by J. H. Croix
God, my mother was freaking amazing. She just couldn’t let herself consider how I might be doing. She wanted me to be the one to gloss this over.
“Mom, it’s not happening. Go ahead and cut me off. I don’t need anything from you. I know it infuriates you, but Gram left me everything.” I was the only grandchild on my father’s side. My grandmother was one of the few people I’d been able to turn to after my life blew up. I’d lost her too, but she’d made sure I could do whatever I wanted by leaving me everything she had. “I’ll be fine on my own. The fact that you keep asking me to do this only drives me further away from you and Dad. Now, I’m getting off the phone. Goodbye.”
I didn’t hear what my mother said next because I just hung up the phone. My hand was shaking so hard as I lowered the phone. I was relieved the bed was right beside me because I lost my grip, and my phone fell on the mattress.
I found out the month before my little boy died that my ex, Pete, had been having an affair with a close friend for over a year. My close friend who worked with me. My ex was my father’s second in command at his high-end investment and property management business in Atlanta. Pete and I were the golden couple or something like that. Our families had shared business interests, and it was supposed to be wonderful that we fell in love and got married. Wonderful, my ass. It turned out to be built on sand.
I’d once been in the thick of it all. I’d been raised to be polite and just do what my family needed. I’d never questioned whether I’d work for my father. My parents weren’t warm and fuzzy, but I’d mistakenly believed they would put my interests first when everything blew up. Ha.
Not at all. Everyone had told me to make nice with Pete, who’d been fucking my friend while our son was dying.
I’d been the primary point of contact for publicity within my family’s business. It had been my job to make things look good and put the best spin on any situation. I couldn’t do that anymore, not when it meant selling out myself.
I took several deep breaths as I paced back and forth in front of the windows. I needed to discharge the toxic energy stirred up by my mother’s call. I didn’t know where I was going after this trip, but I had come to one clear-eyed conclusion since I’d arrived in Alaska.
I wasn’t returning to Atlanta to live. There was nothing to hold me there. There were too many strings trying to tie me to things I needed to break away from. My little boy’s absence was a gaping hole in my life, and a wound in my heart I didn’t think would ever stop bleeding. The only thing I missed from Atlanta was my restaurant.
My parents had referred to it as my “vanity” project. I loved to cook and bake. Without borrowing a single penny from my parents, I’d taken out a loan on my own and opened it. I’d cut back my hours at the family business to make it work. Against the doubts of my parents, my small bakery and café had taken off. I was sensible enough to know a bit of that was luck. Because a bit of every success involved the whimsy of timing and luck.
When Brandon was diagnosed with a rare form of brain cancer, I’d done the research and knew his chances of survival were incredibly poor. At the height of its success, I’d closed my restaurant to spend more time with my son. I didn’t want to miss a minute of the time I could have with him. Those months felt like stolen time. I’d tried to grab the vagaries of fate and yank time to a stop.
I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt a hot tear roll down my cheek, cooling as it moved over my skin. I dragged my sleeve across my cheeks and pondered letting myself cry for hours.
I looked out the windows, across the field of fading pink flowers that I now knew to be fireweed. My eyes lifted over the tops of the spruce trees to the sparkling water of the ocean bay in the distance. I came here for a change of pace, but more than that, I’d come to Alaska to try to figure out what I wanted. I’d needed the span of the continent between my family and me.
Maybe I didn’t have the answer I sought yet, but I knew I didn’t want to sit in this room and cry. I grabbed my fleece jacket and hurried out into the hallway. After I had breakfast, I figured I would take advantage of Cat’s request to go with me to Diamond Creek. She’d talk my ear off, and that was exactly what I needed.
Chapter Eight
Flynn
Three weeks after Daphne’s arrival
“Daphne!” I called.
She turned, and her auburn hair lifted in the breeze. I’d become accustomed to the low hum of electricity that ran through my body like a repeating circuit around her even though I willfully ignored it.
