“It’s no big deal,” he said. “I swim in the lake every day until it freezes over.”
“Well, thank you, for the thought anyway.” She turned back to the plane. Best not to talk to him anymore. She felt herself weakening.
He walked by her toward the lake and retrieved his socks, shoes, and flannel shirt. She ducked her head into the plane’s engine as he passed her again. She went through a checklist of things and didn’t find anything wrong or out of the ordinary. Water in the fuel must have caused the engine to die, because she sure as hell couldn’t find any other reason.
She secured the housing over the engine, climbed back into the cockpit, and cranked over the engine. It spurted and sputtered and then fired to life. A huge relief swept through Jesse. No spending the night with Grizzly Adams. She looked through the windshield and found him leaning against the log pole on his porch, watching her.
He looked equally relieved, and that shouldn’t piss her off. He’d do well to have her company. There were many men waiting in line to show her a good time if she wanted one. Since June, she’d been more likely to bite their heads off if they approached her, but that didn’t stop them. One thing about Alaskan men, they were extremist.
She let the engine run a bit as she studied the instruments. Everything checked out and she looked good to go. She called Cin. “Everything’s a go. I’ll radio you when I’m in the air.”
“I have vodka on ice and salmon thawing,” Cin said. “No margaritas tonight. Hurry and get back here so we can get drunk off our asses. I badly need to be wasted in order to recover from today.”
“Sounds like heaven,” Jesse said, looking forward to some liquid oblivion. She signed off with Cin and cut the engines. The plane was beached too high on the bank to motor back into the water. She stepped down onto the pontoon.
“You sure you’re safe to fly?” Sloan asked.
“I’m pretty positive it was water in the gas that stalled the engines. Happens to every pilot at some point. Do you have some small logs or hotdog buoys we can get under the floats and roll her back into the water? Then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“I’ll find something. Eat this while I rummage around.” He handed her a sandwich. “It will help with the shaking.”
“Uh, thanks.” She took the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Her hand was shaking from the adrenaline spike. She bit into the sandwich and followed him behind the cabin. She moaned around a mouthful. Hey, she didn’t bring him bread. “Did you make this bread?”
“No, I buy it at the bakery down the shore.”
Okay, she deserved that. As far as she knew, no one flew in here except her. If she didn’t bring it, Sloan didn’t have it. “Well, it’s good.”
He grunted.
Everything around his place was organized. No trash or extra piles of ‘stuff’ like she’d seen with a lot of people who lived off the grid. Erich Sloan was organized and meticulous, with nothing going to waste.
“Is that a hot tub?” she asked, working to swallow a big bite of peanut butter.
“One of my summer projects.”
“All those bags of concrete I flew in here, that’s what they were for?” She gaped at the deep circle tub that had been molded out of concrete and placed on cinderblocks—she’d brought them in a few separate loads too. The tub sat up on the cinderblocks where he could lay a fire underneath to heat the water.
“Won’t that crack when the water freezes?”
“I built in a drain. When it snows, I’ll be able to melt it and enjoy a hot bath. Repeat the process as needed.”
“Genius.”
“Necessity is the mother of invention.”
A nice network of pathways packed down with gravel and sand from the beach connected the greenhouse, covered woodpile, and a smaller building next to the hot tub. She didn’t think it was an outhouse. She knew from experience that he’d outfitted the cabin with indoor plumbing and had a compost toilet, shower, and water heater. But this smaller building was new.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Sauna.”
“Nice.” It was all very homey, kind of domesticated. She popped the last bite of the sandwich into her mouth and chewed. Sloan was set up better than she was back in Homer. The greenhouse off to the right was still stocked with green, thriving plants. Red tomatoes showed through the Plexiglass she’d flown in. It had been a bugger taking out the backseats in her plane to make room for them. “Don’t you have problems with moose trying to get in there?”
“Not anymore. Read about a natural deterrent, and so far it seems to have worked.”
“What deterrent? My mother’s greenhouse is always getting raided.”
“Don’t think she could do this.”
“Why, what do you do? Pee around it.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Nooo. You do not!”
“It works. I haven’t even had squirrels.”
She laughed. “That really is genius. I’ll pass that along to my mom. She’s so frustrated that I wouldn’t put it past her to try it.”
“If she’s anything like you, I’m sure she’ll succeed in figuring something out.”
“Wow. Was that like…a compliment?”
He turned away from her and changed the subject. “Back here I should have something that will work.”
She’d gotten a little too friendly, and the walls were back up. Good. She didn’t want him becoming human. She preferred the asshole. It was bad enough she’d gotten a glimpse of the man inside when his defenses were down four months ago.
“These should work.” Sloan stopped at a pile of logs. “I’d planned on splitting this for firewood if I needed it.”
Jesse looked back to the huge lean-to filled to the roof with chopped wood. “You’ll only need this if winter goes into the next ice age.” How did one man do all this work by himself?
Sloan dug into the pile and pulled out a log about six feet long and roughly four inches in circumference. “Can you carry this?”
