by A. J. Wynter
“I feel the same way about foie gras,” he said, shaking his head. “But I like liver. It won’t go to waste. I’ll take it home. Take half of the burger and some fries too.” He slid his plate into the center of the table.
“Thank you,” I said. I picked up the half of the burger and so did Chase, both of us groaning as we took our first bites.
“Oh, my God, that’s the best burger I’ve ever had,” I said. I didn’t know if it was because I was starving, or if it was in fact, the best burger I’d ever had.
“Delicious,” Chase agreed. “It’s bison.”
I couldn’t help myself. “What did the buffalo say when he dropped his kid off at school?” I didn’t wait for him to guess. “Bye, Son.”
He shook his head, but I could see the side of his lips turn up into a smile, even through his thick beard. “Tell me more about your generations of generators,” I smiled.
Chase filled me in on his generator journey as we shared lunch together. I wasn’t sure how much time had gone by, but the last French fry was cold when my fingertips brushed his as we both reached for the piece of deep-fried heaven. We pulled back sharply and my hand ricocheted into the edge of the plate and it clattered noisily on the table between us. Now, along with the smile behind his beard, I could see the redness in his cheeks. I wondered if mine were the same shade. That was the first time our skin had touched without a protective layer of clothing, and I swore one of us must’ve picked up some static because the electricity that shot up my arm was almost painful.
“It’s all yours,” he pointed to the fry.
“You shared your entire lunch with me,” I pushed the plate toward him with my fingertips.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a stubborn woman?” Chase asked.
“All the time,” I smiled. He picked up the fry and snapped it in half, handing me the bigger piece. As I reached for it, a whoosh of adrenaline spread across my chest, the simple gesture left my heart pounding against my ribcage.
Chase was ninety percent asshole and ten percent... I still wasn’t sure. I didn’t think that French fry sharer was a personality type.
“What are you currently working on?” I asked. We had been through descriptions of his generator and wind turbine system. He had shocked me when he told me that he canned his vegetables and made marmalade. Picturing this burly man in the kitchen stirring gelatin into a big pot wearing an apron took all of my imagination, but I have to admit, the imagery was pretty damn hot.
“Bees,” he replied. The waitress checked on us, dropped the bill, and took my liver away to pack up.
“Honeybees?” The beekeeper imagery wasn’t as sexy as the shirtless jam maker, but it made me smile just the same. “How many do you have?”
“None yet.” Chase pulled out two twenty-dollar bills and slipped them into the bill folder.
“Oh, that’s not necessary.” I reached for it, but he pulled the check out of my reach.
“It’s on me.”
“I can write it off as a business expense.” I tugged the plastic folder towards me.
“Please, let me get this as a way of apologizing for being such a...”
“Dick?”
His eyes flashed up at me and I clapped my hand over my mouth.
“That’s the word I was looking for,” he smiled. “Don’t forget your notes.” He pointed to the notepad that I’d filled up with technical details for my ‘article.’
“Right.” As I shoved it into my bag, pangs of guilt shot through me. He had gone into great detail about his setup, the benefits, the headaches, and I wasn’t going to use any of it.
When we stepped outside, the fresh snow that had fallen was well over the top of my hiking boots, cresting at my shins. “Can I walk you to your car?” he asked.
“I walked into town this morning.”
“Well, then let me give you a ride home.”
“That’s not necess—” My foot right hit a patch of ice, sliding forward, while my left remained firmly planted. “Eeeeek,” I squealed, my arms flailing trying to find anything solid to stop me from performing a split. That something solid happened to be Chase’s forearm.
“Easy now,” He stepped over my right foot to face me, all while I maintained my death grip on his arm. He grabbed my biceps tightly and supported me so I could slide my foot back to its rightful place beside the other one.
“Thanks,” I smiled, hoping that I hadn’t pulled a hamstring.
“Lucky you’re flexible,” he smiled.
“Oh, that certainly tested the limits,” I winced as I set my full weight on my foot.
“You should look into getting some ice spikes for your boots.” He lifted his foot and pointed to the metal spikes strapped to his boots with rubber.
“I thought those were for old people,” I said, hobbling forward.
Chase laughed. “I am old.”
“You’re thirty-five,” I laughed. That’s not old.
He tilted his head and stopped walking. “How do you know how old I am?”
Shit. Fuck. Damn. “Just a guess, there’s no gray in that beard yet.” I smiled hoping he would buy it. I took a few more steps with my hands held out beside me like a tightrope walker. The last thing I needed was a concussion.
“Here,” Chase crooked out his elbow. “Let me help you.” The old school gentleman move caught me off guard, but I slid my gloved hand into the crook of his arm, taking a hold of his strong arm. The height disparity between us made me feel like a child or an old lady. The man had to be over six foot four; a full sixteen inches taller than me.
“Thanks.” I felt a lot more secure walking beside this wall of a man in his spiky boots. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was the manliest, most alpha man I’d ever met.
“I’ll walk you to my truck and then take you to your house.”
I wanted to show Chase that I could handle the snowy streets on my own, but I was smart enough to know that wasn’t the greatest idea. “Deal.”
“Unless...”
