by Mara Jacobs
He got in his truck, and pulled onto the highway that led back into Houghton. Deni’s car was within sight. He kept his eyes on it, the ache that he’d felt each night when he left the office—and her—returning once again.
When he got to Agate Street, where he should have turned to go get Lucy from Huck’s, he kept going. Through Houghton and across the bridge, taking a right at Bob’s Mobil and heading up the hill into East End.
Ahead of him, Deni made the last turn onto her street and disappeared.
Keep going, don’t turn, don’t turn, don’t turn. Go back to Houghton.
The sheer strength of the urge he felt to follow her shocked him. He hadn’t felt anything this strong, this desperate, in…God, years and years. He turned.
She lived in one of the older homes that were built into the hill. You parked in back and then walked down steep steps to get to the house. She’d already exited her street-level garage and had made her way down the stairs when he pulled up to her house.
“Deni, wait,” he shouted as he got out of his truck. She whirled from putting her key in the door, startled.
“Sawyer? What’s wrong?” She must have sensed his urgency, which wasn’t hard since he was racing down the steps, losing his footing on the snow-covered incline. He righted himself and nearly sprinted to her.
“What is it? Is it Lucy?”
He shook his head. He couldn’t explain it to her. Hell, he couldn’t explain it to himself. “Just…this,” he whispered to her, then held her head in his hands as he kissed her.
Hard, and yet softly. He wanted to devour her and also gently taste. He needed to own her but to share what he was feeling for her.
Except he couldn’t explain it—let alone share it. So he kept his mouth fused to hers, tangling with her tongue, tasting the coffee and sweet Amaretto of the tiramisu she’d had for dessert.
Her arms wrapped around him and a soft sigh escaped her mouth, floating against his cheek, warming him. His hands moved from her face to her nape, holding her in place as he tilted his head, wanting more. The leather of her gloves felt foreign on his neck…but he liked it. Liked everything about how well their bodies fit together, even through the many layers of warm clothing and coats.
“Come inside,” she whispered between kisses, and then swept her tongue back to his mouth, searching for his. She started to step back, toward her door, pulling him with her.
And, dear God, he wanted to go inside with her. But he stopped. Stopped this kiss. Stilled his hands and just laid his forehead against her.
“Wait,” he said, catching his breath. He didn’t look at her, just kept his eyes closed and forged on. “I’m going to explain this badly, so please bear with me. Sometimes I get these…visions in my head.”
She pulled away, and he opened his eyes to see her studying him. “Like…psychic visions?”
“No, not like that. Like visions of what could be. Like at a building site. I can see the final thing in my head…like seeing the rendering.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, I get those, too.”
He nodded. He guessed most engineers and architects did. Hell, maybe everybody did.
“And…I have this very clear…vision of where we’ll be the first time…we’re together.”
“So you want to wait?” If there had been incredulity or petulance or anything like that in her voice, he would have brushed his stupid ideas of their first time aside and grabbed the keys from her hand and had that door unlocked and them inside in no time.
But there wasn’t. There was understanding and what sounded like anticipation. But it was the understanding that clinched it for him. “Yes. I want to say good night and pick you up tomorrow morning at nine like we planned.”
She didn’t say “Then why the hell did you follow me home?” which was kind of what he was thinking.
“I just…wanted to kiss you good night,” he said to the unspoken question.
She smiled and the little dimple appeared. “I’m glad you did,” she said softly. Then she turned around, let herself into her house, and shut the door behind her.
Chapter Fourteen
A common mistake that people make when trying to design something completely foolproof is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools.
~ Douglas Adams
Sawyer ended up crashing in Huck’s guest room. And even though there was a fresh pot of coffee made, water in Lucy’s dish, and Sawyer was sure he hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours, there was no Huck when he woke up in the morning.
He knew that after ten years of basically checking out on his family he had no right to start playing concerned big brother now. But should he be concerned about Huck?
He left his brother a thank-you note, filled two travel cups with coffee, and started out with Lucy. He went to Pat’s IGA and stocked up on easily transportable food and a good bottle of wine. Then it was time to pick up Deni.
She must have been waiting for him, because he had no sooner pulled his truck over than she was out the door, a backpack slung over her shoulder.
He got out and opened the passenger door for her. “Morning,” she said as she breezed past him and stepped up into the truck.
“Morning,” he answered, taking her backpack and putting it on the floor of the backseat, giving Lucy something new to sniff.
“Hey, girl,” she said to his dog as he shut the door and walked back to his side. By the time he was seated, Deni was halfway over the backseat giving Lucy a belly rub. Much as he would love to look at Deni’s ass for the entire trip, he put the truck in gear, which caused her to turn around and buckle up. He motioned to the two coffee cups. She picked one up and took a long drag of what was now probably lukewarm coffee.
“So, where are you taking me?” she asked, setting the cup back in the holder.
“In general terms, Copper Harbor,” he answered. He drove them out of East End, up White Street, and then turned right, heading to Calumet and ultimately the Harbor.
