by Katy Regnery
“Cody!” I scream. “Get off him! Get off him!”
I’m pulling at Cody, who clenches his wiry legs tighter around Glenn’s body. With every hit that lands on Glenn’s face, Cody bellows.
“Don’t...You...Ever...Speak...To...Her...Like...That...Again!”
“Cody! Stop!” I yank at his hood hard, probably choking him. “Please, stop!”
“You piece...of shit!” Cody yells, spitting into Glenn’s bloody face before standing up and walking away. Over his shoulder he yells, “Get him outta here...Jules!”
Glenn rolls into fetal position on his side and sobs.
I leave him crying on the driveway and hustle inside, where my charged phone is sitting on my bedside table. I call a local cab company, then head back outside to find Glenn sitting up in the middle of the snowy, gravel driveway, knees bent, face bleeding.
“He’s a fucking...animal, Juliet,” he moans.
I put my hands on my hips. “You provoked him.”
“I’ll have him arrested,” he says.
“The fuck you will, Glenn. He’s a decorated Marine. You were trespassing on private property with an intent to stir up trouble. And I’m happy to give that exact account to the sheriff.”
“Bitch,” he growls softly, tilting his head back. “I think he broke my nose.”
I shrug. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
“Did you not hear me?” he screams. “My nose...is broken!”
“I heard you.” I force myself not to smile at his pity party for one. “If you want, the cab can take you to the hospital before the airport. They can set your nose.”
I sit on the porch behind him, listening to him whine and complain, and thank God when the cab finally pulls up.
“Do you need help getting up?” I ask.
“Get the fuck away from me,” he growls, shifting to all fours before standing up. “I better not see you again. Stay away from me when you get back to in Minneapolis.”
“With pleasure,” I tell him. I can’t help adding in a singsong voice: “Get home safely, now.”
“Fuck you, Jules,” he says, pulling the door shut, but opening the window to add: “Fuck you very much.”
***
Cody
Holy shit.
I can’t remember a time I was ever as pissed off as I was when that asshole said “Fuck you” to my girl. I saw red. I saw white. Then I didn’t see anything. I barreled into that fucker and kept hitting until my parka zipper started chafing my neck and I realized that Juliet was physically trying to pull me off of him.
I have no idea what damage I was able to inflict, but I hope it was enough for him to remember his manners the next time he’s around a lady.
“Motherfucker!” I yell at the top of my lungs.
I’ve taken a short hike into the woods behind my house to cool off, but now it’s time to go back. I’m sure Juliet is angry with me for losing my cool, and God only knows if that pretentious fucking asshole is gearing up to go into town and press charges for assault. Great. Fantastic. Know what? I don’t fucking care. I’ll pay a fine. I’ll even spend a few nights in jail. It was worth it to teach that arrogant fuck a lesson he had coming.
Oh, and another thing?
I’m going home with Juliet for Christmas.
I saw her face when I said no, and it looked crushed. Well, leave it to guys like Steinbuck to disappoint a girl like her. I’m better than that. I can do better than that, be better than that. I love her, and when you love someone, you don’t say no if there’s the slimmest chance you can say yes. Even if it’s inconvenient. Even if it doesn’t always make sense. Love isn’t just in what you say...it’s also in what you do.
She wants me to go home with her for Christmas? Fine. I’ll go home with her. For four days, the dogs can exercise on their own in the pasture instead of racing. We’ll race them harder than ever when we come home.
Yeah, it’ll be a big favor to ask from Jonas and Rita, but maybe they’ll consider staying out here at my place for a few days. Or maybe I can get Mitch to do it if I pay him a little something. Don’t college kids always need extra cash? Whatever it takes, I’ll make it work. I’ll be sitting next to her on a plane to Missoula come December twenty-third and that’s that.
I hike out of the woods just as the sun is setting and take Denver and Concord out of the paddock, locking them back in the kennel. It’s almost dinnertime for them, but I want to talk to Juliet first.
