Love In Alaska (The Love In 50 States Series Book 2)

by Gates, Shelby

  “Should I be worried?”

  “Relax,” he said, smiling. His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I told you I'd keep you safe.”

  “While we were flying,” I reminded him. “You didn't say anything about bears.”

  “You don't have to worry about bears,” he said. “One person has been killed on Kodiak Island by a bear.”

  “That's one too many,” I muttered.

  “In seventy years,” he added. “Anyway, we just need to keep our eyes open and take some precautions. Like not cooking near the tent.”

  I sat down next to him. He'd pulled out a few hot dogs and something that looked like a miniature metal pitchfork. He skewered the dogs, then began rotating them slowly over the edge of the flames. Warmth drifted from the fire and I moved in closer, breathing in the scent of woodsmoke.

  “So this is far enough away?” I asked. “From the tent?”

  “It'll do,” he said. He glanced back at the tent. “We don't have a ton of space to play with but we're away from the river and there aren't a lot of edibles around here that would attract them. We'll be fine.”

  “You sound like a true survivalist,” I said, smiling. “Maybe you should try out for that show. What's it called? Naked and Afraid?”

  He laughed loudly. “Uh, no. I prefer roughing it in places I'm familiar with. And keeping my clothes on.”

  I laughed, too. “Especially here.” An involuntary shiver ran through me. “It's getting chilly.”

  He glanced skyward. “Clouds are moving in,” he said. I looked up, too and could just make out the gray sky visible through the trees. “That rain I mentioned earlier? We might be in for a bit of a wet night.”

  I hugged my knees to my chest. “Is that something I should worry about?”

  “Rain?” He kept turning the hot dogs and the smell was making my mouth water. “No. It's not cold enough to snow and there shouldn't be much wind. Just a little rain storm.”

  I opened my mouth to ask more questions, then closed it. I was not going to worry about rain.

  “We may be tent-locked for the rest of the evening.” He wrinkled his nose. “Sorry about that.”

  “Yeah,” I said, leaning back on my hands. “Fix the weather.”

  He laughed. “I just meant it would've been nice to sit out here by the fire in the dark.”

  “So the bears could watch us?”

  “Exactly.” He examined the dogs. “Okay, I think these are good. You wanna grab the buns?

  “I never thought I'd be dying for a hot dog,” I said, “But those smell like steaks to me.”

  There was a small velcro container between us. I unzipped it and pulled out four buns for the four dogs on his pitchfork. I opened one at a time and he deposited a dog in each one. We wolfed them down immediately, two for each of us, and he stuck the remaining four dogs on his pitchfork and held them out over the fire.

  “Okay, confession time,” Evan said, scratching at his chin with his free hand.

  “I'm afraid of bears,” I said automatically.

  He rolled his eyes. “It isn't a confession when it's already been established.”

  “Oh. Hmm.”

  He shifted the roaster to his left hand and grabbed a log with his right. Gently, he places it on the fire. “Why'd you get divorced?”

  “Well, there's a change of subject...”

  “Sorry. I was just trying to make conversation.” He flashed me a smile. “And I was curious.”

  I sighed and leaned back on my hands. “Is there ever a single reason?”

  “No,” he admitted. “So give me three.”

  I thought for a minute. “Three,” I repeated. “Okay. I don't think we were ever really in love. We had nothing in common. And I couldn't talk to him.”

  “Why not?” There was genuine curiosity in his voice.

  “Because I don't think he cared,” I said. There was a pinecone next to me and I picked it up. “Not that I cared what he had to say, either, but I'd at least pretend to listen. He didn't even pretend. So eventually I just stopped talking to him. Talked to my friends instead.”

  He nodded. “It gets quiet at the end, doesn't it?”

  I picked at the pinecone. “Especially when he's fucking someone else.”

  He winced. “Ouch. Sorry.”

  “Don't be,” I said, shaking my head. “We were already done. My ego took a hit, but we were already over. His affair just solidified everything I knee was wrong with our marriage.”