“And in specific terms?”
“A very remote piece of property that I own.”
“We’re not camping, are we? At this time of year?”
“Plenty of people winter camp.”
“Yes, but I’m not one of them.”
“I didn’t picture you as the high-maintenance type,” he teased. He stole a glance her way and saw she was smiling.
“I’m not. But that doesn’t mean I want to be in a tent and sleeping bag when it gets down to ten below zero.”
“What if I said I’d keep you warm?”
She laughed at that. “I’d say that was very romantic, but I still want a mattress, heavy comforter, and furnace.”
“How about a mattress, heavy comforter, and a roaring fire.”
“Walls? And a roof?”
“Yep.”
“Sold,” she said, and gave him a brilliant smile as she reached for her coffee.
He stepped on the gas.
They rode in silence, Lucy’s occasional sighs the only sound. This was fine with Deni, she’d never been one who needed to have silence filled. Besides, their silence was a comfortable one, neither feeling the need to talk for talking’s sake. And it wasn’t awkward at all, even if a sense of…anticipation hung in the air.
When they got to the point where you could turn off to go the longer route, or stay on the shorter one, Sawyer put his blinker on and made the turn.
“You did say Copper Harbor, right? Not Eagle Harbor?”
“Yeah, Copper Harbor. Beyond Copper Harbor, actually.”
“And you’re taking this route instead of Covered Drive?”
“I didn’t know you knew your way around up here so well. Do you get up to the harbors much?”
“Not a lot, no. Not as much as I’d like. It’s beautiful up here.” Lucy let out a soft snort, as if agreeing with her. “I usually get up once or twice during the summer. And I try to get up during color season. When I do, though, I tend to take Covered Drive up and then go through Eag
le Harbor on the way back.”
“That’s a good route. I just thought this way would be prettier for you. Covered Drive isn’t as great this time of year with no leaves. Without that, it’s just a twisty road—not always the best for winter driving.”
Something about the way he said the last part put Deni on alert. If this were to be just the beginning of something lovely, but short—a snack, as she’d said—she would have just let it go and sit back to enjoy the ride.
But instead she asked, “Is that where your wife’s accident happened? On Covered Drive?”
For a moment he didn’t answer her, and she thought maybe it was too soon for those types of talks. Then slowly, he nodded his head, his hands tightening on the wheel.
“Yes. And it’s not like I’ve never been on it since. It’s just I prefer to go this way if I have the time.”
She was glad he’d answered her, but she could tell he didn’t want to talk about it, so she didn’t push.
“And we have the time today,” she said. “And Eagle Harbor is so pretty. I don’t think I’ve ever been up here this deep into winter. I’ll bet it’s gorgeous in a different way.”
He smiled at her, with gratitude for the changed subject, it seemed.
“It has its own kind of beauty. The snow and ice, the stillness of it all. It might be my favorite time of year up here.”
“That’s because there’s no one up here now. No tourists, no seasonal workers. Perfect for a hermit.”
“Geez. Enough with the hermit thing, please,” he said, but in a good-natured way.
“I think it’s kind of cool. I’ve never dated a hermit before.”
“The non-hermits you’ve dated before? Anyone special?”
Part of the conversation seemed so normal—a new couple doing the “get to know you,” “tell me a little about your past” conversation. And yet, she was teasing him about being a hermit, and he was going out of their way not to drive by the site of his wife’s death.
So, not normal new couple stuff.
“Not anyone really special, no. I had a boyfriend my last two years at Tech. And we tried the long-distance thing for a while after graduation. It was hard, though, and we didn’t feel that what we had was worth…fighting for, I guess.”
“Where’d he live?”
“He got on with GM.”
“And you had no desire to move back to your hometown area?”
They were making the turn into Eagle Harbor now. The beach was deserted, and the harbor itself was frozen over up to the point where it joined Lake Superior.
“No, I really wanted to stay up here.”
“Not the greatest career move,” he said, but he got it.
“Nope, but I’m okay with that. I get to work on some really interesting projects. They’re all different, and many of them involve restoration of original structures. I like that. And I love the Copper Country.”
He just nodded.
“Besides, you’re not really one to talk about making great career moves, Mr. Hermit.”
He laughed. “You’ve got me there.”
“How has it been for you the past week and a half coming out of your cave?”
“Cave?”
“Shack? Fortress of Solitude?”
He snorted at that, then after a moment answered. “It’s been okay. Better than I thought, actually.”
He looked over at her and flashed a grin, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “Besides, there’s been a nice perk.”
Dear lord, she wanted him to pull off the road so she could straddle his lap like she’d done in Iron Mountain. Only this time without all these pesky clothes in the way. She just smiled and said, “How much farther?”
He laughed and said, “Too damn far.”
They passed through Copper Harbor and then drove on, past Fort Wilkins. Deni shared the story of Caleb climbing on the cannon when she was eight.
“Did you come up every summer when you were a kid?”
“No, that was the last one until the summer after my junior year in high school. I came up for the Women in Engineering summer program to see if I’d like it.”