“Yes?” She approached me where I was standing beside my small plane.
In the three weeks Daphne had been here, she stopped wearing blouses and nice boots but somehow still looked like a princess. Today, she wore a pair of jeans that fit like a glove, molding to her toned thighs before disappearing into a pair of hot pink rubber boots with black polka dots. Atop that, she wore a fitted T-shirt that had Kickass Woman emblazoned in pink glitter directly over her breasts. God help me.
“Mind sitting on the wing?” I asked.
“Excuse me?” she countered in a crisp yet incredulous tone.
“Yeah, I need a little weight to lower the back of the plane. I think you’re the perfect size.”
Daphne’s mouth fell open before she snapped it shut quickly. “I don’t even know how to interpret that comment.”
“Just being practical, princess.”
She never said a word to me about it, but I knew it annoyed her when I called her that. I just couldn’t resist getting under her skin. Perhaps it was because she was under my skin all the fucking time, in all the wrong ways. Maybe I should’ve wondered about that, but I tried to avoid thinking too much about Daphne. She invaded my senses so thoroughly, and avoidance was my only escape.
“Happy to help. I just don’t think I can climb up there,” she said as she eyed the plane wing in question.
“Come here,” I replied, gesturing with a hand.
When she stepped closer, I rested my hands at her waist. Mistake. Big mistake. I’d spent three full weeks studiously avoiding getting too close to Daphne. Touching her was like touching a live wire as far as my senses were concerned. Every nerve ending sparked and vibrated to her frequency.
I had no choice but to forge ahead even though I could feel the heat of her skin through her thin cotton T-shirt. I had to clear my throat to speak. “Ready?” I asked, my voice coming out husky.
Daphne’s jade eyes held mine, darkening as we stared at each other. For one completely insane second, I almost kissed her.
What snapped me out of it was when she lifted her chin slightly. She did that whenever she was uncertain about something. Those moments had become less frequent in the time she’d been here. Although she hadn’t shared much, I could’ve guessed she was a city girl through and through.
“Ready,” she whispered. The hitch in that single word sent a tendril of silk around my heart. Sweet hell. It was bad enough to want Daphne. I did not need to feel something for her.
I lifted her quickly, sliding her hips on the plane wing. As I knew it would, the plane dipped down in the back, lowering the back door to make it easier for me to help an elderly passenger in.
Against every ounce of common sense I had, my hands stayed right where they were, curled around her hips. I could feel the soft give of her flesh under my grip. When I looked up, I saw the rapid flutter of her pulse in her neck. My mouth watered. That was how much I wanted to lean forward and taste her skin.
I stepped back abruptly. “Excellent.”
After I helped the elderly woman who’d come to our resort with her adult daughter and son-in-law into the plane and the other two passengers, I turned to help Daphne down off the wing.
I didn’t know if it was better or worse that I tried to steel myself for the jolt of lust I knew would hit me the moment I placed my hands on Daphne again.
Worse, definitely worse. Because my effort was useless, and it only served to remind me just how little contr
ol I had when it came to Daphne.
The moment I set my hands on her hips, her scent drifted to me. For some reason, a hint of sugar clung to her. I’d never thought of anyone as delicious, but that was exactly how I knew Daphne would taste. In more ways than one.
I lifted her swiftly, practically jumping back once her feet were level on the gravel. “You get the view today,” I said as I gestured toward the front of the plane.
“I do?” Her pretty green eyes lit up, and it felt as if another tendril of silk spun around my heart.
I might be cynical, and I might be too damn busy to deal with a woman who was so clearly out of her element, but I loved how expressive Daphne was. Sometime last week, a mama moose and a pair of triplet calves were meandering through the field in front of the resort, and Daphne’s entire face had been awash in wonder and awe.
In an effort to curb my reaction to her, my response came out sharp. “Sure do.”
