SHIVER

by Tiffinie Helmer

  He looked deep into her eyes. “We like the same kind of sandwich.”

  “A lot of people like Reubens. That doesn’t mean they’re related,” she scoffed, while inside she was screaming.

  He stared deep into her eyes, searching. “Are you sure?”

  She glanced away. She’d never lied to Aidan before. They’d promised to always tell each other the truth. Always. It had been a huge thing with Aidan as his parents had lied constantly to each other and to him. But she’d made that promise when they’d been young and stupid. Adults sometimes lied to protect those they cared about. That was all she was doing. Protecting Fox. “When you left, I slept with a man I met in a bar. Call it a rebound.” She studied her feet. “I never saw him again.”

  He shook her once, making her look at him. “Is that what you’ve told Fox? That his dad was a one-night-stand and you didn’t have the sense to get his name and number after you fucked him?”

  She caught her breath and pushed out of his grip. He fell onto the bed, off balance. “Why do you care?” she demanded.

  He stood back up. “Why do I care? You were everything to me, Raven. I loved you. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. And you knew it. Why else would I have left you when it was the last thing in the world I ever wanted to do?”

  It hurt to breathe. Her heart raced, and the room seemed to be closing in on her. “I gotta go.”

  “Damn it, Raven.” Aidan grabbed her again and yanked her into this arms. His eyes—hurt and troubled—stared into hers.

  She knew he wanted to say something else, but then his tortured gaze fell to her lips. He groaned and crushed his mouth to hers. She whimpered, a little with fear, a little with excitement, and a lot with need. His arms came around her, squeezing her to his chest like he was afraid she’d slip away. She tasted desperation but didn’t know if was his or hers, and the sweet, sweet taste of memories of what could have been. Her arms stretched of their own accord. Her body began doing things she didn’t want it to do. Like rubbing against him, arching into his erection, cradling it with her heat. He groaned and swiveled on his one good leg until the back of her legs were against the bed. Then he lowered her down to the mattress.

  His hot hands tunneled under her shirt, right to her aching breasts. Her nipples hardened making them ache even more. He tore his mouth from hers and his eyes bored into the depths of hers. “God, I’ve missed you.”

  He kissed her again, his fingers undoing the clasp of her bra, freeing her breasts to his searching hands. She hadn’t been touched like this in so long. There had been a few fumbles since Aidan, but none of them had been him. He’d spoiled her for any other man. The way he’d worshipped her body, made her feel like she was everything. Tears leaked from her closed lids. She wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him.

  Aidan pushed his leg between hers, spreading them wide for him to settle his erection at the heart of her, rubbing against her, making her moan, arch, and writhe under him. His hand reached between them, releasing the button to her jeans. She sucked in her stomach as his fingers trailed down. She needed to stop him. Needed to stop herself. Somehow he’d lost his shirt, and her hands kneaded the hard, strong muscles there.

  His fingers trailed fire as they caressed her tattoo. “Raven, let me make you fly.”

  A sob hit her at his words. “No.” She pushed at his immovable chest. His broad shoulders blocked out the light, keeping her cocooned within the power of his arms. What she wouldn’t give to stay here within their promised protection. Life alone was hard and lonely. But she couldn’t betray her father’s memory by loving the son of his murderer. She pushed against his chest again, harder. “No, Aidan.”

  He stopped, his hands on her hips, fingers digging in, ready to strip her of the remainder of her clothing. His breathing was hard, like the rest of him. She wanted what his dark, smoldering eyes promised. Wanted him to send her flying. She’d flown solo all these years. And solo was a lonely flight.

  “You want me, Raven,” he said, his voice strained.

  “Yes, but I can’t have you.”

  Raven entered the kitchen on shaky legs and headed toward the back door. She reached for her coat but didn’t put it on. The cold would do her good. Maybe she’d even take a minute to lie in the snow and snuff out the flames licking her body.

  “Are you going home?”

  Raven yelped and swung toward her mother’s voice. With all that was in her head and the unfulfilled yearning in her body, she hadn’t noticed anyone in the kitchen. Fiona sat at the table going over a list—she was famous for her list making—while nursing a cup of tea.

