The Dawson men weren’t made for long-term relationships. His dad and granddad had taught him that. He’d promised himself when Hank divorced his second wife and married his third that he would never sign up for the institution. There was a reason they called it an institution. In his experience, marriage drove some men to a level of insanity that was hard to come back from.
Marriage was fine for some people. He’d seen how certain couples flourished, grew together, became stronger. But he was too much of a Dawson. If he ever married, it would end in disaster and then he’d be like his dad working himself to the bone to cover the alimony checks.
While the idea of marriage to Catriona produced a warmth in his chest—to know she was his, that she’d be there in his bed, in his life, the mother of his children—and tempted him into tossing the promise he’d made years ago into the trash, he couldn’t. If it didn’t work out—and the odds were in favor of it not—it would kill him to watch her leave, hating him.
It was better to push her away now before their hearts were anymore entwined.
The key to that, he had to stay away from her. It would be hard with her right across the street, but that didn’t mean he had to walk across that street. He needed to treat that stretch of road as an uncrossable crevasse, a treacherous drop resulting in his certain death.
Regardless of all that he told himself, the euphoric expression on Cat’s face when she’d climaxed followed him into his dreams, tormenting him, and leaving him aching and exhausted when he awoke the next day.
Today was a hockey day, blessedly giving him a breather and a way to work out his frustrations. There would only be a few games left before Break Up arrived—the term Alaskans used to describe the turbulent season of spring as it rushed in like a thundering herd of caribou.
There might be a game here and there when he and the guys were stir crazy enough to drive into Fairbanks and skate at the Big Dipper indoor rink. Heartbreak didn’t have an indoor rink, yet, just the high school outdoor rinks. Hank was working on a year-round facility, but he needed more investors before it became a reality. For now, his ragtag team played pond hockey, more challenging than on a rink that was routinely resurfaced with a Zamboni.
The outlying areas of Heartbreak consisted of many lakes and ponds, most heated and never freezing due to the underground hot springs. It was one of the reasons Heartbreak hadn’t disappeared like so many other gold mining towns, when the miners had exhausted the riches and packed up and left. Year-round hot water was almost as precious as gold in a climate that tested humans with months of negative forty degrees, and on those rare—thank, God—hellish occasions when it dipped even lower. The coldest Avery had experienced was negative seventy-five, and he hoped he never suffered those temps again.
He drove out of town about ten miles to Puck Pond, shortened from Pupchik Pond, named after Feliks Pupchik, a Russian fur trader who, as the legend went, died of a broken heart when the woman he loved ran off to San Francisco with a gold miner who had struck it rich. Hence the name of Heartbreak, Alaska, had been born.
Ash Bleu, Bart Bruhn, Ryder and Dare Wilde, and Alaska State Trooper Trip Hunter were already there donning their gear at the back of Ash’s SUV. Dare’s black-and-white husky Eska bounded around the area sniffing out rabbits in the underbrush, using her muzzle to plow in the deep snow.
One drawback about living above the Pump House, it kept him from getting a dog like Eska. Someday he hoped to have a spread big enough for a large dog, or two or three.
Ash, Bart, and Avery had graduated the same year in high school, while Ryder, Dare, and Trip were a few years behind them.
“What kind of torture do you have planned for us today?” Ryder asked, buckling the strap on his helmet.
“We’re playing against a few of the kids I coach on the high school team.” One of them being his brother, Drew, who had a wicked slap shot. If Drew applied himself, Avery could see him going all the way to the NHL. A skirmish had been set up for today, pitting five of the quick and tenacious teenagers against the older, more seasoned twenty-somethings.
“Good, I’m the frame of mind to educate,” Bart said, his wide grin spreading his Tom Selleck mustache. The man was a bear, topping at over six-four with linebacker shoulders. Getting checked by him was something you never forgot, if you recovered. Bart had played football in high school and was late to the game of hockey. In Alaska, football only lasted a few months, while hockey could be played most of the year. Once school had ended, Bart had begged to play. He was slower than the rest of them, and his passing of the puck was hit and missed, but he made up for it in sheer size and determination.
