One Hot Night: A Jupiter Point Novella

by Jennifer Bernard

He got it. It made sense. Their lives were completely different and really, they were practically strangers.

  But she didn’t feel like a stranger. All this concentrated time together felt like a super-compressed way to get to know each other. And he really liked what he knew so far.

  She was brave—look at how she’d sprung him from that cabin.

  She was compassionate and loyal—look at how she was taking care of her mother.

  She was honest—look at how she’d told Darren the truth about her feelings, even though she was intimidated.

  She was talented and funny—Captain Bedhead?

  Also, he really liked her kiss. And her fragrance. And the feel of her silky hair and soft skin. Something about her touched him to his core.

  He shoved all those thoughts aside and cleared a space in the debris on the forest floor to make a small fire. Better to make their fire out here. He didn’t want to smoke up the cave, in case they ended up sleeping there. The night sounds rose around him. The drip-drip of the moisture still dropping from the tree branches. The shy scrabbles of night-hunting creatures. The sigh of the wind through the tops of the swaying pines.

  He hadn’t been camping in this area since his father had died. Robert Knight had loved it out here. He was a big believer in getting his kids out into the wilderness from an early age.

  He pushed aside the thought of his father and listened for sounds of other nearby humans. He didn’t hear any, which was a huge relief. Darren was probably back at Three Forks by now, and who knew where Dearborn was. What would he do when he discovered Aiden had escaped? What if he decided to plan some other crazy attack on a different member of the Knight family? It scared the hell out of him that Dad’s killer was out there, probably pissed as hell. He needed to get word to his brothers. He needed to get back to civilization.

  He turned off the headlamp and looked skyward. Heavy clouds covered most of the sky, but they were moving fast, and once in a while a patch of clear starry sky opened up.

  Again he thought of his dad, who used to take them all stargazing at Jupiter Point. Robert Knight had made all his kids learn the major constellations and star systems, and taught them about the planets and retrograde orbits and the various space probes mapping the planets.

  Dad changed when he was out in nature; he got more relaxed. He used to tell terrible “star” jokes, like…“Why does no one like Orion’s Belt? Because it’s a big waist of space,” or, “Cassiopeia’s a great constellation, five stars.” They’d groan and make fun of his “dad” jokes and…

  “Aiden?”

  He startled. Mia was climbing out of the opening of the cave.

  “Everything okay out here?”

  “Yeah, I was just looking for a good place to start a fire.”

  She glanced upwards. “In the sky?”

  He laughed. “Got distracted. I was just thinking about all the times my dad took us stargazing.”

  Standing up, she stretched her arms overhead and arched her back to get the kinks out. “Yeah, you mentioned that’s a big thing in Jupiter Point.”

  “It is. It’s even the town motto—Remember to Look Up at the Stars. But I’ve avoided it ever since that bastard killed my father. It made me miss him too much. I’ve avoided a lot of things. That’s kind of sad, when you think about it.”

  She stepped next to him. “It’s understandable. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from watching my mom get sick, it’s that you have to kind of block some things out unless you want to spend all your time crying.”

  “I did cry,” he admitted. “I cried a lot, but only in my own room when none of my brothers could hear.”

  She laughed and nudged him in the side. “You were eight, right? What kind of weird eight-year-old would you be if you didn’t cry over your father dying?”

  “I cried after I was eight, too.” He shot her a grin. “Just don’t tell my brothers. It’s a guy thing.”

  “All right, guy.” She rolled her eyes a little. “So how do we make this soup happen? Guys know that kind of thing, right?”

  “I sure hope so. I’m starving.” He squatted by the patch of ground he’d cleared. He’d surrounded it with a ring of moss and stones. She handed him all the bits and pieces of paper, which he set up in a careful pyramid. He found a few sticks that weren’t entirely drenched, and set those on top of the pile of paper. With her knife, he shaved off bits of his pencil and set those aside.

