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Wicked in Winter

Page 14

by Jennifer Bernard


  She could totally see it.

  His howl set off a chain reaction of barking and yodeling from the dog team. When they got that out of their system, Zander turned the team around and they headed back down the stream bed, toward the set of tracks they’d left up the slope and into the forest. For the uphill portion, they both got out and walked next to the tiring dogs.

  By the time they’d returned the team and the sled to their home, Zander didn’t have much time before he had to leave for car-pool duty. Not nearly enough time for kissing—although they made the most of it while Zander boiled water for hot cocoa.

  Standing behind him at the stove, she ran her hands under his sweater, then under the other layers until she hit damp, warm skin. She felt him shiver at her touch.

  “Playing with fire,” he warned. “If I’m late picking up the kids, I’ll be in big trouble. I might even have to get married to make up for it.”

  “That sounds terrible,” she murmured. “What kind of crazy girl would you get to do that?”

  “That’s the thing. I have the highest possible standards. It would have to be someone I can’t get out of my head. Someone incredible. Someone with the most amazing smile I’ve ever seen. The kind of girl you dream about. You know, those naked dreams that you don’t want to wake up from.”

  Startled, she stilled her hands on their journey across the ridges of his abdomen. He turned, questioning, and shifted them so they weren’t standing so close to the stove. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s—you were in my dream last night.”

  “That’s funny. You were in mine. Were we doing something fun in your dream?”

  “Sledding. Standing up, like on a surfboard. What were we doing in yours?”

  His eyes darkened. “I’d rather show you.” He set his hands on her hips and tugged her against his groin. The hard curve of his erection pressed against her, just above her sex. She wanted it on her sex. She wanted him, damn it.

  No one but him.

  It had to be his hands gliding under her sweater, his strong body pressed against hers. She wanted his mouth coming down on her like an oncoming storm. His lips setting fire to her blood. His groans reverberating through her body.

  He slid his hands between her legs and cupped her sex. Her entire body gave a jolt of reaction—all her nerve endings firing at once.

  “Zander,” she whispered into his shoulder.

  “Hm?” He found her most sensitive spot with one of his long fingers. She squeezed her eyes shut as pleasure welled under his touch.

  “How long does ‘courtship on speed’ usually last?”

  “You think I’m an expert? I’ve never courted anyone before.”

  He rubbed her gently, increasing his pace bit by bit until she thought she might burst into flames faster than the burner under the hot cocoa.

  “Then we can make up our own rules?”

  She tugged him closer so she could slide a hand down his pants. The hot skin of his lower belly twitched and his erection rose up to meet her. The first touch of that hard shaft sent a sharp bolt of lust through her.

  He gave a strained laugh; she felt its vibration in her bones. “Don’t you do that anyway?”

  “Mostly,” she admitted. “Since the ones I got taught made no sense to me.”

  “You’re wicked. You’re the queen of chaos, that’s what you are.” Whatever he was doing with his hand, it was making her body arch shamelessly. Desire poured through her like rich thick coffee syrup, undiluted and dark as pitch. Then it slid into something else—a pulse of release, a rush of pleasure that was more like a tease than an orgasm. A promise of climaxes to come.

  “And you’re, what? The law of the land? Mr. Ross the Boss?” She nipped at his chin. “Are you going to boss me around and tell me what to do?”

  “Count on it.” With a deep growl, he gripped her hips. She caught her breath, anticipating his next move, his next caress. Instead, he set her away from him. Tension sang in every line of his body. He practically snarled with regret. “But only when I’m not on car-pool duty.”

  Now that was discipline. Wow. “You’re sure?”

  “No. I’m already late. Do you want Petey hanging out with those idiots who keep daring him to throw snowballs at the principal?” He tucked his shirt back into his pants. He looked wild with lust.

  “No, of course not. Ugh. Those troublemakers.” She drew in a long shaky breath. “This is my fault. I never should have touched you.”