“Don’t get cocky,” Avery cautioned. “These kids will make you work for the win.” He’d coached them since junior high, and they continued to improve with speed and accuracy.
“We’re not half bad ourselves,” Trip commented, taping the handle of his stick.
“These guys are fast,” Avery said. “You might want to stretch.”
“Next, he’ll have us doing yoga,” Ash said.
The mention of yoga had thoughts of Catriona crowding in and how she’d easily wrapped her legs around him last night.
Damn it—she didn’t belong here.
Hockey was for working out his aggression. He counted on it, more so today than he had in a long time.
“You know, yoga isn’t a bad idea,” Dare said. “Cat’s taught me a few things. When I’m racing, doing yoga as part of my training helps a ton.”
“Of course, you would be a fan of the downward dog,” Ryder snickered. The men ribbed Dare, and he took it good naturedly like he did everything. His twin Ryder had the hotter temper of the two. Half the year they were identical, but in winter, Dare grew a beard to help protect his face from the elements when running his sled dogs and competing. While Ryder never let more than a little scruff appear on his face. He didn’t want to “burn” the ladies’ delicate skin, at least not in that way, he was known to joke.
“Are you still seeing Leia?” Avery asked. He didn’t know why the question popped out. If he thought about it, he’d have kept his mouth shut. It was widely known that Sorene and Leia were arch enemies. Leia had teased Sorene mercilessly all her growing up years and had driven a wedge between Sorene and Ash that had taken ten years to find out it had all been lies.
“You need to be careful of that one,” Ash cautioned.
Ryder’s expression hardened. “I thought we were here to play hockey and not dissect our love lives. Hell, with the mention of yoga, next you’ll want to braid each other’s hair.”
“How’s the lake house coming?” Dare asked Ash, changing the subject.
“We just installed the cabinets,” Ash said. “You should see what Sorene did. She carved a wilderness scene in the upper cabinet doors. She’s outdone herself. I have a friend at Home and Garden Magazine. I’ve sent him some preliminary pictures, and he wants to feature the house in the magazine as soon as we have it wrapped up. Don’t tell Sorene. I want it to be a surprise.”
“You’re marrying one talented woman,” Trip said.
“Hot and smart too,” Bart added wistfully.
“That goes without saying.” Ash narrowed his eyes at Bart, who’d admitted to Ash that he carried a torch for Sorene.
“Sorene agree to a wedding date yet?” Avery asked, taking a page out of Dare’s playbook and trying to get the conversation onto firmer ground. It was enough that they would be skating on ice.
“She refuses to consider any dates until the house is finished,” Ash replied. “One project at a time, she says.”
“Tunnel vision, that’s our sister,” Ryder said.
Which spoke a lot to why Sorene had broken off her and Ash’s relationship when her mother died and she’d been left to help raise her six siblings.
Avery had always respected Sorene. He, Ash, and Sorene had been in the same grade in high school, and he’d even asked her out once upon a time, but she’d only had eyes for Ash.
Would he always have this need for Cat? God, he hoped not. Before he’d taken her out, he’d casually dated and enjoyed time with women of all ages and sizes. Women were a wonder, one that he hoped never to get tired of. But since dating Cat, other women seemed pointless, shallow, and lacking.
None of them were Cat.
Damn it, he needed to get her out of his head. Taking off his skate guards he pushed off the ice and skated around the pond, picking up speed, heating his muscles before the game began.
“Hey, old man.” Drew slid up next to him. “You guys are going down.”
“What have I told you about overconfidence, young grasshopper?”
“I can hear your bones creaking from across the pond,” Drew taunted.
He didn’t like how close to the truth Drew had hit. “Have you thought anymore about working at the Pump House.”
“I have. Consider me your new dishwasher.”