“Unless what?” I asked, shuffling along beside him.
“You want to see the honeybee setup.”
I slowed slightly. This was the opportunity I had been waiting for.
Chapter 8 – Chase
BY THE TIME WE REACHED the access road, my tire tracks from earlier in the day were completely gone, but I knew they were there. I looked around the cab of my truck and saw it the way a woman, would see it. It was old, the dashboard faded, the windshield had a spider crack, and the passenger floor was practically rusted away, but she wouldn’t be able to see that. The seats were covered in Dumpster’s white fur and when I turned up the heat, tufts of it floated into the air.
I wheeled the truck onto the side road that I knew existed underneath the foot of snow.
“What are you doing?” she braced herself, her right hand gripping the handle above the door. Her eyes were wide as we bumped along the rutted road.
“This is the road.”
“What road?” she pointed to the sea of white and forest of trees ahead of us.
“Just because you can’t see something, doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” I said.
“That’s deep,” she smirked.
Every time the woman opened her mouth, she surprised me. Just like the road ahead of us, there was a lot more going on underneath the surface. “Literally or figuratively deep?” I said as we plowed through the foot of fresh powder, a cloud of white billowing out behind us.
She smiled at me but didn’t take her hands from their crash preparedness positions. “How far is it?”
“Just around the corner.” That was what my mom always said to us when we were kids, and it drove me nuts because wherever we were going was never just around the corner.
“I take it you don’t have many visitors.” Her body swayed heavily, and she grunted as we hit a pothole.
She was the first visitor I had ever had. “They tend to get lost at the turn by the crooked tree.” I smiled
as we rounded the corner of my favorite giant fir tree. I gave the truck a little gas into the corner, so the ass end swung out a little. Emma squealed and as I straightened us out, she shot me a dirty look. “It’s slippery around the corner,” I said trying to keep a straight face.
The forest became denser the closer we got to the cabin, blocking out the last of the gray afternoon light. I flicked on the headlights and pulled onto my laneway. I stopped the truck and hopped out to unlock the chain I had set up across the access point.
“Do you get a lot of trespassers?” she said as I hopped back into the truck. “No, why?” I asked.
“The signs,” she was staring out the passenger side window.
“Oh, those,” I chuckled. Years ago, kids had come through on four-wheelers, probably just out joyriding, but maybe casing the place. Either way, I didn’t want random people stumbling across my property, hence the ‘Trespassers will be shot on sight’ sign I had nailed to the tree.
“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”
“I haven’t had any since I put it up, so I’d say it’s been effective. It’s a lot better than ‘trespassers will be given a stern warning’ sign.”
“Would you?” she turned to look at me.
“Would I what? Shoot someone?” The sign was all for show. I had game cameras spread around my property. If thieves wanted to come in and take everything, we’d be able to figure out who it was pretty quickly. And I’d taken enough lives. I couldn’t have any more death hanging over my head. “I doubt it,” I said honestly. “That sign is just to scare people off, so I don’t have to deal with them.”
She pressed the gloves flat on her thigh. “Do you ever worry about your safety living out here?”
“Not really.” I switched the truck into 4x4 for the last ascent up to the cabin. Everything became brighter as we broke into the clearing and the tiny A-frame cabin came into view.
“It’s adorable,” Emma said as we parked. “Did you build this yourself?”
“The cabin was already here; I just made some modifications.” As we stepped out of the truck, I could hear Dumpster barking inside the cabin. “Oh, are you okay with dogs?” He was the friendliest mutt around, but he sounded like a junkyard dog.
“I love dogs,” she smiled. “Is he barking at me?”
I wasn’t sure. He was probably wondering why the hell someone else was at our house. “They say dogs are a good judge of people,” I raised my eyebrows at her. “Are you really who you say you are or are you here to murder me?”
She let out a polite laugh.
“Wait there, I’ll shovel a path for you,” I forged ahead to the front porch, yelling at Dumpster to stop barking, and then jogged back towards her with the shovel in front of me, clearing a path to the door.
“What’s that?” She pointed to the unmistakable footprint in the snow. A grizzly. I didn’t want to scare her, but it was fresh. Dumpster wasn’t barking at the cute blonde in the truck at all. The tracks circled the fenced-in garden and disappeared into the trees. “Is that a bear print?” she asked.
“No, that’s not a bear.” I stepped behind her, my back to the woods, and urged her forward. “Let’s go inside and get you introduced to my family.”
“What is it?” she walked, but her eyes were trained on the footprints. I wished that I had my Ranch Hand gun on me, but I never took it to town. “There are some big badgers living in the creek.”
“Oh,” she replied. “Is that why there are claws?”
The woman clearly wasn’t a nature reporter.
“Yes,” I glanced around. There wouldn’t be a reason for the grizzly to attack, but I was a little unnerved. By this time of year, they were usually hibernating up at higher elevations, but the berries had been scant this year and I heard the salmon run wasn’t great, so he was probably just trying to get in a few more snacks before his sleep.
As I ushered her inside, Dumpster flew by us and disappeared into the woods, barking and baying. He returned shortly, panting and clearly proud of himself.