Rounding the front of my small plane, I opened the door and gestured for her to climb in. Fuck me. As she climbed in, I had a perfect view of her heart-shaped ass. It sent another bolt of need slamming through me.
I was pretty sure she thought I was a fucking asshole since I was easily annoyed and cranky whenever I was around her. All things considered, she was probably right. I was relieved she’d be gone from the resort in another week or so, and I could get back to being normal, as my little sister had pointed out the other day.
Actually, what Cat asked was, “What the hell is wrong with you, Flynn? Can’t you just be normal cranky?”
A few hours later, I had delivered three of my passengers to their next destination at a lodge on the outskirts of Willow Brook, Alaska, and was planning to head straight back home with Daphne. When she asked to go along today because she wanted to see the mountain range again, I’d said yes, thinking we’d have company. I’d inconveniently forgotten our company was only for the first leg of the trip.
While I was making sure the compartment under the plane was properly secured, my cell phone rang. Since we were near Willow Brook, there was decent reception.
I quickly slipped the phone out of my pocket. “Flynn here,” I said.
“Hey Flynn, it’s Nate Fox. Heard you were at the airport in Willow Brook and about to head south.”
“Yep. That’s my flight plan, heading back to my place near Diamond Creek.”
“I need a favor.”
Although Alaska was geographically sprawling, there was a tight-knit sense of community amongst the residents in the small towns scattered across the state. The sense of community was even tighter in some professions, particularly that of bush pilots. We shared a sense of purpose and were often the link for many people to friends, family, supplies, medical treatment, and more.
Although we didn’t see each other very often, I’d known Nate for years. If he needed a favor, I wouldn’t hesitate. And I knew he’d do the same for me.
“Whatever it is, you got it.”
Nate chuckled. “That’s faith, dude.”
“I trust you not to ask me something ridiculous.”
“We have some food and supplies for Henry Stanson waiting for delivery. Do you mind dropping them off at his place on your way?”
Henry owned a remote fishing and hunting lodge between Willow Brook and Diamond Creek. Considering it was only a slight detour, it would be an easy favor.
Less than an hour later, I was maneuvering my plane up into the air with the delivery of food and supplies. The wind was kicking up a bit, and the plane bounced slightly in the air. I glanced toward Daphne, but she seemed completely unruffled.
“You enjoying the view?” I called over the loud rumble of the engine.
Daphne glanced at me with a broad smile on her face. “I love it! Thanks for letting me tag along today.”
My mouth was curling into a smile before I could stop it. “Anytime.”
By the time we landed at the next lodge, the wind was bad. With it being late summer and bumping up against autumn in Alaska, it was getting cooler in the afternoons and evenings. When we climbed out of the plane, the wind was chilly enough that Daphne curled her arms around her waist and stomped her feet on the ground.
“Wow, it got cold fast,” she said over the wind.
We were deep in the Kenai Mountains. As the crow flew, we were roughly an hour away from home and a few thousand feet higher. It was windy enough that I wasn’t sure it was smart to take off again.
Without being asked, Daphne started to help me unload the boxes. Much as she gave off a princess vibe, she didn’t like to be idle. If there was something to do, she was jumping in to do it.
Henry came jogging out of the lodge. “Need some help with those?”
“There are two boxes left in the plane,” I replied, gesturing with my chin over my shoulder.
I’d delivered supplies here before, so I knew to go into Henry’s lodge and hook a right into an industrial-sized storage area for food and goods. Not much later, we stood in the entryway of his lodge.
Henry was a longtime Alaskan. He’d moved here in his twenties and was now pushing eighty. He operated a minimalist fishing lodge, much less luxurious than the resort I ran. Henry’s place was nuts and bolts. He served exclusively those guests who wanted to hunt and fish. There were no viewing tours or any extras.