“Yes.” She picked up the log while he found two more that were comparable and led the way back to the plane. She followed behind, trying not to admire the ease with which he balanced small tree-trunks on his shoulders. By the time they returned to the plane, she was out of breath and sweating. Sloan wasn’t even winded.
The stamina this man had. Her heart flipped in her chest as images of him naked and insatiable flashed in her mind. She dropped the log.
Sloan straightened from depositing the wood behind the floats. “You okay?”
“You bet,” she breathed out. Oh, no she wasn’t. She needed to get away from him. She wiped her forehead and hit the cut he’d bandaged. Pain arced through her head and she welcomed the throb as it cleared her mind and lessened her desire.
There was no way she still wanted him. He wasn’t good for her. She had to get him out of her system. No, she had to get him out of her head. The best thing would be to quit thinking of him altogether. He consumed too much of her time.
When she shopped for him, she thought of him and what brand of stew he would prefer, what would make him the happiest. Who was she kidding? Nothing made him happy. She had to quit caring what he wanted. Right now.
If she didn’t, it would just lead to more heartache. And she didn’t know how much her heart could take.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sloan narrowed his eyes and studied her.
“Yep, dandy.” Dandy? She’d actually said dandy? That was something her grandmother would say. Usually sarcastically too. “Fine. I’m fine. Just help me get out of here.”
“Right.” He motioned toward the back of the cabin. “I’m going to grab a shovel.”
“Good idea.” She took another glance up at the clouds. They were eating up the blue sky like it was ice cream cake.
Chapter Four
Just a few more minutes, maybe thirty, and he could get back to wasting his time trying to write and forget Jesse was even here. One step at a time. Get the plane up
on skids and launch it back in the water. The first log was already in place. Maybe they needed the come-a-long. That would make things go faster.
“Oh, shit, shit, shit!” Jesse’s chant raised in octave with each word. She’d been helping to navigate the placing of the log on the opposite side of the plane. “Sloan!”
“What is it?” A skittering of unease shivered over him as he rushed to where she was kneeling along the front of the pontoon.
“I’m not going anywhere.” She pointed to the broken weld along the side of the float. “The force of hitting the beach must have cracked it. I can’t take off until it’s fixed.”
Sweat broke out along his lower spine. “How do we fix it?”
“Have an aluminum welder somewhere?”
He shook his head, grasping for words. There were none. He made his living stringing words together in a way that grabbed readers by the throat and refused to let them go until the last word was read. His assassin series was killer, no pun intended. Yet, he couldn’t find one word to use at this moment.
“What about a rivet gun? Sheet metal? Waterproof caulking?” Jesse asked.
“Do I look like a freaking hardware store?” He shook his head faster, almost frantic.
Her expression darkened much the way the afternoon weather had suddenly turned. She looked up at the sky and swore again. This time she used a word he’d never thought to hear from her pretty mouth. It conjured intriguingly feverish images in his head.
No, she wasn’t intriguing. She was a pain in his ass. Too cute, too bubbly, and too damned sexy. She needed to leave. Now. If not for his sanity then definitely for her safety.
Her eyes widened as though his thoughts were being telegraphed in his expression. Like how he wanted to sample her, see if she tasted as good as he’d dreamt she did.
Oh, Christ.
He straightened and clambered back away from her. “Call someone. Get them out here right now. The plane can stay here until you can return with parts and fix it.” Like the middle of winter. That would give him some time to cool off. “But you gotta go.”
“You’re a real asshole, you know that?”
“Damn right I am, and you are not staying here.”
“Believe me, I don’t want to.”
“Good. Now would you goddamn do something about it!”
“I am!” She swiveled on her heel and stomped away muttering obscenities. Actually, not muttering at all. Cursing his parentage and his manhood, plenty loud for him and any animals in the vicinity to completely comprehend. She climbed into the cockpit and grabbed her sat phone.
That’s more like it. Call for a freaking air taxi. The sooner the better.
Antsy with the need to know what was going on, he yanked open the passenger door so he could hear her conversation.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Jesse arrowed an angry stare his direction, and shooed him away like he was some unwanted mutt.
No way was he going away. He fucking lived here. She’d parked her plane in his front yard. She was the one trespassing, damn it.
When it became apparent that he was determined to eavesdrop, she scrambled out her side of the plane with the sat phone stuck to her ear. “Come on, Cin. I can’t stay here.”
“She had the Coast Guard ready to come for you,” he said, rushing around the plane to shadow her. “Get them out here.”
She lowered the phone and covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “Would you shut up? And the Coast Guard isn’t going to come get me when everyone knows I’m fine.” She gave him her back and held up the phone to her ear again while she marched down toward the lake.
Cin must have said something, because Jesse looked up at the sky and swore.
Sloan did the same.
Great. Fucking great.
He’d lived in Alaska long enough to recognize Mother Nature in all her wonder and bitchy moods. She was about to deliver one hell of a destructive tantrum.
Jesse disconnected from Cin and shivered, looking out over the blackening water. Whitecaps churned up his lake.