I trudge into the house to find her sitting on the couch, parka and boots off, a cup of tea warming her hands, a troubled expression on her beautiful face.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hey,” she says.
There’s an awkward silence between us as I shrug out of my coat and toe off my boots. Finally, she breaks it.
“Glenn left.” She pauses, then asks me in a small voice, “Are you...okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say, crossing the room to sit down on the coffee table across from her. “Are you?”
She places her tea on the table next to my hip and takes my hands in hers.
“I’m so sorry. He’s such an asshole. I didn’t invite him here.”
“I gathered as much,” I say, taking a deep breath, then letting it go. “So he was the professor you—”
“Please don’t,” she says, but then she adds in a whisper, “Yes.”
I gulp, because it physically hurts to think about her being with a douchebag like him. No matter who she ends up with—me or someone else—he should treat her like a queen. All the time. Every moment. Even when he’s mad. Even when he’s furious. He should still treat her with dignity and respect and love.
“I’m glad you’re not with him anymore,” I say.
“I was barely with him at all,” she says. “And we weren’t...exclusive. I thought we were, but...”
“That’s right. He cheated on you.” I blink at her, my brain swirling with murderous thoughts. “Think his plane’s left yet?”
“Whoa, boy.” Her lips twitch. “You already got him good. He was headed to the hospital when he left...to get his nose set.”
Now this is some good news!
“Broken?”
She shrugs, her smile in full bloom now. “Looked that way.”
“Yes!” I say, leaning forward to plant my lips on hers. I kiss her gently, tenderly, wanting her to know that I love her, in spite of what happened, that I’d defend her honor a hundred more times if it was required of me. That I will never let her feel unprotected or unloved as long as we’re together. Which reminds me...
I draw back just enough to see her eyes, which are dark with arousal.
“Hey darlin’,” I say. “I have something to ask you?”
Her voice is dreamy and drunk. “Hmm? What?”
“Is that invitation to go home with you at Christmas still open?”
She gasps, leaning away from me so she can see my whole face. “Y-Yes!”
“Then I’d like to take you up on it.”
“Cody! Oh, my God! Cody!” she cries, leaning forward to throw her arms around my neck. “You mean it? What about the dogs? What about—”
“I’ll take care of it,” I tell her, wanting her closer to me, but she’s still perched on the edge of the couch, and I’m still sitting on the table across from her. I stand up, and she follows my lead. When her body’s flush against mine, and my blood’s pumping fast and furious to one place, I ask her, “Think we could be a few minutes late giving the dogs dinner tonight?”
“I even think they’d understand,” she says, grinning at me as she takes my hand and pulls me back to the bedroom, “just this once.”
Chapter 12
Juliet
As we touch down in Missoula just before midnight, after a three-leg flight (Nome-Anchorage-Seattle-Missoula), and ten straight hours of travel, I’m exhausted. I had forgotten, after almost three months, how long it takes to get from Nome to...anywhere.
We checked one large suitcase to cut down
on extra fees, and after we collect it, we head outside to the curb to find my father, who spots us immediately, beeping the horn on his black GMC Yukon.
“Little Puppy!” he yells from the open passenger window, pulling up alongside of us and jumping out of the car.
“Little Puppy?” asks Cody, with raised eyebrows and a curious smile.
I wink at him. “Nickname. I’m Little Puppy. Braydon’s Big Puppy.”
“O-kaaaay,” he says, pulling the suitcase behind him as I run over to my dad.
He pulls me into a bear hug, then leans back to kiss my forehead before hugging me again. My dad smells like dog and cat, antiseptic wash and peppermint. It’s a mix of smells among my favorites in the whole world.
“Dad!” I cry, hugging him back.
“You’re here. You’re home.”
“I’m home,” I say, leaning back to grin at him.
“Let me look at you!” He cradles my cheeks in his warm, bare hands. “Oh, you look great, honey. Just great.”