  “Yes. Aidan will be fine on his own tonight.” If he felt well enough to engage in the type of activity that they had been engaging in, he was well enough to take care of himself.

  “Do you think that’s wise?” Fiona lifted a brow.

  Very wise. “He doesn’t have a fever, he’s mobile and he’s an adult. And besides, I’m not his keeper.” Why was Fiona giving her that look? The one that said she was in trouble. Did her mother know what she and Aidan had been doing? Was it painted on her face? Fiona always seemed to know whatever her kids had been up to. She would have caught on sooner with what Aidan and Raven had been up to twelve years ago if she and her dad hadn’t been fighting a land claim with Earl Harte. “Is there something wrong, Mom?”

  “Actually, yes. Have a seat, daughter. I need to talk with you.”

  Raven sat. Her mother sounded serious. Had something else happened?

  Fiona flexed her hands around her mug. “I know who Fox’s father is. I’ve always known.”

  Raven gasped.

  Fiona continued, “I’ve been content not to say anything while Earl was alive. But he’s dead. It’s no longer an issue to keep Fox’s parentage a secret. I understand why you did what you did, but Aidan deserves to know he has a son. He should have known all along.”

  “How…” Raven tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. Her mother knew? Had always known?

  “I can do the math. I know you said you’d met a man at party, but it didn’t add up. You were already pregnant before you started college. The only man you ever had stars in your eyes for has been Aidan Harte. You and he were thick as willow branches that summer your dad died. I understand why you lied, and at the time I agreed. If Earl had found out he had a grandchild, who knows how this would have all turned out. But that’s the past. You need to make things right.”

  “I can’t let Aidan know.” She shook her head. “And what will Fox say? He’ll hate me.”

  “No, he won’t. That boy loves you. He might be angry, but he’ll come around.”

  “Aidan could take Fox away, have you thought of that?”

  “Yes. But I don’t think he would do that. I think Fox will benefit the most with having two parents.”

  “I don’t want Fox having anything to do with Aidan or the people he comes from.”

  “You raised him to be a fine young man. Have faith, my daughter.” She drank from her tea and set the empty cup down. “Besides, the longer Aidan stays here, the better chance the truth will come out. I am not the only one who will see the resemblance.”

  “What resemblance? Just because they each have dark hair and eyes doesn’t make them look alike.”

  “Watch them smile. They each have the same dimple in their left cheek.” Fiona gave her a measuring look. “I won’t be the only who will notice.”

  Reuben sandwiches and now dimples. What else?

  “It’s the right thing to do, Raven.” Fiona stood and laid her hand on Raven’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Put it right in your mind. You were never one to act rashly. But don’t take too long. I’d hate to have someone else spill the news to Aidan.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Aidan woke the next morning after a fitful night. His leg felt better, but the rest of him didn’t. One place in particular ached like a son of a bitch. He could still smell Raven in his room, feel her with his eyes closed. He’d
never hoped where she was concerned before. But last night had changed all that. Raven still cared about him. Still desired him. Those were things he could work with. Use them to get her to see past what his father had done to hers. Somehow he needed to make it right. He had no clue where to start, but lying in bed wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

  It was dark, though his internal clock told him it was morning. He reached for his crutches, already looking forward to throwing them away. He stood, and with the crutches under his arms, gradually applied weight onto his bad leg. It was painful but not excruciating.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Eva asked.

  Aidan had been concentrating so hard, he hadn’t heard anyone come into the room.

  “Don’t be standing on that leg until it’s been x-rayed.” Eva walked over to him and swatted him on the arm. “Don’t mess with my orders. I’m very pregnant, very moody, and very capable of carrying out my threats. We understand each other?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The little powerhouse scared the shit out of him. How did Lynx live with her? Lynx had always been easygoing, willing to try anything no matter how dangerous or stupid it sounded. If there was fun to be had, you’d find Lynx in the middle of it.

  “Sit down. Let me check your vitals.” Eva pushed him onto the edge of the bed. A blood pressure cuff was strapped to his arm and she pumped up the pressure. The woman was efficient. She had his blood pressure read, his temp jotted down, and the dressing changed on his leg before he’d worked up the nerve to ask her a question.