  “Hey.” He tugged her back to his side. “Never apologize for that. Believe me, every time you touch me, it’s better than all the times that you don’t touch me. No matter how it ends up. You get me?”

  She must have looked confused, because he gave a wry laugh and ran a hand through his hair. He pocketed his truck keys.

  “Never mind. You’ve scrambled my vocabulary. You coming?”

  “To pick up the kids?”

  “Yeah, if you have time. You can recite your middle names again. I want to get this courtship thing done as quickly as we can. Otherwise I might implode.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Zander hadn’t done much “dating” in his life. He’d lost his virginity to his high school girlfriend, who had since moved away from Alaska. In the Marines, he’d hooked up with his share of women, but he wouldn’t call that “dating.” Definitely not “courtship.” Since moving back to Lost Harbor, he’d kept things very simple with the women he met. No strings, no attachments, no expectations.

  This thing with Gretel—courtship, negotiation, whatever it was—fell into its own unique category.

  Lust. Friendship. Fun. All of that, plus a weird layer of surreal seriousness. He remembered a documentary he’d seen about arranged marriages, in which the couples were brought together by their families, but were given time to get to know each other before committing to the marriage.

  It almost felt like that, except their families didn’t even know they had a role in this. The boys noticed that Zander and Gretel were spending a lot of time together. So did Bethany. Gretel told him that her sister had quizzed her relentlessly when she dropped in for her morning coffee at the Wicked Brew.

  Other people noticed too, which they decided was a good thing. It would add authenticity to the story they were weaving for Susan Baker. The more time they spent together, the more real it looked. The more time they spent together, the more Lost Harbor got used to the idea of Zander and Gretel.

  But mostly, the more time they spent together, the more time he wanted to spend together.

  It almost didn’t matter what they did. Cuddling up watching DVDs on the couch during a storm was great. Ice skating on the pond that the town hot-mopped was wonderful. He loved snowshoeing through the woods with her, because she brought such a sense of wonder to every adventure, and she was so curious about everything.

  He showed her bunny tracks in the snow—and the mark made by the owl that had swooped in and claimed the rabbit. He taught her how to warm her hands in her armpits, and how to recognize a spot where a moose had bedded down for the night—and might be back.

  He asked her about her globetrotting days, and she told him about backpacking through Thailand and sailing in the Mediterranean. He enjoyed her stories, but they also drove home the reality that Lost Harbor, Alaska would never be enough for her. No matter what they decided about “marriage,” she would still want to see the world.

  But he’d show her whatever he could of his world, while she was here.

  On the night of the new moon, in the clear aftermath of another storm, he tapped on her bedroom window and lured her into the darkness. She came out, still yawning, but always up for an adventure. He kneeled at her feet to help her get her snowshoes on because she was still half asleep. He fitted a headlamp over her hat as she blinked at him sleepily.

  It was adorable.

  He snowshoed ahead of her, breaking the trail, his headlamp casting a narro
w cone of light across the snow, which lit up with sparkles as he moved. It took only a short time to reach the lookout, and once they did, Gretel finally woke up.

  “Oh my God.” She grabbed his hand. “That’s…wow. That’s incredible.” Ethereal veils of lights shimmered across the sky in luminous white, tender spring green and faded blood red.

  “Aurora borealis. The northern lights. Solar flares hitting our atmosphere. We don’t always see so many colors here. Usually they’re just white.”

  The lights danced in a fluid flow across the entire horizon. They fluctuated in intensity, with one area of the sky fading while another dominated. The shapes were always changing, too, as if they were following an invisible symphony conductor who dazzled with light and harmony.

  “Are they singing?” she asked in a whisper.

  “No, they don’t make any sound.”

  “Are you sure? I think I can hear them. It’s like a hum, but harmonized.” She cocked her head, trying to home in on something. “Maybe it’s something else.”

