by J. H. Croix
Ella’s eyes made their way back to me, her cheeks still flushed. “It’s still the same,” she commented.
I nodded. “How was your dinner?”
“Delicious of course.”
Ella had opted for a maple glazed salmon burger, while I had enjoyed a King crab melt, the Alaskan version of a crab melt sandwich.
I wasn’t thinking about my words, so what slipped out next surprised me. Although it was the bald truth. “I missed you. I’m glad you’re here to stay.”
She didn’t look away, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. “I missed you too,” she finally said.
“Are you going home after this? To your parents’ place?”
She held my gaze for a beat, the air coming to life between us. She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so.”
At her answer, my pulse quickened, the need I’d been trying to hold at bay rising inside, crashing against the rocks of my discipline. “Let’s go then.”
“Let me run to the restroom.”
She slipped out of her chair. I watched as she walked across the restaurant, her hips swinging with her steps. She’d filled out since high school, her hips and her breasts more lush. As I waited, all the while telling myself I couldn’t just tackle her like a greedy boy, her phone buzzed where it sat in the center of the table. It buzzed again and again and again, one banner after another of texts appearing on the screen. She’d left it face up. My gut pinged. I wasn’t even thinking when I spun the phone around.
Did you think I wouldn’t find your new phone number?
Did you think you could go back to Alaska and get away from me?
Think again.
I can ruin your career.
Distance doesn’t make a difference to me.
You’re a fucking whore.
I gave you a chance to give me a chance.
You’re such a fucking coward.
Fury coiled inside of me. I didn’t know who this was, but whatever was happening was connected to whatever I sensed Ella was hiding. Whoever the hell this was had been making her life miserable, and I would fucking make them pay.
Ella returned to the table before I had a chance to get my anger under control. Her eyes met mine and then flicked to the phone on the table.
“Who is this?” I asked.
Ella sat down quickly, two bright red spots appearing on her cheeks, her eyes widening and fear flashing in them. “It’s nothing. It’s no one.”
“Ella, this isn’t nothing. They’re threatening you.”
Ella stared back at me, her lips tightening into a line and her eyes shuttering. It was similar to the look in her eyes the day we’d broken up when she was still in the hospital after the accident. She had a stubborn streak, especially when she thought she needed help.
I wrestled inside, trying to manage my fury. My anger wasn’t with her. It was with whoever the hell was sending her threatening messages. Shackling my frustration, I forced myself to take a deep breath and reached across the table, catching her hand in mine. “Ella, I don’t want to fight with you on this. If this has something to do with why you came back, just tell me. Hell, tell your father. At least he could maybe help.”
She stared at me, her shoulders rising and falling with a shuddering breath. She didn’t tug her hand loose from mine, but gripped it tightly. Running her free hand through her hair, she sifted the glossy brown locks through her fingers. On the heels of another deep breath, she finally spoke, her voice coming out raspy. “This isn’t the only reason I came home, but it pushed me to make a decision.”
“Who is this?” I asked, pointing at her phone between us, the screen now dark.
“His name is Lance Wallace. He’s a researcher at the same university where I was working in Oregon.”
“And?”
Her hand fell loose from her hair, thunking on the table. She was still gripping mine, so tightly it was as if she was trying to hold on to me. “He wasn’t in my department, but when I started working there, he asked me out. I wasn’t interested, so I said no. I didn’t think anything of it. He never did anything at work, but…” She paused, spinning a ring on her pinkie in circles with her thumb. “I don’t know why, but he was obsessed with me. Somehow he got my personal number and email, and well, this started. I don’t know why. You have to understand. I wasn’t involved with anyone, not the whole time I was working there. But I have friends and he’d send me pictures of me having lunch with friends and pictures of my apartment. I told my director about it, and she tried to help. But nothing worked. He never physically threatened. Just… stuff like this,” she said, gesturing to her phone sitting innocuously between us on the table.
Anger flashed hot inside, but I shoved it away. Right now, Ella was right here, safe with me. “Have you talked to your father?” I asked.
“Not yet. I just told my mother today. She’s going to tell him about it. I talked to the cops down there, and it’s not like they didn’t try to help, but he never made physical threats and he never did anything in person, so there wasn’t anything they could do. He just harassed me by text and email. It makes me feel crazy.”
The anger inside ran hot and then cold. I wanted to know where the hell this guy was. To make it stop. Yet, I knew Ella didn’t need to see how fucking furious I was.
“Mind if I talk to your dad about it?”
Ella’s dad was the chief of police for Willow Brook and had been for years. I liked Rex and respected him. He’d been like a father to me in some ways, if only because I’d spent so much time at their house when Ella and I were dating in high school.
“Of course you can talk to him.” She looked down, staring at her phone. On the heels of another deep breath, she lifted her eyes. “Do we have to keep talking about this? I know you want to fix it because, well, because you’re you,” she said with a little laugh. “But it’s taken over so much of my life. I don’t want it to take over everything here too.”
I absolutely wanted to fix this. Now. But she had a point. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do right this second, other than support her. If she didn’t want to keep talking about it, then we wouldn’t. “I only have one question for now,” I replied.
At her nod, I asked, “You’ve already changed your number, right?”
“Several times,” she said simply, her gaze weary.
Swallowing my frustration and the helplessness I felt because I wanted to kick this guy’s ass, but he wasn’t here for me to do that, I let it go. “I’ll talk to your dad tomorrow, okay?”