“You too, Dad.” I glance over my shoulder at Cody, who’s standing on the curb, watching us. “Dad, you have to meet Cody.” I pull away from my father, standing between two of the most important men in my life. “Dad, this is Cody Garrison. Cody, this is my father, Wilbur Sanderson.”
“Folks call me Will,” says my dad, offering his hand to Cody.
I’ve warned my parents about Cody’s disability, that his right hand, his shaking hand, is severely disfigured and missing fingers. But my father doesn’t look down as Cody raises his bare hand to clasp my dad’s. He looks straight into Cody’s eyes, his warm smile broadening the moment their palms are flush.
“It’s good to meet you, sir,” says Cody without pulling away.
My father beams, finally letting go of Cody after the length of a normal handshake and not a moment sooner. He puts his hands on his hips, sizing up my boyfriend. “Pup has told me great things about you, Cody.”
“You’re her hero, sir, so that’s quite a compliment.”
“You served in the military, huh?”
“Yes, sir. From 2003 to 2006.”
“Afghanistan?”
“Yes, sir. I was stationed in Kandahar.”
“I’m sorry about what happened to your hands,” says my dad. He’s direct, but his voice is kind. He acknowledges Cody’s disability without speaking down to it.
“I try not to let them slow me down, sir,” Cody answers, and while this exchange makes me a little nervous—Cody’s hands are a sensitive topic—I’m also impressed by the way my dad and Cody seem to navigate the subject so gracefully.
“Quite literally!” chirps my father. “You race sled dogs!”
“Yes, sir. I do.”
“Think Juliet has any promise?”
“Quite a lot, sir,” he says, sliding his eyes to mine and offering me a small smile. “I’d go so far as to say she’s a natural.”
My father claps Cody on the back, then takes the suitcase from beside him, wheeling it to the trunk and encouraging us to get out of the cold and into the car. I take the front seat and Cody gets in the back for the half-hour ride. My parents live in a sprawling six-bedroom home with ten acres of land, a horse barn, paddock and decks with panoramic views of Lolo Peak and the Bitterroot River, about ten miles south of downtown Missoula.
“Can’t believe you kids are only here for three nights,” my dad grouses.
“That’s a lot, Dad. The Qimmiq is in three and a half weeks.”
“I know,” he says. “Just miss having you around, pup.”
“You’ll be sick of me by spring,” I say, referring to the ten weeks of internship I’ll be doing at my father’s veterinary clinic from early April to mid-June.
“No way, no how,” he answers. “Cody, who’s looking after your dogs this week?”
“My friends, Jonas and Rita, have a college-age son, Mitchell. He’s staying at my place.”
“Oh, that’s great.”
“Yeah. He’s not a racer, but he’ll make sure they’re fed and cared for. I have a fenced paddock where he can let them run for exercise.”
“Sounds good. I bet they enjoy the break from training too.”
“I don’t know about that, sir. Sled dogs love racing more than anything else.” He pauses. “But when Juliet asked to me come, I didn’t want to say no.”
My dad raises his eyebrows at me and grins, which makes me blush. I can tell he approves of Cody, and I like that, but it makes me feel bashful too.
“Are, um...are Braydon and Kristy staying over tomorrow night?” I ask.
“Already at the house,” my dad says. “But probably asleep.”
My brother and his girlfriend share an apartment in downtown Missoula but stay at my parents’ house during the holidays. Kristy’s folks are from Virginia, but she’s not close to them, so my parents have pretty much adopted her.
“You have family missing you this week, Cody?” my dad asks, looking at Cody in the rearview mirror.
“No, sir,” he answers. “Not much family to speak of. My sister lives in California, but we’re not close.”
“That’s too bad.”
“She and I are half-siblings,” he explains. “She’s much older than I am.”
“Well, Debbie and I are delighted you decided to join us.”
“Thank you, sir. It’s been a long time since I had a family Christmas.”
“Then brace yourself,” my dad says with a chuckle. “Debbie’s not known for half-measures.”
I look back at Cody, and we share a smile before I turn to my father.
“What’s on the docket for tomorrow?” I ask.