Not a good sign. He hadn’t even noticed when the wind had picked up. It teased Jesse’s hair into a soft, ethereal halo, while whipping his into his face, stinging and pulling to be free of its leather binding.
A wall of flurry advanced from the north end of the lake. They wouldn’t have long before it got here. The temperature had dropped drastically. He hadn’t noticed when they’d been working, but now he couldn’t suppress a shiver. His whole world was crashing in on him, boiling like the thunderheads.
Living off the grid was supposed to make him free, not imprison him…with her.
Chapter Five
“Help me tie her down!” Jesse yelled, running toward the plane. This storm wasn’t supposed to show until tomorrow morning, and it hadn’t been predicted to be so bad.
“What did Cin say?” Sloan demanded. “Is she sending someone for you?”
She gestured to the storm bearing down on them. “Seriously? Do you not have eyes in your obstinate head? I’m grounded. Everyone in a five hundred mile radius is grounded. No flights. Nobody is coming. Deal with it and help me secure my plane.”
She yanked open the storage compartment, grabbed the tie-downs, and handed him two.
“What do you want me to do with these? There’s nothing to tie them to.” He stood looking at her like he wanted to tear something, or someone, apart.
Did the thought of her staying overnight enrage him that much?
“Think? You’re a smart man. Well, sometimes. Attach the tie-downs to the wings, using those clips, and then secure the other end to the posts on your porch. I’ll figure something out with the tail.” Her words were being grabbed and distorted by the wicked wind screaming toward them. Still Sloan wasn’t getting the picture.
“Do you like your cabin?” she asked.
“Of course. I built it. It’s my home.”
She pointed to the storm that had them in its sights. “From what Cin said, that storm is carrying seventy-mile-an-hour plus winds. That’s hurricane forces, and it came out of nowhere. Storms like that will pick up my little plane and toss it into the living room of your cabin like it’s a toy. Get the picture?”
He gave her an irritated, jerky nod and moved toward the wings. While he was still angry over the situation at least he was being useful now. She turned toward the tail, looped ties around, and secured it to opposing trees. Sloan finished about the same time she did and stepped up onto the covered porch. She inspected his work, satisfied that her plane was officially hogtied.
And, it seemed, so was she.
She glanced at Sloan where he stood on the porch—his feet braced apart, hands clenched in fists at his sides with his long, dark hair whipping free around him in the storm.
Good Lord in heaven, he was magnificent. Wild, untamed, and in a hellish mood that mirrored the storm. Goosebumps rose on her skin. Thunder boomed behind her as though in agreement, confirming that she was in over her head.
Lightning crackled and strobed around them, raising the little hairs on her body. There was an eerie moment of silence and then the clouds opened up and a deluge of icy rain drenched her. She went from dry one second to soaked the next. This weather wasn’t messing around.
“What the hell are you doing?” Sloan yelled at her.
Like she had any idea?
“Woman, get your ass up here. I’m not nursing you back to health if you get sick.”
A tremor went through her that had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with him. If she entered his cabin, she didn’t think she’d be leaving it the same person. The last time she’d stayed too long, the experience had changed her irrevocably.
What would be left of her this time?
Another boom of thunder shook her out of her frozen state, and she ran for him.
Fool woman.
Sloan shoved the door shut behind them, having to put his back into it as the wind gusted hard against the solid, hand-planed
door he’d built. If only he’d been alone as planned, he’d relish the drama of this storm.
His whole life had been orchestrated around being alone. He’d spend the weekend trying to write as the weather raged outside. There was something about a mean storm that charged the air and fueled his ideas, his need to create.
Now he had a freaking houseguest.
He turned. His heart slammed in his chest and all the blood drained out of his head and pooled in his nether regions.
Jesse stood in the middle of the open room, her wet clothes plastered to her body. Her golden skin glistened with droplets of water, and every lush curve and delicious dip of her body was highlighted in silhouette. She might as well have been nude for all her clothes did to hide her.
“You’re wet,” he snarled, the sound that of a man at the end of his leash. Any moment it was going to snap, and he didn’t know what he’d do. Drag her down to the wood floor, peel her clothes from her body, and then thrust his body into hers, taking her hard and fast. That would be where he’d start.
His hand shook as he pointed to the door behind her. “Bathroom. Towels.”
She must have picked up on his precarious state, because she inched backward, not taking her eyes off him until she closed the door in his face.
Breath whooshed from his body, and his knees bent almost buckling under him. He had to grab the back of a kitchen chair.
This isn’t good.
He’d never taken a woman with force before. Never even entertained the idea, but Jesse had sexually barbaric thoughts running around in his mind.
Maybe I’m going crazy?
He’d read about people who were alone too long. They hallucinated, fantasized, talked to themselves…
Shit, I’m screwed.
He already talked to himself, fantasized about Jesse, wrote about her. Hallucinating wasn’t that far removed from what he already did.
Is she even here?
He strode to the window and looked out. Her plane was tied up right outside his front door. His imagination was good, but was it that good?
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