by Skye, Harper
“Are you laughing?”
Zach rolled onto his side and pushed himself up onto his elbow so he could see Ailsa’s face. “I’m just happy,” he said, touching her long hair that was spread out across the dark grey sheet. “If I had known how good this day was going to be, I would have been a lot happier about getting up this morning.”
He kissed her and then rolled to sit up. The muscles of his back broadened across his shoulder blades, and Ailsa caught herself watching the moving strength of him. She sat up, placing her hands gently against his back. At her touch, Zach pulled a deeper breath and turned his face back towards her. His rough cheek rubbed against her mouth.
“Want a drink?”
“Yes,” Ailsa nodded.
They pulled on their clothes, wandering through the hallway to retrieve their shirts. For a moment, Zach pulled Ailsa back against him. Standing in the kitchen he held her gently against his chest and kissed the top of her head, smoothing her light brown hair down her back. Then he turned towards the cabinets to retrieve some glasses.
“What can I get you? I’ve got beer, white wine, vodka and soda, whiskey. Or water,” he added, grinning over his shoulder at her.
“Real whiskey?” Ailsa asked, expecting the typical American answer to this question.
“In fact, I’ve got your whiskey…” Zach replied. Reaching up to a wooden cabinet he brought down a bottle that read ‘Oban’ in a script she had seen a million times back home.
“You’ve got whiskey from our distillery?!” Ailsa was unable to hide her surprise.
“I might have bought it in a fit of nostalgia and despair,” Zach said. He shrugged and Ailsa could tell there was an edge to his voice, as if he didn’t know how honest and open to be yet.
The whiskey poured like liquid gold into two small glasses. Ailsa added some water and then swirled it around in the glass, bringing it to her nose and letting herself remember home. For her, whiskey was part of being Scottish, and it was a way to remember home without remembering any of the bad stuff. She brought a sip into her mouth and let it burn a warm trail down to her belly.
“Well are you going to give me a proper tour?” She asked, looking around the open space at the center of Zach’s cabin. There were so many details she kept noticing. Small ways the wood had been bevelled into a gentle curve on the shelves by the back wall, the colors of the stone fireplace that had looked grey at first but now flashed with bits of rusty brown and white and gold.
Zach took her hand and led her round, pointing out the way the beams in the ceiling fit together, the spacing of the wood that gave the room a sense of space, so many details Ailsa would have never noticed. “And the best room…” Zach continued, dropping Ailsa’s hand and unlocking a set of French doors, “is this.”
Ailsa stepped down into a room made almost entirely of glass windows. The late evening sun was finally setting and the sky was calm and still. Gentle greys and pinks still spread their way across the sky although the sun was below the tree line. It was like stepping out into the forest. From the back of the house, the land sloped downwards and the trees began to spread out again, becoming part of the indistinguishable forest of Alaska. In the distance, mountains rose up solid and uncompromising. And above their heads, the pitched glass in the roof revealed a clear open view of the sky as twilight fell.
“Oh…” Ailsa couldn’t think of a single thing to say. It was magnificent.
“I knew you’d like it,” Zach said, stepping towards her, his whiskey still held loosely in one wide hand. “It can be hard in the winters here, but the sunroom traps a fair amount of heat and if I put a fire in the stove it stays plenty warm enough.”
Zach moved to the solid cast iron stove and knelt down, beginning to fill it with small bits of wood. He stacked them easily, almost carelessly, as if he had done it a thousand times. Ailsa watched as he picked up a piece of dark metal from the basket beside the fireplace and struck it a few times with a bright steel striker. Sparks flew out into the fireplace and kindled against a bit of cotton he had placed at the center of the pile.
“Are you lighting the fire with…flint?” Ailsa asked, laughing in disbelief.
Zach looked up smiling. “Yeah. This is the flint. This is the striker.” He shrugged. “I’ve got my little rituals around here. Sometimes the old ways are more fun.”