  “I don’t know. My mother used to say they sang. But science says they don’t.” He wondered if she realized she was still holding his hand.

  “Pfff. Science, schmience,” she scoffed. “I agree with your mother.”

  She adjusted her neck, which must be starting to cramp from looking up at the sky. Now that was a job he could handle. He pulled off his glove and replaced her hand with his. Gently, he rubbed out the knot until he felt her muscles relax.

  She made a sound of appreciation, low in her throat.

  “Now I hear a hum,” he joked. He adjusted her position so that she could lean back on him without bending her neck so much. “Is that better?”

  “Yes. You’re like a big warm wall.”

  He chuckled and looped his arms around her. She nestled closer against him. The cold clear night kept sending tendrils of icy air at the edges of their clothing and their exposed faces. “I’ll take that as a compliment. At least the big and warm part.”

  They stayed like that for as long as they could stand it, taking in the drama of light and color playing out in the heavens. The cold tried hard to chase them away, but Gretel was so riveted by the lights that he didn’t have the heart to call an end. Instead he checked the skin of her cheek to make sure she wasn’t chilling down too much, the way he used to do with Petey, and his father had done with him.

  “Did you know that the Japanese believe it’s good luck to see the Auroras on your honeymoon?” he murmured to her.

  “Too bad we’re not on our honeymoon yet. You should have jumped on my proposal,” she joked.

  “I did jump on it. This is just…you know, foreplay.” He rested his chin on the top of her head.

  “So you think we’d get along with each other?”

  “I think we’d have a lot of fun trying to find out.”

  She turned and looked up at him. “Wait, are you saying we should do it?”

  With her face lit only by the Northern Lights, she was even more luminous than usual.

  “Do you still want to?”

  He hadn’t intended to have this conversation right now. But here they were, and time was running short. Susan Baker could be back at any moment.

  She twisted her face, as if trying to decide, and in that moment he realized that he’d feel empty and disappointed if they didn’t go forward with this. He’d gotten used to spending time with her. More than “used” to it. Time with Gretel was always the best part of his day.

  And that, he realized, was the biggest risk of all. He could fall so thoroughly in love with her that if—no, probably when—she left, he’d be crushed. Deeply so.

  But if it helped keep the Ross family together, he could take the hit. That was what Marines did.

  “Yes,” she finally said, a smile breaking over her face. “It’s both unselfish and a little bit selfish of me, but yes. It helps you, and I can help the butterflies and…I like you.”

  I like you.

  Huh.

  Obviously, he was the only one who’d be getting his heart crushed. Suck it up, Zander.

  “A lot,” she added softly, probably noticing his expression.

  Too late. He got the message, and honestly, it was a good wakeup call. Despite their “courtship” and the fun they had together, this wasn’t a romance. It was a mutually beneficial agreement.

  “The thing is, it’s a real sacrifice for me,” he told her gravely.

  “Excuse me?” She frowned and tried to draw away from him, but he held her close.

  “It means you’ll be staying, and I’ll have to go on the Bush Lines and make an ass of myself.”

  Glee lit up her face. “I hadn’t even thought about that part. I guess my evil plan is working.” She rubbed her hands together.

  “Unless my evil plan is to draw you into my web and then drive you so crazy with my bossy ways that you get the first airlift out of here.”

  She laughed, then looked at him from under her eyelashes, a scorching, smoldering look that sent him into immediate lust mode. “What if I like your bossy ways?”

  “Then…move it, woman. We need to get out of this cold and into a bed. Immediately.”

  With that reminder of the cold, she gave a full-body shudder. “Not gonna argue with that.”

  He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “We’ve been standing still too long. You’ll warm up when we get moving.”

  As he massaged heat into her, her eyes got that hazy, happy look that always reminded him of a cat curled by a fireplace. “I like it when you warm me up.”

  “Then you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. There’s a lot more heat where this came from. Come on.”

