by Nicole Snow
I didn’t see it then.
Not even when she’d tried to start a brawling fight on my parents’ front lawn—and I was so pissed at them, thinking they were trying to take over my life instead of looking out for what was best for me and my son.
They weren’t the ones who convinced me in the end.
Nah.
That was Katelyn herself, and she did it in the worst way possible.
Years Ago
I’m still hoping this mine isn’t tapped out.
It’s a thin, fragile thread hanging on as I look over the survey maps, settled in late at night in my office, staring at them over and over again by the harsh lamplight until my eyes burn like they’re being pumped with smoke.
Shit.
The harder I look, the more I think I’ll have to accept the bitter truth.
This mine’s dead.
Dragging a hand over my face, I glance at the clock. Almost midnight.
I don’t have to worry about getting home. Not when Eli’s with his mother tonight, my ex, but I should stop sitting here staring at nothing like it’s going to magically resolve into better news than the kind I’ve been fighting off for a horrible eternity.
My body creaks, and bones ache with how long I’ve sat here as I rise to my feet and reach for my jacket—before freezing as my desk phone rings.
Who’d be calling at this time of night?
I snag the receiver, lifting it to my ear.
“Charter.”
“Paxton?” My mother’s breathless voice—and the panic in her tone—makes my body stiffen. “Why haven’t you been answering your cell? I’ve been calling for hours!”
“What?” I pull my cell from my jeans—and realize it died while I was staring at that survey map from hell. Shit. “I’m sorry, Ma. The battery died. What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“There’s...there’s been an accident with Eli. The park rangers tried calling you, but when they couldn’t reach you, they called me and—”
“Stop—back up. What accident?” I snap off. My heart’s stalled, every inch of me iced over. My worst fears play through my head: Eli dead, Eli drowned, Eli injured so badly there’s hardly any life left for him at all. “What happened to Elijah? Is he hurt?”
Her pause fucking kills me.
“We...we don’t know,” Mom gasps. “He’s missing. And that bitch isn’t even sober enough to really tell us what happened. But he needs you, Paxton. If anyone can find him, it’s you.”
I don’t even realize I’m moving till I’m yanking up short on the tether of the phone cord.
“I’m on my way,” I say. “Let me charge my cell, and I’ll call you right back. Need you to tell me where he’s at. Tell me everything you know.”
I hang up without waiting for a response, nearly flinging it into the cradle and charging outside under the night sky, barreling toward my Jeep.
Hurling the door open, I throw myself inside, shove my phone onto the car charger, and go ripping out into the night.
Within a few minutes I’ve got enough charge to call my mother back.
Directions. Details. While I test a few speed limits and pray I’m not too late.
And I don’t think I’ve ever burned with a hatred deeper than what I’m feeling for my ex-wife in this red-hot moment.
Katelyn took Eli to the park, but she also brought a few other friends.
Namely, her new boyfriend and several forties.
While she got wasted and fucked around, Eli wandered off into the trees. In a wilderness preserve filled with roaming grizzly bears, moose, wolves, the works.
A massive yawning wilderness preserve with acres upon acres of virgin forest, practically uncharted land. The kind where it could take days to cover every square inch and find a small child who could be dying of exposure in some hidden hollow just yards away from search teams, dehydrated and starving and too weak to even call out for help.
My imagination’s already painted a picture of how my son will die—and the holy hell I’ll visit on Katelyn if he does.
Halfway to the park, another call cuts in, and I damn near jump out of my skin.
I put my mother on hold and swipe over with a breathless, “Hello?”
“Mr. Charter? This is Ranger Stephenson. We’ve found your son, Elijah. He’s unharmed, just a little scared and scratched up. You can come get him at...”
That voice fades into white noise.
I vaguely realize he’s directing me to a hospital close by, and I adjust my course.
Above all else, I’m sobbing like a baby.
Whimpering and broke with sheer gut-wrenching relief.
He’s okay.
I can’t believe he’s okay.
They found him. Catastrophe narrowly averted.
I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Eli.
I just know one thing.
I’m never trusting Katelyn with him again.
No matter what I have to do, I’ll get full custody of my son, and make sure she can never endanger him with her reckless schoolyard bullshit again.
One way or another, he’s staying with me.
Nothing on heaven or earth will ever stop me from keeping my boy safe.
Present
I can still taste the adrenaline of that scare years later and thousands of miles away from Alaska under a warm Montana sun.
Eli’s excited shouts echo through the trees, bright and happy and announcing everything’s okay.
It doesn’t change the ache in my chest, the bitter memory of how I almost lost him for good.
Katelyn’s long gone. She can’t hurt him—or me—anymore.
Even so, she’s the reason why I have to be careful.
To make sure I’m a trillion percent confident of anyone I invite into Eli’s life, when one wrong choice could put him in danger all over again.
Just how dangerous could Felicity be? I wonder darkly.
Sure, she’s got her secrets. There’s her old man’s gold that clearly came from somewhere shady, and she’s got some hard choices to make about what to do with it. But those are her dad’s problems, and once she gets out from under his shadow, what then?