  “Have you seen Raven this morning?”

  “She’s arguing with Lynx.” Eva finished with the bandages, straightened, and rubbed the small of her back. “They’re fighting over who has to take you Fairbanks. The roads have been cleared.”

  He frowned. “I thought that was already decided. Wasn’t Lynx saddled with the chore?”

  “Yep, that’s Raven’s argument. But Lynx has been called out on an injured eagle run.”

  “Injured eagle?” Sounded like a wild goose chase to him.

  “Apparently there was an incident involving beer, snow machines, and jumps. An eagle got in the way.”

  “Well, I’ll get ready to go with whoever loses. You got anything else for me to wear besides Lynx’s Bermuda shorts?”

  “Yes. You should find what you need in that bag.” She indicated a duffel by the dresser. “I’ll need to find you something to put over your foot, too. I don’t think you should try putting your foot into a shoe until the swelling has gone down. You’ll be grateful to know that I saved your boots.”

  He was, since they were expensive, the kind of boots he only needed to buy once a decade or so. “Thanks, I’m appreciative. And for more than saving my boots.”

  She tilted her head and looked at him. “I think you can be a real sweetie when you want to be. No wonder Raven seems nervous.”

  He smiled. He could learn to like this little dynamo.

  “I’ll let the battling siblings know you’re on your way.”

  “Thanks, Eva.” He hobbled toward the bathroom. As soon as he heard the door close, he tried putting weight on his injured foot again. It took it, screamed while it did, but it was bearable in small doses. He quickly washed his face, sponged bathed what he could, dressed in Lynx’s jeans and t-shirt, and strapped on his own boot. At least one foot was covered. The weather outside was clear, which meant beautiful and wicked cold. He made his way down the hall to the main meeting room. His heart pumped faster at the prospect of seeing Raven.

  “There’s something’s more than fowl about this whole thing, Lynx,” Raven hollered as Lynx finger-waved while escaping out the door. Raven stomped her foot, obviously losing the argument over driving him to Fairbanks.

  “Morning, Raven,” Aidan greeted, smiling when she jumped and swiveled around. Her cheeks flushed.

  Was she blushing because he’d caught her stomping her foot, or because she was nervous over seeing him after the position they’d been in last night? If she hadn’t called a halt to their activity, they would have woken up together. And if he’d done his job well, she’d be more than happy to take him to Fairbanks.

  “If I have to go to Fairbanks, then I’m killing two birds with one stone.”

  “Okay?” He didn’t know what she meant, but okay. All he knew was that he was getting to spend the day with her, alone. Granted in a car, and not a bed, but alone. “Let’s get going, then. Early bird catches the worm.”

  “What?” She narrowed her eyes.

  He shrugged. “There seemed to be a lot of bird analogies flying about. Thought I’d add another.”

  Her lips twitched. It wasn’t quite a smile, but he’d take it. “This whole situation is for the birds.”

  That’s the girl he remembered.

  Fiona stuck her head into the room from the kitchen. “You two aren’t going anywhere until that man gets something to eat. Come on, I’ve made breakfast.”

  “But, Mom,” Raven objected. “I’ve got to hurry and get back.”

  “You have time for breakfast.” She motioned for them to enter the kitchen. Fiona was a stronger force, and besides, he was starving.

  Eva sat at the table already eating a plate piled high with home-style hash browns, covered with eggs, grated cheese, chopped green peppers, and bits of ham. His mouth watered. He hobbled to the table and took a seat, ready to dive in.

  “I’ve already eaten,” Raven said, walking to the back door, grabbing her coat off the hook. “Since I’ve got to head to Fairbanks—your husband’s a deadbeat, Eva—I’m taking a load with me. Mom, if there’s anything you need me to pick up, get it written down.”

  “I already have a list.” Fiona held up a piece of paper.

  “Of course you do,” Raven said. “Aidan, I’ll be back by the time you’re done eating.”

  “Need any help?” he asked.

  “Yes, but you’re in no shape.” Raven left, shutting the door behind her.