“And obviously you did.”
“Yes. I thought maybe it would just be nostalgia, or some kind of legacy thing because my father went to Tech. I figured that once I got back up here, I’d realize it was too far away or too remote and would cross it off my college list.”
“But you didn’t cross it off.”
“No, it moved to the top of my list. Much to my mother’s chagrin.”
“She didn’t want you that far away?”
“No. I’m the baby, and Caleb and Josh were gone by then. She wasn’t really keen about the looming empty nest, and it wouldn’t be like I could just pop home for a weekend being ten hours away.”
“I heard you say something to Petey about bitching about your mom to Alison…”
She waved that away. “Yeah, she’s been a little…much…lately. She’s…concerned about me, and that tends to come across as smothering. It was really bad for the first few years after my father died, but then she eased up. But lately…” She didn’t continue. There were two reasons Deni felt her mother had become a tad overbearing lately—she knew about Deni’s SAD and was understandably worried, and the last of Deni’s single hometown friends was getting married this summer and Deni was still single with no prospects.
Which didn’t bother Deni in the least, but she still kept both those factors to herself. She didn’t want Sawyer to think she was husband hunting. Just because she wanted more than a few hook-ups, didn’t mean she was trolling jewelry stores and checking out rings.
“She started dating again,” she said. “My mom. And I think it’s great, but she’s a little freaked about it all. So the calls and emails have ratcheted up in the past year.” All true, if not the whole truth.
“Moms dating. It’s a different kind of hell,” he said.
“Yours too? Is your father living?”
He nodded. “Living, yes. But he hasn’t been in the picture since we were in high school. He was a Tech student who loved the area, married a local girl, and stayed. But it got too much for him, and he wanted to move south. Mom didn’t want to leave, and the marriage was pretty shaky by then anyway, so he moved and we stayed.”
“Did you see him much?”
“A little at first. Longer holiday breaks and a few weeks over the summer. I only had a year left of high school, so I didn’t go down for the summers like Twain and Huck did. I lived on campus at Tech, so it didn’t feel that much different for me. It affected Huck most of all, being the youngest.”
“And now?”
He shrugged. “Oddly enough, my mom ended up moving after all. She fell for a guy who was up here on a fishing trip with buddies, and moved out east with him. That was about eleven or twelve years ago.
“It’s nice that she’s happy and everything, but when they started dating it was just…so weird, you know?”
“Yeah, I know,” she said, taking her eyes from him and looking out the window.
They were farther north than Deni had ever been before. “I didn’t know this road even went this far up.”
“Oh yeah, all the way to the tip. But we’re not going that far.” As if to prove his point, he turned left on to a snow-covered road, which, gauging by the tread marks and new snow in between, hadn’t been driven on in a few weeks.
“Will your truck make this road?”
“Not all the way in, no. But we only need to make it”—he took a wide curve and a pole barn came into view—“this far.” He reached up to the visor and pushed a button on a remote, and the garage door, which took up half of one side of the large building, opened.
“This place has a mattress, a comforter and a roaring fire?” she asked as he pulled the truck inside.
“Nope, not this place. This place holds the transportation to the next place.” He pointed to the snowmobile parked to one side of the huge structure.
�
�We’re going on that?”
“You’ve never been on one? And you’ve been up here how many years?”
“Ten, if you count my years at Tech.”
“And you haven’t been on a snowmobile?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure, no.”
“Well, there is another way.” He pointed to several pairs of snowshoes lined up against the wall.
Normally she’d love to go snowshoeing, but she hadn’t had much exercise this year—opting to stay home in bed in the evenings and on weekends. And the thought of falling in a snow bank, overcome with exhaustion, put a damper on the whole “getting naked and sexy with Sawyer” thing.
“I’ll try the snowmobile.”
“Atta girl. Besides, it’s not very far. It’s just terrain that can’t be driven by truck. It’s a beautiful hike in the summertime.”
By her estimation, they were about two miles from the end of the earth—so, yeah, it probably wouldn’t be a long ride.
They left the truck, and Sawyer took some grocery bags and walked over to the snowmobile. Lucy bounded outside and quickly found a spot to make the snow yellow.
“I’m going to take Lucy up first and then come back for you,” Sawyer said as he started transferring things from the grocery bags to a sturdy duffle that he took down from a shelf. “If I take you first, she’ll try to follow us, and the snow’s too deep for her. I could put her in the truck, I guess—”
“No, it’s fine. Take her up first, but how…” Her voice trailed off as Sawyer pulled some sort of harness from another shelf and started strapping it on to the machine. Lucy knew what he was doing and started barking with excitement, butting her head against Sawyer’s back as he knelt at the machine.
“Hang on, girl, give me a second.” When he finished, he stood up and took a step back. Lucy jumped up on the leather seat in a position she was obviously used to.
Deni stepped forward and started to examine the harness and straps while Sawyer fastened them around his dog.
“Did you make this?”
“Yep.”
“Did you design it?”