  “Okay, now we need your canteen,” he told her. She scrambled back inside the cave and came back with her canteen, while he used rocks to rig a makeshift grill. He unscrewed the stainless-steel cap of the canteen, which doubled as a cup, filled it with water, and added the soup powder.

  She watched every move he made, and he had to admit that he enjoyed her attention. Daisy generally treated him like a wayward brother. He wasn’t used to being the savior.

  “Ready?” he asked her when everything was in place.

  “Is this really going to work?”

  “Only one way to find out. Got the lighter?”

  She handed it over, and he flicked flame onto the twists of paper under the cup. It caught right away. Fire curled along the edges of the paper and a thin column of smoke lifted skyward.

  Mia clapped her hands. “You did it!”

  “The trick is to keep it going,” he muttered, focused on feeding the tiny campfire. Since it was mostly paper, he had to keep adding twigs and pencil shavings to keep it from burning out.

  Finally it reached a steady smolder, smoky enough to have them both blinking. He propped the canteen cup on the rocks. Smoke swirled around it. Before long, bubbles rose on the surface of the water inside the metal cup.

  “Captain Bedhead strikes again!” Mia teased. She sat on her heels next to him, the flicker of the flames creating magical shadows on her heart-shaped face. “I didn’t know you had fire-starting powers too.” Right away, color rose in her cheeks. Either from embarrassment or from the heat, he couldn’t tell. “I mean, literal fires. Not, you know—”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he deadpanned, just to spare her feelings. “What other kind of fire could there possibly be?”

  “Exactly.” A smile played across her lips as she relaxed. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re very easy to be around?”

  He shrugged as he poked more twigs into the little flame pyramid. “Is that a good thing?”

  “Of course it’s a good thing. I don’t feel like I have to watch every little thing I say. You’re not waiting to pounce if I make a mistake.”

  “Darren?” he said dryly. Honestly, he was getting tired of hearing about the guy.

  “I’m sorry.” She seemed to pick up on that same thought. “I’ll stop talking about him. Every time I say his name, I get a stomach ache anyway.”

  “You sure that’s not pangs of hunger?”

  “Could be.” She smiled and touched her stomach. “Is it almost ready?”

  He leaned over the little makeshift pot. “It’s barely warm. We need more wood. Do you want to stay here and feed the fire and I’ll look for some bigger sticks? Or do you want to look?”

  She shot him an alarmed look, as if he’d just suggested she hike to the highway by herself.

  “Never mind,” he said quickly. “We’ll go together. It won’t take long and the fire will be fine.” Just in case, he moved everything remotely flammable even farther away from the ring of stones. Then he rose to his feet and offered his hand.

  As soon as she took it, a sense of rightness came over him. The way a key felt when it turned all the tumblers in a lock, or the way it felt to ride a perfectly crafted new surfboard. He probably ought to question why it felt this way with her—but he didn’t want to. He just wanted to enjoy it.

  Hand in hand, they stepped into the shadows of the woods around the cave. He scanned the ground looking for sticks that might have evaded the downpours. In the hush of the night, surrounded by wilderness, they picked their way past gnarled
tree trunks and under prickly branches.

  Her hair got caught in one especially stubborn spruce branch, and they stopped so he could help her untangle it. Her warm breath wafted against his cheek as he worked. He felt himself get hard again. Sometimes it sucked to be a twenty-year-old male. So easy to get turned on, especially around someone as appealing as Mia.

  Then again, judging by the way her breath picked up too, maybe he wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

  “There you go,” he said gruffly when he got her long hair free. He cleared his throat and took a step forward, back onto the path.

  “Thank you.” That breathy, husky voice didn’t exactly help him with that hard-on.

  “Sure thing. We’d better hurry in case our fire goes out.”

  “Yes, of course.” She crouched down, somewhat randomly, and reached for something on the ground. Then paused. “Uh oh. What’s this?”

  He hurried to squat next to her and aimed the beam of his headlamp where she was looking. The pile of black ooze sent a chill through him. Bear scat.

  And not just any bear scat. It was still only late April. That meant this belonged to a bear who’d just come out of hibernation and who hadn’t eaten since fall. That bear was even hungrier than they were.