  “What kind of load?”

  “Pottery,” Fiona said. “Tern sells Raven’s pottery. Don’t worry about Raven. She’s taken care of herself for years. She just likes to make noise.” Fiona took a seat and served him up a plate.

  “But what if she really needs help? Pottery is heavy.”

  “If she can’t do it herself, she’ll give her Uncle Pike a call.”

  Eva tossed a ski mask across the table at Aidan. “Put this over your foot. It’s the best I could think of to keep your toes from getting frostbitten. I also called the doctor and got you an appointment. Here are the particulars.” She handed him a piece of paper.

  “Thanks, Eva.”

  She grunted around another mouthful. How did someone so small eat so much? He watched her polish off a full plate and then fill it up with a huge cinnamon roll. Was she only eating for two?

  “Did you sleep all right, Aidan?” Fiona asked.

  “Fine, thanks. The lodge is very comfortable.”

  “What are your plans?”

  “I need to go through Earl’s things and—according to his will—spread his ashes over the gold claim.”

  “It’ll be hard getting to Trapper’s Creek this time of year. You’ll need a snow machine and good weather to make it safely through the pass. Promise me you won’t attempt it alone.”

  Who was he going to get to accompany him? No one in this town would want to attend the sprinkling of Earl Harte’s ashes. But he nodded. He ate and then covered his foot with the ski mask Eva had found and was waiting in the main room for Raven when she pulled up in a big black Suburban. A mean, tough-looking gas hog.

  He wished he could drive it.

  Aidan met her on the wooden covered porch. The sun had started to rise, a faint peach blush in the east, casting the hills in dark shadows. The snow had blanketed everything in big white puffy shapes. Limbs drooped, heavy with snow. It looked like a fairytale Christmas card. The sky was a dark blue that would lighten with the sun until the combination of white-covered landscape and br
ight blue sky hurt the eyes to look at it. His sunglasses were in his rental. He’d had his wallet in the pocket of his coat. Eva had saved it from his jean pocket before tossing out the pants she’d cut off of him.

  He knew he looked a sight, one leg in a hiking boot, the other covered in a ski mask. But this being Alaska, nobody would look twice at his crazy get-up. He hobbled to the end of the porch, looking at the slick ice and snow gleaming over the parking lot. While he’d put pressure on his bad leg, he didn’t want to slip and come down hard on it.

  Raven jumped out of the Suburban, jogged around to the passenger door and opened it. She parked so that he wouldn’t have to walk far. But it was still ten feet or more. She approached and took his arm to help steady him on the ice-covered ground.

  “Just take it slow. We aren’t in any hurry.”

  He raised a brow. “What about you saying you had to get back early? That you had a lot to do?”

  “I always have more to do than I can get done. Doesn’t mean that you have to hurry. Chances are if you push it, we’ll both end up on our butts, and this will take longer.”

  She had a point. They reached the Suburban. “Nice rig,” he said admiring the leather seats.

  “I like it.” She held his crutches while he grabbed the handle above his head and stepped on the running boards to propel himself onto the seat. The seat was heated. And she had turned it on for him. Heaven.

  Raven opened the back door. He glanced behind him to see the seats down and the back of the Suburban filled with boxes. She placed the crutches to the side, shut the door, and walked around to the driver’s side, and got in. She clicked her seatbelt in place and looked at him. “Ready to fly this coop?”

  He smiled. “As the crow flies, or should I say raven?” That must have hit too close to what he’d said last night, because her expression shut down. She turned her attention to the road as she put the SUV in gear, the four-wheel drive already engaged.

  “I think we’ve exhausted the bird clichés.” She turned onto the Steese Highway, which would take them past Fox, another gold mining town, and then into Fairbanks. Though the trek was only thirty miles, it would take them at least an hour or more with the road conditions. The Steese wasn’t known for a smooth, pleasant drive. The road was plagued with frost heaves that changed yearly due to the freeze and thaw of the permafrost under the asphalt. The posted speed limit was fifty, but you were crazy to travel at such high speeds in the winter. Those who did usually ended up in the ditch, crashed into a tree, or plowing into a wayward moose.