  He struck off across the snow, while she took one more look at the glory of the Aurora, then followed him into the woods. He wasn’t cold at all. His entire body was on fire for her.

  And his entire brain was busy trying to figure out how they could make this happen. Her bed, in the midst of all those Noonans? Hell no.

  His bed, with his brothers right across the hall? Another hell no.

  Could he arrange for the boys to have an overnight somewhere? Could they book a room at the Eagle’s Nest, the nicest hotel in town?

  And then magically, about a month into their “courtship on speed,” everything fell into place. Jason was invited to travel with the ski team to a weekend meet. And Petey asked if he could have an overnight at the Noonans’ so he and Eli could work on an extensive, multi-pronged snow-and-ice fort they were perfecting. It had tunnels and arched doorways and enough space to sleep in. They were lobbying hard to be able to camp out in it overnight.

  He gave Petey permission for whatever Abby and Earl felt comfortable with. Petey could barely hide his surprise, but he didn’t question his good fortune. He just packed his backpack and hopped in the truck, ready for his ride.

  Zander sent Gretel a text to invite her over that night.

  Slumber party? She asked.

  Don’t count on any slumber.

  She sent back some winky faces. I’ll tell the Noonans I’m going to stay at my sister’s.

  When he dropped Petey off at the Noonans’ that afternoon, he did his best to speak normally to Gretel, instead of revealing the excitement raging through him.

  Of course Gretel had to make it even harder by playing innocent. “So, you have a free night, Zander Ross. Are you going out on the town? Should I tell the female population of Lost Harbor to watch out?”

  “Hopefully they’re already lining up for a chance at this.” He flexed his muscles, making a joke of it.

  But he caught the way her gaze lingered on his chest. He definitely wasn’t the only one nearly jumping out of his skin with anticipation.

  “Gretel, you should go over there and keep Zander company.” Abby spoke from the rocking chair, where she was nursing the baby.

  “Oh, I totally would, but I promised my sister I’d spend some time with her. We’ve both been so busy, what with her saving lives with medicin
e and me saving lives with coffee. Sorry, Zander, you’ll just have to get through the night on your own. I hope it’s not too hard.”

  Subtle emphasis on the word hard.

  The wicked girl.

  He drove back home and raced through the house for a whirlwind cleanup. It shouldn’t matter—in fact it would be better for Gretel to see the full reality of the household she might be joining—but somehow, he wanted to impress her. He found some local shrimp in the freezer and made a quick stir fry in case she was hungry.

  He’d once heard her mention to Abby that she could never get enough shrimp.

  What about dessert? Ice cream supply, check. Including the pistachio he’d made sure to buy. Fudge sauce, yes. Whipped cream in a can, yes. All he needed was Gretel’s naked breasts so he could lick that cream off her nipples.

  He lost himself in that fantasy for a moment, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door.

  Going for a cheesy playboy pose, he opened the door with a leer and one hand braced on the doorframe.

  But it wasn’t Gretel. It was Susan Baker.

  He dropped the leer in a flash, but she’d already seen it. “Expecting someone else?”

  “Uh, yes.”

  “Your girlfriend, I presume. My timing is always off.” She didn’t seem to regret that fact at all. In fact, she wore a smug smile.

  “You’re back from Kodiak.”

  “So it seems. May I come in?” She peered past him. “Are your brothers here?”

  “No, they’re both gone for the night.”

  “Ah. So you’re taking advantage of the situation.”

  He winced at the way she made that sound. “It’s not—I mean—look, do you ever just call ahead?”

  “I happened to be in the neighborhood.”

  A truck roared into his yard. Susan wheeled around just as Gretel’s Nissan Frontier veered past her Toyota. The caseworker gave a little gasp at the close shave.

  The door opened and Gretel jumped out of the truck, landing with one foot in a snowbank.

  Honestly, they were like a magnet for her, those snowbanks.

  She yanked her leg out of the snow and shook it off, then ran full-tilt across the yard.

 

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