  “Um, what do you say we go back to the cave now? I think we have enough sticks.” He tried to keep his voice calm but she saw right through him.

  “What is it? Tell me.”

  He rose to his feet and put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s bear poop, probably. I don’t know what else would leave such a huge pile behind. And, uh, well, it’s still steaming. Which means it’s recent. Bears don’t usually roam around at night, but maybe the storm threw him off. Anyway, I’m thinking it’s best if we get out of here.”

  She’d gone stiff under his arm. “Where’s the bear spray? Shit! I left it in my pack, in the cave.”

  “It’s okay. We’ll go back there right now. It’ll be fine. Just stay behind me, to be safe.” He maneuvered so he was walking ahead of her, though she followed so closely she might as well be riding piggy back. Not that he minded. The closer the better, as far as he was concerned.

  As they neared the clearing outside the cave, he caught the glow of the embers of the fire. Relief filled him—they were almost back, and their fire was still alive, and soon they’d be sipping soup back in their cozy little cave.

  Then a shadow passed between them and the fire. A big, bulky shadow.

  He froze and Mia stumbled against him. “What?” she asked, before he clapped his hand over her mouth.

  “Shhh,” he whispered in her ear. The silk of her hair brushed against his lips. “Bear,” he mouthed, uttering the word in the barest whisper.

  She froze too, her entire body going rigid. He put his arm around her and stepped aside so she could see too. She shoved right up against him, trembling from head to toe. He felt her warm curves plastered against him. And even though he was scared too—facing a bear with no defense at hand—he was still able to appreciate how good she felt nestled under his arm.

  They watched as the bear lumbered toward the aromatic steam rising from the soup. With one swipe of its paw, it knocked the cup off the fire, then stuck its nose into the liquid pouring onto the ground.

  Mia gave a disappointed sigh. Aiden’s stomach grumbled. That was the second time one of his meals had hit the ground today. The first was entirely his fault, but this bear had a lot to answer for.

  It lapped up the soup with a couple strokes of its tongue, then turned its attention to the rest of the things they’d left by the campfire. It knocked over the canteen, sending a stream of water toward the fire. Then it found Mia’s notebook and pushed its nose between the covers.

  Mia squeaked in alarm. The bear’s head swung up, gazing in their direction. The firelight gave its eyes an eerie glow as it sniffed the air. What could it tell from their scent? That it was outnumbered? That they were unarmed?

  At least there were no little bear cubs trailing after it. If this was a mama bear, they’d be in big trouble. But if it was just a hungry male looking for a meal, it would probably decide they weren’t worth it. Bears didn’t like to fight humans. They’d only battle to defend themselves or their young.

  Another stroke of luck was that this was a black bear, not a brown grizzly. Black bears were less aggressive and more easily encouraged to move along. His father had drilled into him how to deal with brown bears versus black bears. If a brown bear actually attacked, you played dead. With a black bear, you ran for it. With either type, you were supposed to speak calmly, make sure they knew you were a human, and try to look as big as possible.

  Aiden and Mia stayed perfectly still while the bear assessed their scents. The moment stretched out into an agonizing eternity. The bear took a step toward them, its paw landing right on Mia’s notebook.

  “Follow my lead,” Aiden whispered in Mia’s ear.

  As soon as he felt her frightened nod, he stepped into the clearing, arms on his hips, making himself look as tall and intimidating as possible. He addressed the bear in a calm, low voice.

  “Hello bear, I’m Aiden and this is Mia, that’s our stuff you’re going through, and you spilled our soup, which was our only food except for Clif Bars, and you knocked over our water but we really don’t want you to you ruin that notebook, so it’s time for you to go now, Mr. Bear. Go along now and no one will get hurt. I’m Captain Bedhead and this is my friend Mia, she probably has a superpower name too but I don’t know what it is, okay bear? You can go now, bear. It’s a big forest out there and there’s lots better food than instant soup.”