Again, I looked at my home through fresh eyes. It was well kept and tidy, but definitely not homey. I felt her shiver next to me. The fire had been reduced to embers and the door shook in the wind behind us. “Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?”
“Tea would be nice, actually,” she said as she undid her hiking boots.
I grabbed a pair of wool socks from my dresser and tossed them to her. “Here, put these on.” I didn’t offer or wait for her to agree. Her feet had to be freezing. I clicked on the propane stove and filled up the kettle. “Have a seat, I’ll get the fire going,” I gestured to the sofa. She sat down and peeled her wet socks off her feet as I tossed a few logs onto the fire. The logs crackled as the fire roared to life.
Emma stood up and started poking around the cabin as I poured the hot water into the teapot. She looked out the window, “I guess we’re going to have to wait until the snow dies down to look at your beehives.” The snow had been coming down hard when we arrived, but now the visibility had been reduced to zero with the wind whipping the snow past the window.
“You live in a snow globe,” she smiled as she perused my bookshelves.
I grabbed two mugs and set them on the coffee table. “What do you take in your tea?” I asked.
“Just honey,” she replied.
“Next year, I’ll have my own honey,” I smiled. She sat down on the sofa and I poured both of us a cup of tea. I realized that she was sitting in the very spot I had pictured her sitting in the day before, when I um, jerked off. I squeezed my eyes together tightly, hoping that my brain would stop undressing her.
“Where is this from?” she picked up the jar of honey. “There’s a woman in town named Ruth. Her family has bees. That’s where I’ve been learning the trade.”
“Ruth from the flower shop?”
“You know her?”
“Yeah, I met her this morning actually.” She frowned into her cup.
“Was she rude?”
“Oh, no. Nothing like that,” Emma smiled at me. “Tell me more about your bees.”
“Okay, well I don’t have them yet, but—”
“Wait. Let me get my notepad.” She jumped up from the sofa and returned, pen in hand.
I explained the entire honey collection process as best as I could while she scratched down some notes. The glow of the fire was making the shadows dance in the room. Midway through the conversation, she looked up. The wind was now howling. “It’s so quiet here.”
“Quiet? Listen to that wind.” I was confused.
“No, I meant, there are no sounds from your house. No refrigerator running, no furnace blowing hot air. Just the sound of the fire and whatever the hell is going on out there,” she pointed to the door.
“I could put on some music,” I offered.
“No. I mean, it’s nice,” she smiled. In the city, it all becomes white noise. You don’t realize it’s there until it’s gone,” she mused. We both paused and looked around the room, soaking in the silence. I was used to being here alone, so it was nice to have the contrast of another person’s voice. I wanted to reach out and hold her hand. I stared at the teapot, the urge to sleep with a woman had come and gone over the years, but the desire to touch someone tenderly, this was new. I glanced at her, she was staring at the fire, a faraway look in her eye. A strand of her blonde hair had fallen from her ponytail and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to reach over and brush it behind her ear. She took a sip of her tea and then glanced over to me, her green eyes holding my gaze which was not helping the situation. I no longer wanted to brush her hair behind her ear. I wanted to slip my hand behind her neck and feel her pink lips on mine.
I shouldn’t have brought her here. This was a temptation I did not need. I had gone this far without needing the company of a woman, if I gave in now, I could be starting from scratch all over again.
“What?” she whispered. I widened my eyes and snapped them from her gaze. I realized
that we had just been staring at each other.
“I have something to tell you,” I rubbed my hands on my canvas pants. I didn’t usually wear them inside, but it seemed rude to sit around in my long underwear with this beautiful stranger.
She whipped her head to face me. “Yes, what is it?”
“I-I lied to you.”
She smiled. “Go on.”
“I feel terrible,” I ran my hands through my hair.
“What is it?” she reached out and slipped her hand into mine. “You can tell me.” She squeezed my hand encouragingly.
I took a deep breath, she was smiling now, why was I about to ruin it?
She squeezed my hand again. “You can trust me,” she whispered.
Chapter 9 – Emma
I COULDN’T BELIEVE my luck. Was he about to tell me everything? This assignment was going to be done in a flash. He was going to admit that he wasn’t the hermit Jack... that he was Chase Titan. I could tell him that I was there to find him. I still wasn’t sure how that conversation was going to go down, but I knew I would figure it out. As I squeezed his calloused hand, I realized that part of me was disappointed. Being with Chase had been fun, and he wasn’t hard to look at either. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt the rush of adrenaline that comes with being around a man that makes you weak in the knees.
The cabin had been so silent and I wondered if he could hear my heart pounding every time he looked at me with those arctic blue eyes of his. I had to keep it professional, but part of me wondered if I would be able to if he leaned over and kissed me. Would I be able to resist those big hands running up my sides as he pulled my shirt over my head, tickling my breasts with his beard while he kissed my neck?
Oh, my God. Stop it, Emma. I shook my head slightly. “Go on,” I urged and smiled at him. Getting this conversation out of the way was going to make everything so much easier.
He pulled his knee up onto the sofa as he turned to face me. “I feel terrible and I need to be honest with you.”
Oh, come on, out with it. I urged in my head but kept smiling and nodding at him.