  He stared at the hotdogs. They'd gone from pink to brown, the skins cracking a little. “I actually caught them.”

  “What?”

  He looked at me and smiled. “I caught my wife with her boyfriend or whatever he was. I was in my first year of law school.”

  “Law school?” I made a face. “But you're a pilot.”

  “She wanted me to be a lawyer,” he said. “Didn't want me flying all over the place with some commercial airline so I'd agreed. So dumb.” He shook his head again. “Anyway, it was my third week of classes, but my afternoon one was canceled—professor had appendicitis. Came home and they were on the couch, going at it. Was like a bad movie.”

  “Oh my God,” I said. I'd never caught Brian in the actual act with his colleague. “What did you do?”

  “I laughed,” he said simply. “I literally laughed. The guy jumps up off her, is scrambling for his clothes and I'm standing there in the doorway, my keys in my hand, my backpack on my shoulder, just laughing. Amanda is doing the same thing, trying to grab her clothes, talking a mile a minute, all red-faced and flustered. And I'm just laughing. Dude grabbed his pants and ran past me. Amanda finally got dressed, then got pissed that I wasn't having the reaction she expected.” He smiled and shook his head. “But I didn't know what else to do. We were such a cliché. It felt like a fitting end.”

  “You weren't mad?”

  “Oh, sure, later,” Evan said. “We had a huge fight the next day when I packed up to move out. I called her every name I could think of, told her I hoped they both got hit by trucks. Awful stuff, you know? I regret saying that stuff now...sort of. But, honestly. I wasn't supposed to be married to her. It was like I just needed a massive sign to realize it. And that guy's hairy, naked ass pumping up and down in my living room was it.”

  I giggled, then covered my mouth in horror. “Oh, jeez. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't laugh.”

  “Why not? I did.” He rotated the dogs. “It was funny. And he didn't really have a nice ass, either.”

  I laughed again. I admired that he seemed so okay with it all. Because he did. There was no malice in his voice, no sarcasm or judgment. He'd seemed to totally accept what had happened. It was another piece of the Evan puzzle, another piece I liked and admired.

  “More buns,” he said, nodding at the container.

  We both looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  EIGHT

  The rain rolled in as soon as we finished eating.

  We'd devoured four more hot dogs, two apples and two bottles of water. My stomach was comfortably full but my bladder was ready to burst. The first drops of rain fell and I glanced around the camp site, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do about going to the bathroom.

  Evan grinned knowingly. “Water finally run through you?”

  I nodded.

  He stood, dug something out of his backpack, then disappeared into the woods. A few minutes later, he was back. “You'll be fine back there. About twenty yards back, there's a small stump next to a pine tree. I dug a hole there that you can use.” He handed me an orange trowel. “I recommend drip dry but if you need toilet paper, thee's some in my bag. Once you're done, use the trowel and cover it up.”

  “So I just...squat?” I asked, the heat rising in my face.

  “Unless you know of a better way,” he said. I hesitated and he added, “I'd go now. The weather is gonna get worse before it gets better.”

  I took the trowel from him and headed into the woods, locating the tree an
d the stump and the hole he'd dug in the ground. The soil inside the hole was damp and I wondered if he'd used it first or if the dirt was just naturally moist. I unbuttoned my jeans and, after glancing around to make sure no one was watching, yanked them and my panties down to my ankles. I hovered over the hole, the muscles in my thighs protesting, and quickly peed. I made a mental note to not drink anything more until we got back to town.

  I shook my ass, feeling more like some feral child than a woman backpacking in the woods. I couldn't believe people willingly did this kind of thing. I used the trowel to fill in the hole and hurried back to the campsite. Evan had cleaned up the remains of dinner and was swinging a nylon cord over a branch about fifteen feet above us.

  The rain was a gentle drizzle, just enough to coat my hair with a fine sheen of moisture. “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Hanging our food.”

  “Are we building a treehouse?”