I could help her, couldn’t I?
Help her get that mess sorted.
I want to help her, dammit, regardless of how I’m starting to feel about her.
She deserves someone loyal.
Someone to care for her, to reach out when she’s feeling down and offer her a leg up. Or a swift, crushing kick to the nuts for anyone foolish enough to come after her.
I want to give her that as a friend, no damn doubt about it.
I also want to find out if there’s room in her life—and mine—for something more than friendship, too.
If maybe, once she’s swept the chaos out of her life, she could open up and make room for us.
I’m so wrapped up in my swirling thoughts that I don’t even realize I’m not alone.
I should be, even if this is a public park. We’re pretty deep in the woods where the bike trails start.
I’d seen a few other families out with their dogs and kids, but the leaves crunching behind me have an ominous crackle. Squaring my shoulders, I whip around and spot who’s coming up behind me.
And my jaw almost hits the ground.
The last person I expect to turn around and see is Gavin Shitting Coakley.
Dukes up.
I’m instantly on guard, fists clenched, as I take a defensive step backward. My eyes rake over him, wondering if he’s armed.
“Hey, Pax—whoa, no fighting,” he says quickly, holding both hands up high. “C’mon, Charter. I don’t have anything white but my boxers. Don’t make me take ’em off to wave surrender.”
I eye him warily.
Those jokes used to be common between us, back when we were actually friends. Those days are long gone, and reburied when he came plowing a fist at my face.
He’s not glaring at me right now, though.
That accu
satory look is gone, leaving a weary, hangdog sense of defeat he wears around him like an aura.
Slowly, I lower my arms—still keeping a good distance between us.
“What the hell do you want, Gavin?” I spit.
“Goddamn, man. You’re not gonna make this easy, huh?” He looks away, scrubbing a hand against the back of his neck, and mutters something under his breath.
“You’re gonna have to try that again. I didn’t bring my hearing aid.”
“I said I’m sorry, okay?” he snaps, then growls, blowing air out sharply. “Fuck. It’s hard to say it, okay? I’m fucking sorry. I screwed up, the way I came at you.”
“That’s the only thing you want to apologize for?” I snarl back. “There’s also stalking. Theft. Getting us arrested. Plus, scaring the shit out of my boy.”
“Aw, hell, I never meant that. Any of it. I’m sorry for everything, okay? Look...you of all people know what happens when a man gets desperate.”
Unfortunately, I do.
I also know there are some things I’d never do, no matter how depraved and hard up I was for money.
I fold my arms over my chest.
“What’s got you so greedy? I paid you off years ago, Gavin. Anything else you did with your money after, that’s your problem.”
“Look, I’d be fine if it was just me, but...dude.” He sighs. It’s a bone-deep grinding, so exhausted it’s like he’s only alive by sheer force of will, everything drained out of him. “There’s this girl...”
“Uh-huh.”
“Ashley, that’s her name.” The way he smiles is a look I’ve never seen on his face. Soft, soppy, his eyes darkening and warming as he stares off to the side. “We got to fooling around one night after meeting at this bar. We made a mistake. She’s gonna have my kid, Pax. And I’m in no place to support a woman and a baby. So I’ve been trying to dig my way out of this, and well...you seem to be doing just fine in Podunk, Montana.”
Damn.
If there’s one thing that’ll stop me from running him out of here at the other end of the sharpest branch I can find, it’s understanding the urge to do anything to make sure your kid’s okay.
I curse, dragging a hand over my face, and look away.
“I’m doing okay because I work. It’s a thing. You get up every day and clock in, do the job, go home, and get paid. Should try it instead of looking for another get-rich-quick scheme or, you know, trying to rob people. You’re pretty shitty at it,” I grumble.
“I am!” he flares, nostrils widening and jaw setting. “The hell you think I’m here talking to you for? You think I’d swallow my pride for anything else? There’s no work back in Fairbanks, man. Or anywhere else where I’m qualified to hire on. Thing is, I hear that construction crew you’re with pays mighty well.”
Oh, no.
Hell no.
No frigging way I’m letting my less than admirable past get tangled up in Holt’s present.
Holt’s not just my boss. He’s my friend—a far more honorable friend than Gavin ever was—and he’s fought too hard to make things right for me to drag him over to the dark side.
“I don’t think you’d be a good fit,” I bite off.
“I don’t have to be.” Instead of getting angry, Gavin just gives me that world weary look again. “Just a few months. One season. Just enough to get a little scratch under my belt to start over. I swear I’ll keep looking for postings up in Fairbanks in the meantime, but I need money. Later won’t help my girl or my kid here in the now.”
Fuck my life.
I hate that I’m so soft sometimes.
Trouble is, he really looks like a broken man. And the Gavin I knew never would’ve attacked me that way unless he was desperate, I tell myself, no matter how sour things went between us.
He must be telling the truth, or else I’ll have to kick my own ass every which way for what I’m about to say.
“Can’t make you any promises,” I mutter warily. “But I’ll make a phone call—one time—and put a word in with the boss. You’ve still got to interview and prove to him you can do the job.”