He nodded towards the soft tan couch, and they sat down together looking out at the trees as the land fell into semi-darkness. Ailsa leaned against the arm of the couch, and when she stretched her legs out, she felt Zach’s hands lifting her feet onto his lap. “So…” he said, looking over at her and taking a sip of his whiskey. “How’s it going…?”
Ailsa laughed. “Pretty good.”
“Seriously, that’s all you’re going to give me?” Zach furrowed his eyebrows playfully at her.
“I don’t know where to start,” Ailsa admitted. “This morning I was in Denali frustrated about my broken fiddle bow. And now I’m here drinking whiskey in this beautiful cabin with you… It’s just a bit hard to get my head around.”
“So start with what you’ve been up to this year. In Scotland. How have you been?”
Ailsa frowned. How had she been? For a minute she remembered the day she had walked through the rain on the way to work and had broken down crying on the pavement. Not for any particular reason. Just because things felt so shit. Just because she was so tired of feeling empty, so weary from just getting through each day.
“Well, I’ve been working at a bar in Glasgow…” He was watching her, listening, waiting for her to continue. But she didn’t know what to say. What could she tell him about this past year that would make any sense? There was so much more to the story. And she couldn’t bring herself to tell him the beginning that would make the rest of it make any sense. She raised the glass to her lips and took a longer sip of the whiskey, relishing the harsh burn of it.
“Ailsa.” Zach put down his glass on the side table and leaned towards her. “I don’t know much about you. And I accepted that last summer when I thought we were just having a fling. But here you are…and I don’t think that’s what this is anymore. My gut knows it. This isn’t just a fling. I want to know you. And I want you to know me.” His brown eyes looked at her with an unmistakable honesty, and Ailsa could feel the solid presence of him. It was the most beautiful way she had seen him being a man, holding a strength and vulnerability together. Offering both to her.
Ailsa gripped her glass in both hands. She could feel them slightly shaking. “I don’t know how,” she whispered looking down at her glass. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just…I think I’ve forgotten how to let someone in.” She could feel a tear pulling at the corner of her eye. “Damn it,” she cursed, brushing it away angrily.
She looked up at Zach. “Maybe you just need to get me really drunk,” she suggested, trying to lighten her tone.
“Maybe…” Zach’s eyebrows pulled together, searching her face with his brown eyes. “But…I think I’ll try something else.” He wrapped his arm behind her back and pulled her into him.
“What’s that…?”
“Well…” Zach wrapped his arm all the way around her until she was curled against his chest, her legs folded in. “I don’t think you’ve forgotten.” His voice was low and soothing like the soft darkness that had crept up around them. “I think it’s something else. And I think if you feel safe and cared for…if you know you have space, you’ll let me in in your own time.”
His words cut so close to the edge of her pain that Ailsa had to swallow a quiet sob that rose in her throat. Zach ran a wide hand over her head and down through her long wavy hair, tilting the face she had hidden until she was looking at him. “Will you give me that?” He asked. “Time? That’s all I need from you.”
She nodded because she couldn’t speak. Who was this man who wanted to do this thing for her? She didn’t deserve it. If he knew what had happened he would understand why.
“I’m not saying I won’t also get yo
u drunk,” Zach teased, lightening the tone of his voice.
“It’s going to take more than one whiskey,” Ailsa managed, smiling in spite of herself.
“Well then, let me get the bottle!” Zach laughed, easing her legs off him and standing up.
“Will you bring a bit of water,” Ailsa called after him.
“Yes ma’am,” she heard him answer with mock chivalry.
The sky had finally given way to a semi-darkness and the land had closed in around her. Ailsa watched the flames from the fire flicker through the window of the log burner. The room was warm despite the cold temperatures outside. Leaning her head back against the arm of the couch, Ailsa looked up through the glass in the ceiling to the night sky. It was just the same as it had been at the lake house. Immense. Mysterious.
Zach returned but instead of sitting on the couch, he sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the couch where she lay. Handing her a new glass of golden whiskey, he leaned his head back into the curl of her waist and they both sat looking up at the sky.