  “No, we're making sure we have breakfast tomorrow. If we leave this down, a bear might have a pretty nice late night snack.” He glanced at me. “You need to change your clothes.”

  I glanced down, horrified that I'd made a mess of myself during my bathroom expedition.

  “The smell,” he explained. “You smell like food. We'll keep them in a bag over here by the fire, just in case.”

  “Camping is harder than I thought,” I muttered.

  “But absolutely worth it,” he added, smiling. “Right?”

  I frowned at him and noticed he'd already changed. He wore olive-colored cargo pants now, along with a dark gray pullover. I unzipped the tent and dug through my bag and changed my clothes. I stepped out of the tent and the rain was steadier, big fat raindrops hissing as they hit the fire. I hurried my clothes over to Evan and he stuffed them in a bag sitting up against the tree where the food was hung.

  “Let's go,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me back to the tent to avoid the deluge.

  He opened the tent and pushed me inside. I sat down on the sleeping bag, trying to keep my muddy boots off of it. He crawled onto his sleeping bag and unlaced his boots.

  “Alright,” he said, catching his breath. “We should be good. Safe.”

  “Should be?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow.

  “I promised to keep you safe,” he reminded me. “So, if they're out in the rain and they smell our food and come closer to the tent, I have one last line of defense.” He rummaged in his bag. “This,” he said, holding up a small black pistol.

  I backed away. “You brought a gun??”

  “Flare gun,” he clarified.

  I sighed and closed my eyes.

  “Relax,” he said, chuckling. “I've never had to use it.”

  I stared at the gun in his hands. I wasn't a gun-hater but I wasn't a card-carrying member of the NRA, either. Outside, the rain pounded the roof of the tent and I suddenly had visions of coyotes and wolves and bears and polar bears all descending on the fabric cocoon we'd wrapped ourselves in.

  “But you know how to use it, right?” I asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  I swallowed hard. “Okay.”

  “We'll be fine, Jess.”

  “No bears or wolves are going to eat us?”

  “There aren't any wolves here,” he told me. “And bears like salmon much better than people. I promise.”

  I stared at him and he just nodded at me, like it was okay to believe him. I didn't like the idea of bears or guns or peeing in a hole, but I did think he was telling me the truth. We would be safe.

  I took off my hiking boots and tried to relax on my sleeping bag. The tent was surprisingly warm but I knew it wasn't going to last, especially with the rain and the sun setting for the night. I hoped the sleeping bag would help ward off the chill.

  Evan was putting the flare gun back in his pack and I watched him. His hair was wet, almost curly instead of wavy, and his cheeks were streaked with dirt. The tent wasn't big and our sleeping bags touched, his leg only inches from mine. Seeing him in such close proximity, knowing neither of us was going anywhere, I had my first sexual thoughts since coming to Alaska. I wondered what his skin felt like and how he tasted and what his body looked like without clothes. What did he like? When did he last have sex...and with whom? What did he sound like?

  He set his pack where his pillow would've been and looked at me. “You're watching me.”

  I shifted my gaze so I was looking at the roof of the tent. “Sorry,” I murmured.

  “I'm not,” he said. He folded his hands behind his head and leaned back. “So, what should we do?”

  I stared at him blankly. “Do?”

  He patted the backpack underneath his head. “I have a deck of cards. Some dice. If you like games. Or we can just talk.”

  “I'm horrible at games,” I told him. “And I like talking to you.”

  He grinned. “Yeah?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay,” he said, readjusting the pack. “Why don't you tell me what happened in Alabama?”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “What happened in Alabama?”

  My pulse quickened and my throat suddenly went dry. How did he know something had happened in Alabama? Was he reading my mind about having sex with him?

  “You went there first, right?” he said, crossing his ankles. “The whole alphabetical order thing. What did you do there?”

  My heart slowed, realizing he didn't know anything. I was just ridiculously paranoid.

  “I stayed at the beach. I was lazy. I did some reading. I swam. Slept in.” I paused. “Nothing terribly exciting.”