Gavin perks, his eyes lighting in a way that tells me maybe I did a good deed.
Maybe I made the right decision.
“That’s all I need,” he says breathlessly. “Just a chance. I’ll do the rest myself.” His lips split into a grin. “Thanks, Pax. You always were a good guy.”
Pax.
That nickname feels like an old name better suited for an old life, but I let it slide off me.
“Sure,” I say. “No problem.”
“You won’t regret it.”
As I watch him moving off along the trails, back toward the main park areas, keeping my eyes glued to him, I swallow a growl.
I hope he’s right.
Something keeps nagging at me, too, long after he’s out of sight.
How did he know to find me here?
The question’s still bothering me by the time the kids tumble into the car, sweaty and dirty and high on preteen adrenaline, for the drive home.
There’s chatter about the summer festival coming up, and although I’m only half tuned in, I catch Eli boasting that he can probably get Tara and Zach free candy from the booth run by The Nest and Sweeter Things—since his dad’s girlfriend will be there, after all.
“Hey, now. Miss Felicity’s not my girlfriend,” I sputter, eyeing the mess of giggling faces in the back in the rearview mirror.
“Oh, come on, Dad,” Eli says slyly, grinning mischievously at Zach.
Tara snickers.
“You sound just like Uncle War and Auntie Hay. They were all...” She twirls her fingers, rolling her eyes. “Oh noooo, I don’t like you at all, you big stupid grumpy-grump.” She beams at me in the mirror, smiling smugly. “And now they’re married and trying to set a record for cute babies.”
“Ugh, my mom and dad were like that, too, even though they’d been together before. I mean, I didn’t get here through asexual reproduction.” Zach lets out a very grown-up sigh, looking at me solemnly in the mirror past his round glasses. He’s a very serious boy, talking like a little adult. “I don’t understand why grown-ups play these games.”
Heavy observation from a smart young man.
Even if I feel like I’m about to explode with embarrassment, I can’t help but laugh.
The kid has no clue the games Felicity and I are playing.
Then again, do we?
We’ve been pretending to date, but that kiss felt pretty real, and I can’t help but wonder what kind of games we’re playing by denying it. Or games I’m playing, rather, when I can’t assume how she feels.
Still, I’d love to know the ground rules.
Maybe the festival would be the time to find out with both of us there.
What’s more romantic than a night out under the stars with fireworks?
15
The Golden Touch (Felicity)
I should be a squishy little pile of misery right now.
So many things towering over my head like an axe that could fall any second. Danger haunting me and always creeping just over my shoulder. My cousin helping guard millions in mystery loot that could get me, her, Alaska, or all three of us killed—with plenty more good people as collateral damage.
But still, somehow, I find my moments.
Simple pleasures.
Right now, my heart bursts with happiness. I’m watching a gorgeous pink and gold sunset strewn on the horizon, just beyond the outskirts of the festival grounds, while Clarissa counts out so much cash we can’t even fit it all in the lockbox we brought for our booth.
It’s been a pretty good day and a fabulous haul.
The joint booth was definitely a stroke of genius.
Despite a few unfinished odds and ends I need to handle, it feels like things are looking up.
Especially when there’s a giant lunk of gorgeous masculinity standing next to me, watching the same sunset with a secretive smile so peaceful and sly it cal
ms my heart just to see it.
He’s like that, you know.
Wherever Alaska goes, he brings his north star serenity with him.
Like there’s nothing that could ever go wrong as long as he’s there to make sure it’ll all be okay.
I want to reach for his hand.
I want more than just his stone-cold calmness rubbing off.
I want his touch to burn this time.
I want to touch him, period, when my lips still remember too well how he feels and tastes and we haven’t talked about that kiss.
No time, no privacy, no...anything, really.
But yes, I’m terrible for wanting to do it again, and to hell with the consequences.
There’s nothing innocent about the way my breath catches and my pulse leaps as he glances at me with a lazy smile.
“Looks like someone had a good time today,” he rumbles, darting me a wink that flays me open.
“I...yeah. Maybe.” Brushing my hair back, I glance over my shoulder with a laugh. “Apparently coffee and chocolate are a pretty addictive duo. We sold out our booth, and we’ll need to bring more for tomorrow.”
“That’s good news. You make amazing stuff, Felicity. More folks should know about it.” He grins, his teeth bright against his thick black beard. “With all the tourists here, they’ll be talking about The Nest all the way in New York before the month’s out. You could go national. Open chains everywhere.”
“I’d call you crazy, but the Sweeter Grind shop in Chicago is doing pretty well with my beans. There’s a billionaire’s wife totally hooked on their cinnamon lattes made with my blend and she’s given them a lot of love online.” I let out a breathless laugh, pressing a hand to my chest. “Honestly, I’ll settle for making rent and having a few bucks to spare in the bank.”
There it is.
That momentary flicker in his eyes, that wordless reminder of what we both know.
That I’m sitting on so much gold I’d never have to worry about anything for the rest of my life.
And ironically, I can’t dare sell off a single bar—not unless I want that life to be far shorter than intended.