“So…Summer, huh?” Ailsa said at last, running her fingers through his light brown hair.
She heard Zach let out a low sigh that was an answer to her touch and a surrender to her accusation as well. “What can I say. Secret’s out.” Zach twisted his head to look over at her. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Ailsa admitted. “This winter was bloody awful.”
Hearing her phrasing, Zach let out a loud laugh. “Yes, bloody awful,” he repeated, and Ailsa smiled at the funny way it sounded with his American accent.
“What have you been working on?”
“In the shop?”
“Yeah, I mean, what have you been making with all your wood?”
It was getting easier. She was slowly getting used to hearing his voice again. Looking up at the night sky and talking to him reminded her of the night they had laid together last summer on the dock by the lake.
“Well, I put in some shelves at a few houses. I did a kitchen at one place. I made one of these for someone,” he gestured at the sunroom that was now full of shadows and the night sky and the orange flicker of the fire. Zach leaned over to put a few more logs in the stove.
Ailsa sipped her whiskey listening to him talk. He told her things about his life that she had never asked last summer when their futures had seemed so many thousands of miles apart. He told her the story of how he had first met Seb when Seb’s truck had skidded on ice and slid into his. That was a year after he had moved onto his land near Fairbanks, and they had gone for a beer to ease their nerves and had become instant friends.
“It’s the wood,” Ailsa said, referring to the fact that Seb and Zach were both carpenters and now shared the same workshop and often worked together on bigger jobs.
“Yeah probably,” Zach nodded. And then he shook his head. “No there’s something more to it. Seb and I, we have a shared way of seeing the world. And he’s damn good fun,” he added draining his glass.
Ailsa looked up through the glass ceiling. The soft colors edged in darkness. It was a beautiful sight. She heard a sigh escape her lips. It was so warm and comfortable here. Her head felt relaxed and slightly fuzzy from the whiskey, and it seemed like nothing much mattered but the warmth of this room and the sound of Zach’s voice and the wide open sky.
“Come down here with me.” She looked over to see Zach’s face staring towards her. His eyes were dark, and she could see a muscle flickering in his jaw.
Ailsa lifted her glass to her lips and drained the rest of the whiskey. Then she crawled down to where Zach was sitting on the rug next to the fire. “This looks like a bear skin rug,” she remarked as her hand stroked the dark fur that lay spread on top of the carpet.
“It’s not.” Zach answered, pushing the question aside as he watched Ailsa move towards him.
Ailsa could feel the warmth radiating from the fire. She felt Zach’s wide hand against her cheek, and she closed her eyes at his touch. She wanted nothing more than to let everything go. All the shit. All the past. All the memories and guilt and questions that had no answers. Just surrender to this man whose touch reminded her how good it felt to be alive, whose voice felt so solid against all her insecurities and fears, whose body moved next to hers with a strength and gentleness she had not known.
Her mouth found his and she kissed him slowly. Deeply. Wrapping herself in the slight drunkenness and trying not to think about what all this might mean. Slowly, Zach slid her shirt over her head, and she let him guide her down until she was lying engulfed in the dark fur rug. She opened her eyes, looking up into his warm rugged face that glowed in the firelight. Reaching towards him she pulled his teeshirt up over his back, letting her fingers linger along his shoulder blades, feeling the ways the wood had worked him, enjoying the way he shivered under her touch.
His mouth left hers, moving down her neck, against her earlobe. He moved slowly, propped up on one elbow, easing down the length of her body. Ailsa felt his hand at her back, and she shifted as he unhooked her bra and let her breasts fall open into the warm air and firelight. As soon as he had pulled her bra away, Zach’s mouth was at her breast. He moved as if he knew her, as if he knew just where to press, just where to linger. Her whole body had begun to tingle as her hands explored his chest, the hard muscles of his shoulders and arms that moved under his skin as he shifted his weight over her.