  As he rattled on with his stream of nonsense, Mia chimed in behind him. “Hi Mr. Bear, that’s my notebook and you can have it as long as you don’t hurt us and we really wouldn’t taste good and please don’t go anywhere near Three Forks because there’s a mean man there who would shoot you. We don’t want to hurt you, just go now, please bear, please you’re so beautiful and wild and your fur looks amazing considering you’ve probably been in a cave all winter long, and I really hope this isn’t your cave because all the rest of my stuff is in there and…”

  The bear lowered his head, then took a lumbering step back. Then another. Finally, as they continued to make themselves tall—he turned and loped into the trees.

  “Oh my God.” Mia collapsed against his side. “Oh my God. My heart is about to jump out of my chest.”

  “You did great. Come on.” He hurried toward the fire and snatched up the canteen and cup, then grabbed her notebook. He kicked dirt onto the embers of the campfire. “Let’s get inside before he changes his mind.”

  They dashed toward the crevice that marked the opening of the cave. He made her go first, his back prickling with awareness the entire time. What if the bear was watching from the woods? Waiting for the perfect moment to double back and pounce on them? What if the bear could climb into this cave with them?

  Once they were inside, they collapsed on the floor, hugging each other tight. Mia was half laughing, half sobbing with relief. “I swear I thought we were dead when he gave us that look like, ‘get off my lawn.’”

  He laughed, vividly remembering that exact expression on the bear’s face. “You were amazing. You did so great. One person wouldn’t have been enough to scare him off. But two of us, bam. We probably sounded like ten people with all that jabbering.”

  Mia dashed a tear away from her face. Her hand was trembling with the same adrenaline traveling through his body. He wanted to kiss her so badly he could barely stand it.

  “So you’re saying we both did the rescue this time?” She blinked another tear away. Their faces were so close together, he felt the brush of her eyelashes against his cheek.

  “Yup. Captain Bedhead and…” He paused, hoping the perfect superhero name would come to him. And it did. “Lady Lionheart.”

  6

  Lady Lionheart?

  Mia laughed out loud, then sobered when she saw that Aiden wasn’t jo
ining in. “You’re serious? That’s my superhero name?”

  “You don’t like it? Lose the lady part?”

  She giggled. “Um, no, I’m going to hold onto my lady parts, thank you very much.”

  Was he grinning? It was a little hard to tell in the cave, where they hadn’t yet lit the lantern. The only illumination came from the remaining flickers of the campfire outside, and the beam from Aiden’s headlamp, which he’d ripped off when they tumbled into the cave. “No, it’s that Lionheart sounds so brave.”

  “Well, yeah. That’s the point. I think you’re incredibly brave.”

  She peered at him closely, but saw nothing but sincerity in his face, dimly lit though it was. They were still holding each other, but the atmosphere had shifted. Neither of them were thinking about their close encounter with the bear anymore. Now the air felt charged with electricity, as if thunder was about to roll through. “Aiden.”

  “Yeah?” She heard the change in his voice. It sounded thicker, rougher, a little more raw.

  “I really like you.” Her own words took her by surprise. Of course they were true, but they weren’t the sort of thing you said to a virtual stranger. And she definitely hadn’t planned to say them.

  “I like you too, Mia. A lot. A crazy amount of a lot.”

  “Right? It’s strange, isn’t it? Do you think it’s because we met under extreme circumstances? Isn’t that what people say?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know what’s going on. I had a girlfriend until a few weeks ago. I wasn’t looking to meet someone.”

  “I had a boyfriend just this morning!” It felt so long ago that Darren had hit her across the face. “Or was that yesterday? What time do you think it is?”

  “I have no idea.” The wonder in his voice made her laugh. “Can we just say it’s after midnight so at least we can say we met yesterday?”

  “Semantics,” she teased. The rocky ground was digging into her butt and she moved to get more comfortable.

  “Here. Try this.” He stretched out on his back and spread her jacket on top of his body. Then he held out his hand to her. “You can pretend I’m a bear-skin rug.”