A smile split Avery’s face, and pride for his brother puffed out his chest. “You’ll be low man on the totem pole, and you’ll have to take orders from me.”
“So just like at home. I think I can handle it.”
“Smart ass.” He affectionately pushed at Drew’s shoulder with his huge glove.
“Ass hat,” Drew replied, repeating the nicknames they had developed for each other years ago.
Avery laughed, the cold air slapping at his heated face, and felt his worries slide away. What followed was a brutal game, leaving the older group bruised and bloody in places. Trip had a split lip, Ryder and Dare sported bloody noses, and Avery sported a cut on his cheek, while Bart didn’t have a mark on him.
It hadn’t been an easy win, the over-twenty team had fought for it and had the battle scars to prove it, while the cocky teenagers had learned a few lessons, which is what he’d hoped would happen today.
“I know we won, but I feel like we got our asses kicked,” Ryder said, wiping at his sore nose. “You coach those heathens?”
“Damn right, I do,” Avery said, pride in his voice over how his kids played.
“I might need some coaching from you if we’re going to continue playing the youngsters,” Dare added.
“Hell,” Trip said. “A few practices wouldn’t be out of the question either. I’m going to feel this tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Bart rubbed at his chest where he’d sacrificed his body to prevent Drew from scoring. “I’m feeling it right now. Drew has got a killer slap shot. It’s going to leave a mark.”
“If you need to move some muscles, we’re tearing down a wall in Cat’s new place later today,” Ryder said, indicating him and Dare.
“Tearing down a wall?” Avery asked. What was Cat planning over there?
“Yeah,” Dare added. “She wants the two rooms upstairs to be one large one so that she can teach yoga.” Dare ruffled Eska’s ears when she returned from her escapades to sit at his feet.
“Speaking of Cat, we’d better get a move on or she’ll have our ass. Same time next week?” Ryder asked.
“You got it.” Avery packed up his gear and tossed the hockey bag in the back of his pickup.
“Wait,” Dare asked. “Who we playing next week?”
“The over-forty team.”
“Now you’re talking,” Trip said.
“Hold on, we’ll be playing against our dads,” Ryder pointed out.
“Well, shit,” Bart said. “We’ll definitely need a practice or two.”
Chapter 11
“Sorene, this kitchen is stunning. You’ve outdone yourself.” Catriona marveled at her sister’s talent with chisels and chainsaws. She’d carved a wilderness mural depicting all the animals of the Interior traveling across the upper cabinet doors.
“I’m really happy with how it turned out.” Sorene beamed, hooking her thumbs through the straps of her overalls, her basic uniform. Cat rarely saw her out of the Carhartt’s. But then any other type of clothes wouldn’t hold up in Sorene’s line of work.
“I wanted to ask if you would make something for the shop,” Cat asked.
“I’d be happy to. What do you need?”
“Anything that you want to make I’ll take and sell.”
“Sell?” Sorene blanched.
“Yes, sell. You need to showcase your work, and I’d be honored if you would pick my shop to do it in.”
“I never thought of selling my work in a shop.” She bit her lower lip. “But I like the idea. I could do some small stuff and see how it goes.”
“I’d love some of your larger chainsaw pieces for the porch.”
“As soon as I finish with the house, I’ll get started. How are things with the new place?”
“I love it. I wish I had jumped into this sooner.”
“How is it being across the street from Dawson?”
Something must have shown on her face when Sorene mentioned Avery’s name because she laid a hand on Cat’s shoulder. “That bad, huh? Want to talk about it?”
Before Cat knew it, they were sitting at a makeshift table made of a sheet of plywood and sawhorses, drinking instant coffee. Cat unloaded, filling Sorene in on everything that had happened recently between her and Avery.
“Wow.” Sorene sat back in her folding chair. “You have a problem.”
“That’s all you have? I have a problem? That much I know. I need advice, some direction. You’ve always been great at telling me what to do most of my life, where is that sister?”