She felt him tug at the button of her jeans, and Ailsa closed her eyes, falling into a place where nothing existed except her and Zach. The cabin was gone. The fire was gone. She floated in space, aware of every slight movement of his body. His hand slipped below her waist and a moan rose up in Ailsa’s throat as she felt him move between her legs. She could feel the hot wetness surrounding his finger as it moved inside her, drawing her slowly towards ecstasy.
For a moment, his hand disappeared and Ailsa opened her eyes to see him sliding her jeans off her legs, running his wide hands up over her knees and thighs. She tried to pull him toward her, but even a strong pull didn’t budge him where he knelt over her, and Ailsa realized how strong he must be though he had rarely showed it.
“Zach…” she whispered, and he came to her then, meeting her open mouth with equal hunger. She felt him again reaching between her legs, finding her clit, stroking it until she was wet and whimpering with pleasure.
“Zach.” Her voice was stronger, forcing him against her mouth again. Her tongue poured into his mouth asking him to take her.
“Not yet,” she heard him whisper against her ear. His face grazed against her cheek. “I want you, Ailsa. And I want you to feel me inside of you.” His breath was heaving in his chest, and Ailsa could feel the yearning in him. She reached down and took the hard bulge in her hand. Immediately the pressure against her clit increased and she moaned and arched her back.
“I want to hold you in my arms,” Zach breathed as she clawed at his back and fisted the edge of the fur rug over her head. “I want you to know you are safe.” His mouth crushed against hers. “I want to be the man who holds you while you come apart.” His tongue pressed against hers and his finger slid across her clit and so deep inside her Ailsa cried out.
A moment later he had shaken off his pants and pulled on the condom and brought himself inside of her. His cock filled her and he began to move and the ecstasy of his body churned inside her and poured out of her as she cried out. She could feel him watching her, listening to the noises that fell out of her, setting his rhythm by these signs.
And then she felt the climax take her and she couldn’t cry out and she couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t think. She could feel Zach shuddering against her as the waves of her climax rippled up into the deepest part of her. Everything disappeared except the feeling of them. She gasped for breath, silent, letting herself fall apart in his arms.
He lay against her for a long time, his breathing finally slowing. Twice he shifted his weight on his elbows so he wouldn’t crush her, but he didn’t move, didn’t re
lease her from his embrace, and she didn’t try to leave.
After awhile she could feel sleep creeping up around her. Ailsa shifted and saw the fire had died low. “Are you asleep,” she whispered against Zach’s ear.
“No, but I’m about to be.” He rolled off her onto his side and then buried his face in her hair and kissed the side of her face and then her mouth and then the tip of her nose. “Can I take you to bed?” He asked gently.
“Yes.”
“I’m assuming I don’t need to make up the guest room.”
Ailsa shook her head giving him a rueful smile. “No I don’t think so.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” And without waiting for her to sit up, he scooped one arm under her knees and the other under her back and lifted her up against his chest.
“Wait,” Ailsa protested, surprised and beginning to laugh. “You don’t have to carry me. I don’t even have my clothes!” She made a half-hearted attempt at struggle and then gave up.
“Yes I take full credit for that,” Zach said grinning down at her as he stepped through the open doors into the living room and then down the dark hall to his bedroom. He laid her on his bed and wrapped her in a blanket and then crawled in beside her. She eased against him, lacing her thin legs between his heavy ones and nestling her head into the crook of his arm.
“This is nice,” she murmured, feeling a heavy sleepiness falling across her mind like a blanket.
“More than nice,” Zach agreed, his voice also muffled with sleep. And then she heard him sigh, a long breath that came from deep inside him as if something he had been holding there had finally found its way free.
Chapter 15
Ailsa rolled over and cracked her eyes. The room around her was brighter than she had expected. Somewhere she could hear water running. She rolled over and realized the bed next to her was empty. A glass of water stood on the small side table, and she reached for it gratefully, letting the water run cool down her throat. Then she lay back against the pillow, reaching her toes down through the pocket of warmth beneath the blankets, stretching.