “Hey, Wes, I didn’t know you’d be in the meeting?” Pete lazily saunters in the room.

  “Yeah.” Wesley quickly disregards him and Pete’s attention focuses to me once again. My wish vanishes when he doesn’t take a seat by Wes, but walks all the way around the oval table to me. He places his computer next to me and slides the chair out, earning a grumble from me, which earns me an elbow jab from Libby.

  “Did you get my coffee?” he asks, and Libby stifles a laugh, twisting in her chair so he doesn’t notice.

  “I did, thank you. I forgot to tell you I gave up coffee.” I smile and his lips turn down.

  “When?” he questions, and I keep up my charade.

  “This weekend. Trying to go all healthy with wheat grass smoothies and things. No caffeine.”

  “Oh, have you tried that place down in the Atrium?” Libby adds and I kick her foot under the table. She scrunches her eyes and then goes back to focusing on her phone.

  “Doing it at home. You can never trust the other places,” I continue in my flat-out dishonesty.

  Luckily, he’s about to open his mouth when the Human Resources manager, my boss, Mr. Ashby, walks into the room. His salt and pepper hair completely groomed along with his matching beard. The short sleeve blue shirt brings out the color even more. He’s an attractive older man who I hope will be a great mentor for a new, younger employee like myself.

  “Good morning, everyone,” he announces and we all look around the room at one another in confusion.

  “Aren’t we missing like twenty people?” Pete asks, and Mr. Ashby shakes his head.

  “No, you guys are it,” he answers, oblivious to our confusion.

  All of our questioning faces must finally register to him, because he quickly adds, “The four of you are the most recent hires. Word came down from upstairs that with the company growing, they want to ensure that it still stays small in the sense of employees’ relationships with one another.”

  “Okay,” Wesley draws out, “so, what do they want? Us all to go to dinner, have drinks, or something?”

  “Something more like a team building retreat. The four of you are our test subjects. You’ll be going up to King’s Gate for one week. It’s all on the company.” Shoving folders at us, they slide in our direction and we each stop one with our hands. “In there, you’ll find your itinerary. Reckle’s Guide Tours is your host.”

  “Is this a mandatory thing?” Libby asks, her fingers flipping through all of the papers.

  “Yes, Miss Roy, it is. Like I said, this is coming from the higher ups.”

  Searching the papers, I spot the departure date is this coming Saturday. Five days to pack for a trip into the unknown. Pete talks to Mr. Ashby about the area, spouting the facts of wildlife, glaciers, and other encyclopedia statistics.

  “Well, that’s it,” Mr. Ashby says, ending the meeting. “You can have Friday off in preparation. Otherwise, meet at the airport early Saturday morning and I’ll expect a great recap on your experience when you return.” He leaves the room and all of us, besides Pete, are stunned into silence.

  “This fucking sucks.” Wesley stands up and leaves the room.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to tell Camden.” Libby’s voice shakes as she stands and exits as well.

  “I think this is great. We’ll have a lot of fun,” Pete adds next to me, not standing or leaving the room, which makes me rise from the uncomfortable feeling
settling inside of me.

  “Well … I better start figuring out what I need to buy,” I say, stupidly, realizing after the fact that he probably knows the best shops to go to and exactly what I need to be prepared. I can just imagine Pete pushing himself into the dressing room with some excuse about how snug an article of clothing should be on me.

  “If you need tips, just let me know. I’ll probably go tonight or tomorrow. There’s this place a block away, we could eat lunch …” He rambles on and on.

  “I’ll let you know. Thanks, Pete,” I say as politely as possible while leaving the conference room.

  On my way back to my four-by-four square, I overhear Libby talking to Camden. “Cam, it’s mandatory, as in no choice,” she explains to him and my stomach churns at the shakiness of her voice. “No, I’m not going to quit.” I stop to eavesdrop outside her narrow entrance. “Marisa will be with me, too. It’s only a week and you’re scheduled for most of that week anyway. You’ll barely notice I’m gone.” Once I hear her fifth exasperated sigh, I make a mental note to ask Libby about why she’s so worried. I escape into my own private seclusion to ponder what exactly this little impromptu team building vacation will bring me.

  Firing up my laptop, I Google Map from Anchorage to King’s Gate. Located only two hours away, I figure it can’t be that secluded being so close to a major metropolitan area as Anchorage. Then I click on the Reckle’s Guide Tours icon, figuring they must be pretty well-known if they have their own link on the government site. Really, how bad could this be?

  My eyes scan the company description. Family-owned, various tours from novice to advanced, and lastly five-star dining restaurants and entertainment at the resort. Pictures show it resembles a small village where everyone knows everyone, and unfortunately, everyone’s financial fate rests in the hands of the Reckle’s family business. But it’s inviting with the quaint lines of shops down the main street. Although, when Mr. Ashby initially told us, I didn’t want to go, I’m kind of excited to see more of Alaska.