There were three and a half years between Sorene and her. Sorene was the oldest of the Wilde Clan with Kennadee born eleven months after. Catriona had the privilege of being in the middle of the pack, while Sorene had been shouldered with responsibility from an early age as Dad and Mom kept creating kid after kid. Since the twins were born right after Cat, most of the attention went to them because they required a lot of supervision, and that had left her somewhat forgotten. When she’d turned twelve, she’d loved that aspect of her family placement. As long as she didn’t cause trouble, she was left to do pretty much what she wanted. But today she needed someone to steer her in the right direction.
“Do you love him?” Sorene asked.
“Ugh, I don’t know. Maybe. I might if he would stop being such an ass. I don’t want to want him. Not when he doesn’t want me.”
“It doesn’t sound like that’s the case. He wants you.”
“So why doesn’t he take me?”
“You want to be taken?”
“I don’t know,” she whined. If she’d been asked that question last night, she would’ve answered with a resounding yes, but now she was glad they hadn’t gone any further. Her heart would truly be his if she slept with him. Besides, she was mad at him. Mad that he’d dropped her two years ago without telling her what she’d done wrong. If she knew what the problem was, she could work on it, but not knowing what had messed everything up, left her in a state of confusion and anger. Mad was much easier to deal with than this yearning and resulting heartache. It wasn’t like her to hold a grudge or to hang onto negative emotions like this and she didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
Sorene stood and gathered up the paper coffee cups. “We need to get going if we’re going to meet the men at your place.”
Cat glanced at her phone, noting the time. “Crap, I’d planned to stop and order delivery from Flatliner Pizza for everyone.”
“Just order pizza from the Pump House. Dawson’s pizza is much better than Flatliner’s anyway.”
That’s what she’d been trying to avoid. The Pump House pizza was better than Flatliner’s, and most likely she’d hear about it from her brothers if she didn’t get pizza from the Pump House. Dang it, she’d have to swallow her pride or anxiety where Avery was concerned and place the order at the Pump House.
“You know,” Sorene slipped her coat on. “I do have some advice for you. Dawson wants you. You want him. In order to find out what’s up with him, you need to remind him of what he t
hrew away.”
“I tried that with flaunting all my dates in front of him. It didn’t work.”
“Don’t try and make him jealous. He’s a smart man. He would’ve seen through your act. What if you show him what he’s given up by constantly being underfoot?”
“I’m not a masochist.”
“That’s not what I mean. You are a beautiful, talented, and successful woman. You have a lot to offer someone. A lot to offer him.”
“You’re saying I should kill him with kindness?”
“You said you hated feeling confused.” A twinkle entered Sorene’s wild green eyes. “I bet he’d hate it too.”
Chapter 12
Driving to her place to meet up with her family for demolition day, Sorene’s words ran on a loop in Catriona’s head. A plan of sorts started to form.
She’d shelve her hurt. Lord knew it wouldn’t gain her anything to hold onto it. Losing the negative feelings and opening herself to the positive is what she taught in her yoga classes. She needed to take her own advice.
She parked in front of her shop and then walked across the street to place her pizza order in person, wishing she’d taken more time with her appearance.
She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail and wore work jeans and another nondescript t-shirt which at one time had belonged to one of her sisters. Her long, black, wool coat covered up the casual outfit, giving her confidence that she didn’t look too dumpy. Pulling open the door, she strode in, giving her hips a little more sway than normal.
Avery stood behind the bar, where he ran the business much like a captain at the wheel of a ship. His dark hair was wet from a recent shower, and a small butterfly bandage covered a cut on his cheek. She knew from Ryder that they’d played pond hockey earlier. One of these times she wanted to watch him play. She’d caught him in high school where he’d played the celebrated center position. He’d been a senior while she was a sophomore. Even then she’d had stars in her eyes over him and had covertly noticed everything he’d done. He’d been imposing then, now he literally made her mouth water.
Wild Cat (Alaska Wild Nights Book 2) Page 5