Due to how long he’d been here, he was also generally unfazed by Alaska’s occasional extreme weather. I grew up here, so not much weather worried me. Being in the south-central part of the state meant we experienced less of the brutal and frigid cold than the northern part, but we got plenty of wind, rain, and snow. The wind could be a ruthless devil when you were in the air in a small plane.
Henry met my eyes. “If I were you, I’d stay put. I just checked the forecast. The wind’s picking up, and the storm’s going to last through the night. Rain and fog are already on the way.”
I knew perfectly well that Henry’s suggestion was the right thing to do. I simply didn’t know how Daphne would feel about an overnight here. When I glanced her way, my eyes collided with hers just as she looked up at me.
A hint of anxiety swirled in the jade green depths of her gaze, but then she lifted her chin. Fuck me. It was getting worse. Whenever she lifted her chin like that, a stubborn little motion, it turned me on.
“Henry’s right. You okay sitting tight for the night?” I asked.
“Of course,” she said, her voice squeaking at the end.
Roughly a half an hour later, Daphne and I stared at each other across the bed.
“It’ll be fine. I’ll sleep on the floor,” she offered.
“You’re not sleeping on the fucking floor, princess,” I replied, my words coming out harsher than I intended. I glanced down at the floor in question. It was hardwood and uninviting. Looking back at her, I shrugged. “I’m not either. We’ll share the bed, and it’ll be fine. I promise I don’t bite. If necessary, you can put some pillows between us. For now, let’s grab something to eat.” I didn’t even wait for her reply as I left the room.
Chapter Nine
Daphne
Flynn’s words echoed in my mind. You’re not sleeping on the fucking floor, princess.
Since the discovery that only one room was available for us to share at this rather utilitarian lodge, my mind had been frantically trying to come up with a way to deal with the situation. My brain was like a hamster on a wheel, spinning and spinning and spinning with nowhere to go.
Now, it was the middle of the night, and I’d awoken to that barrier of pillows completely obliterated. I couldn’t even blame Flynn. I must’ve kicked them out of the way and was now latched on to him like he was my personal teddy bear.
He was warm and hard all over. After weeks of practically salivating and wondering just what his body looked like underneath his clothes, I was now currently plastered against it. Although I couldn’t see it, I most assuredly could feel it.
His arm was wrapped around my back, his big palm curled over my bo
ttom with his fingers almost brushing between my thighs. My hand rested over one of his pecs, and before I could even stop myself, my fingers went exploring. Because I couldn’t help my curiosity.
Oh hell, who was I kidding? In this quiet darkness with the wind rushing at the house in gusts, I felt as if my heart was beating in tune with the storm outside. I wanted Flynn. Life and its messiness had convinced me I might never experience desire again, so the headiness of wanting him was intense.
I hadn’t laid a hand on Flynn until now. Like light suddenly flooding a darkened room when a shade was opened, my desire rushed in where I’d thought I’d lost all capacity for it. My cheeks were so hot I knew my face would be bright pink if anyone could see me. The thaw had begun inside me the very day I’d met Flynn. For more than one night, I’d brought myself to climax with my fingers while imagining him.
Those same fingers traced over his chest and shoulders before mapping lower. Oh wow. He had a true six-pack. I could count the hard ridges with my fingers.
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of his voice, like rough velvet in the night. “What are you doing, Daphne?”
Flynn didn’t move or say anything else, but I could feel his body’s shift to being awake. A subtle tension thrummed through him, and his heart thudded against his ribs. I had no doubt he could feel my heart beating wildly against his side.
“I don’t know,” I lied.
Even though the polite and proper voice in my mind was screaming at me, I didn’t move. It felt as if an electric current was circulating between Flynn and me. Sparks skittered over the surface of my skin, and liquid need slid through my veins. The air was abruptly in short supply in the room. I could hardly get more than a shallow sip in my lungs.
I expected Flynn to notice his hand was cupping my bottom and shove me away. The man had been nothing but distant and cranky with me. At his best, I got something akin to a smile.