  “You just went to one place?”

  I turned on to my side so I was facing him. “Yeah. Perdido Beach, about an hour outside of Mobile. I just crashed there for the week.”

  “Meet any locals there?” he asked. “Any guys offering to fly you around?”

  He asked it as a joke but I felt a twinge of regret in my stomach. Being there with him, I had this nearly painful desire to erase the night I'd spent with Adam. I knew I couldn't, but I was angry with myself that I'd fallen so completely for the charmer I'd met on the beach. Paige would tell me to get over it, that it was why I was on the trip in the first place, but it still rubbed me the wrong way, knowing I'd hooked up with someone like Adam when there were guys like Evan in the world.

  “I met a lot of nice people,” I said evasively.

  He didn't press for details. “So why the change in agenda here? Why decide to explore here?”

  I lifted my leg and pulled at the back of my sock. My blister hadn't popped open but I didn't want the fabric rubbing up against it. “I'm not sure. More to see here, I think.”

  He smiled. “Well, I'm glad that you decided to change it up.”

  I smiled back at him. “Me, too.”

  We listened to the rain for awhile, the inside of the tent growing darker as the sun slipped into the night. It was oddly calming, the steady patter of raindrops on the nylon tarp.

  “Is this what you're gonna do for the rest of your life?” I asked, breaking the silence. I stretched my legs out so they were almost touching his. “Fly. Camp. Explore?”

  He rubbed at his chin and thought for a minute. “I don't know. Maybe. Just depends on what comes along, I guess. I like it here, but I'd probably like other places, too. This was my getaway. It's worked so far but that doesn't mean it always will.”

  I nodded, then stifled a yawn. “Fair enough.”

  He glanced at the watch strapped to his wrist. “We should probably go to sleep,” he said. “We got the food and water part down. Now we need the rest.”

  “I like talking to you,” I said, surprised the words came out of my mouth.

  His eyes lit up and he smiled. “I like talking to you, too.” He pushed himself up on his elbows. “Can I ask you something?”

  I nodded.

  “Was this a date?”

  “What?”

  “Was today a date?” he asked again. “The whole trip and ev
erything?”

  “I don't know,” I said, not sure where he was going. “Does it matter?”

  He sat all the way up. “Kind of.”

  “Why?”

  “Because then I'd know if I should try to give you a goodnight kiss,” he said.

  My heart started tripping like a jackhammer. I'd told myself I wasn't going to rush into Alaska and do what I'd done in Alabama, Paige and her rules for my trip be damned. But I also hadn't planned on Evan.

  “It was a date then,” I told him, a smile on my lips. “Total date.”

  He fought back a smile of his own. “Okay.”

  He moved to his knees and shifted closer so our noses were almost touching. My body tingled. Impulsively, I reached up and touched his cheek.

  “I've never kissed anyone with a beard before,” I whispered.

  “Me, either,” he said, grinning. “Let's see if we can change that for you.”

  He reached up and his hand brushed my cheek, his touch setting my skin on fire. I closed my eyes just as his lips, soft and warm, grazed mine. He didn't rush, didn't try jamming his tongue into my mouth. His lips moved slowly, his tongue tracing my lower lip before he took it his mouth and gently sucked it. I drew a sharp breath and tried to deepen the kiss but he kept me at bay, his kiss like a sweet and heady drug.

  Finally, he pulled away and I tried not to whimper.

  “Wow,” he breathed, his forehead resting against mine.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Wow.”

  His hand slid from my cheek to just behind my ear and his lips found mine again. He kissed me the same way – soft and light, like he wanted it to last forever.

  One of my questions was answered.

  Evan kissed like a world champion.

  He pulled back again and let out a long, ragged breath. “Whoa.”

  I was having a hard time catching my breath, too. “Uh huh.”

  He dropped his hand and shifted away from me.“We need to stop,” he said, rubbing his hands on his thighs.

  “Why?” I couldn't hide my disappointment.

  “Because if we don't, then I look like a total weasel.”