“Did I tell you I bought a camp up by Lincoln?”
“What? No!”
“Race to the Sky starts in Lincoln, sir, doesn’t it?” asks Cody.
“Sure does, Cody. You ever raced it?”
“No, sir. But I’d like to. Someday.”
“Dad,” I interrupt. “Tell me about your new place!”
“Oh, yeah. I thought we might go up and see it. It’s a little run-down, but in a great location. Two-bedroom cabin. Has plumbing and electricity. Paddock and barn. Both need a little work, but I don’t mind that. We’re up there every year for the race, not to mention, it’s close to Smith Lake. Great—”
“Pike and perch fishing?”
“That’s my pup!” says my dad. “You fish, Cody?”
“Not much, sir.”
“Willing to give it a try?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Cody?” says my dad, flicking a glance in the rearview mirror.
“Yes, sir?”
“I sure do appreciate your manners, son, but if you can see to dropping the ‘sir,’ I’d really like for us to be friends. What do you say?”
I grin at my dad, before looking over my shoulder at Cody, who nods.
“I’d like that too, sir—um, Will.”
***
My dad wasn’t kidding about my mom going all-out at Christmas.
The entire house is covered in twinkle lights and decorations: two small Christmas trees roped in white lights on the front porch, and another two just inside the front door. There are five fireplaces in my parent’s house and every one of them is dressed with pine boughs, gold bows, and white lights. In the great room, which is two stories high and boasts a massive fieldstone fireplace, there’s a decorated Christmas tree almost ten feet tall, and underneath are about a hundred gifts, wrapped in silver and gold, metallic reds and greens. It’s like the North Pole in Debbie Sanderson’s house, and she’s proud of it.
She greets us at the front door with big hugs, then ushers Cody to a guest room and me to my childhood bedroom across the hall. We are informed that just like Braydon and Kristy, who aren’t engaged yet, we will be sleeping in separate bedrooms until such time as promises are made.
As I roll my eyes at my mother, I notice Cody’s cheeks pinken. Is he thinking of all the things he’s done to Will and Debbie’s daughter in hi
s bed up in Nome? I sure am. After my parents leave us and head to their main floor master bedroom, I quickly change into my pajamas and knock softly on Cody’s door.
He opens it, standing in the doorway to block me from entering.
“Yes?” he asks, trying not to smile.
“Let me in!” I whisper.
“Nope.”
“Cody,” I say, pushing on his rock-hard abs, “Come on!”
“No, ma’am, I can’t. I like your dad too much.”
“He likes you too!”
“He won’t if he finds his daughter in my bed.”
“We can be quiet.”
“No, darlin’, you can’t,” he says, that smile getting the better of him.
He calls me “darlin’,” and I’m instantly wet, I swear.
“Please,” I say, pouting a little. I’m not above begging. I want him.
“Absolutely not.”
“Fine,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and turning away.
In a split second, his arm snakes around my waist, and he turns me to face him. His eyes are dark with longing as his lips land on mine. My arms wind around his neck as he kisses the breath from my lungs, holding me tightly in the upstairs hallway of my parents’ house. He laps at my tongue, tangling his with mine as his growing erection grinds against my belly. I whimper softly, and he breaks off the kiss, skimming his lips along my throat.
“Told you.”
“Told me what?”
“That you couldn’t be quiet.”
I chuckle against his shoulder, still holding him, feeling a completeness, a wholeness, a happiness that I’ve never known with another man. It bubbles up inside of me, fully formed and ready to be spoken, and I’m helpless to repress it, not that I would if I could. It’s too full of joy. Too alive. Too much wonderful to keep hidden inside.
“I love you, Cody,” I whisper near his ear. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”
His arms go slack for a second before tightening around me, then he leans his head up, finding my eyes in the dim light and holding them.
“I love you, too. And there’s nowhere else in the world I want to be.”
And then he kisses me again, slowly and tenderly this time, so gently that I feel like I’ll die if he doesn’t let me into his bed or follow me into mine. I take his hand.