I hadn’t seen Ella regularly for a decade, but I knew her very well. I could feel the frustration rolling off of her, the urge to argue the point with me. Yet she didn’t. Even though she’d already said it was okay for me to talk with her father, I knew she wouldn’t want anyone to interfere. But this wasn’t something I was willing to leave alone. Her lips tightened, her eyes narrowed, and then she gave her head a shake. “Fine. Can we talk about something else now?”
Her question was so abrupt with that hint of demanding and bossy. Despite my frustration, I laughed. “Yes. As long as you promise to let any of us know if this keeps up,” I said with a nod towards the poor phone sitting on the table.
Ella rolled her eyes, but she nodded. “As if I could keep it from anyone at this point,” she muttered. “Holly knows, my mom knows, you know, and by tomorrow my dad and Cade will know. I figure now that I’ve left Oregon, he’ll eventually drop it.”
My gut told me otherwise, but I stayed quiet. There was no need to speculate, not right now. “You ready to go?” I asked.
At that rather opportune moment, Janet stopped by our table, dropping off the check and providing a welcome interruption to shift away from the unpleasant topic. “Good to see you two,” she offered, her gaze lingering on Ella. “Promise me you’ll be back soon.”
Ella smiled, the tension leaving her face. “Of course. You have the best coffee in town. You can bet you’ll see me a few times a week.”
Wit
h a satisfied grin, Janet squeezed her shoulder and whirled away, stopping by the table next to us. I tossed enough cash on the table to cover our bill and the tip before standing, never once letting go of Ella’s hand. She glanced to her phone. Actually, glare was more what she did.
“Do you need to use that number?” I asked.
She met my gaze, bitterness flashing in hers. “It gets old changing it, but right now it doesn’t really matter anymore.”
“Why don’t you take my phone? I’ll take this one.”
Ella’s eyes widened, a little laugh escaping. “You want to trade phones?”
“Why not? This isn’t my work phone. I have an on-call one for the station. This way, you can just give everybody my number and I’ll give this guy hell if he keeps bugging you.”
She stared at me for a long moment, a slow smile stretching across her face. After the last few minutes, I was relieved for the tension to dissipate. “Works for me,” she said.
I picked up her phone and slipped mine out of my pocket, handing it over. “Passcode?” I asked.
She recited the numbers, and I quickly opened the screen. I was about to enter my number in her contacts, but grinned when I saw it was already there. “Easy to get in touch. You’re already in my contacts, so just call you when you want to call me.”
I handed my phone to her.
“What’s your passcode?” she asked in return.
“Don’t have one.” I shrugged and caught her hand in mine. “Let’s go.”
“You sure it’s okay I have your phone?” she asked as we started walking out.
“I’m sure.”
“You don’t have, I don’t know, anyone who might want to call you or something…” Her words trailed off.
“If you’re asking if I have some ex who would call or anyone I see casually, no. I wouldn’t be here with you, and I haven’t seen anyone for a while. You don’t need to worry about any random texts showing up, or anything like that.”
We pushed through the door, the bell jingling behind us as we stepped outside. I paused and glanced to her just as the wind gusted across the parking lot, blowing her hair in a swirl. Her cheeks were flushed. Looking up at me, she bit the corner of her bottom lip, an old habit that never failed to get to me. A bolt of lust hit me at the sight of it.
“I mean, not that it matters if you were,” she said.
“It would matter to me,” I replied, angling to face her fully.
Looking up at me, she was quiet for a moment, her eyes searching mine. After a moment, she took a breath and nodded.
Turning, I walked toward my truck to find her mother’s car parked right beside it. “Any plans to get a new car?” I asked, pausing at the back of my truck.
“I need to figure that out, but Mom swears it’s no problem for me to use this. Dad’s been dropping her off at work. I’ll figure it out soon. Anyway, I don’t know where you live,” she said, getting right to the point that mattered.
“Out past Fireweed Lane. Follow me.”
Chapter Eight
Ella
With the wind gusting and leaves skittering across the road and the moon rising above the mountains ahead, I followed Caleb‘s truck. I knew Willow Brook by heart. Fireweed Lane was a few miles beyond downtown with houses scattered amongst the trees and small lakes in the area.
I was curious to see where Caleb lived. Once upon a time when we were silly teenagers, young and in love, we teased about him building a house for us. He was the kind of man who did just about everything. His father was an engineer and had always been in the middle of some sort of project—from simple construction to elaborate projects. Caleb had been raised to do just about everything. It was fair to say most men in Alaska were the quintessential, rugged handymen. Because when you lived on the edge of the wilderness, it was best to be able to do what you needed on your own.
Though I was vaguely aware of the beautiful view of the moon rising above the mountains amidst the last streaks at sunset staining the sky with violet, I was focused on the taillights of Caleb's truck, as if they would lead me to salvation.
Within a few moments, I was rolling to a stop behind his truck. Glancing around, I took in the area. The house sat on a gradual slope. Trees were scattered about with spruce and birch mingling. The slope led down to a stream that meandered along the edge of a grassy field. Denali was behind us here with a clear view of the mountains in the distance.
The house was an octagon shape with gray siding and a purple stainless steel roof. Caleb loved his projects, so I shouldn’t have been surprised he had a home that wasn’t typical. He stepped out of his truck and walked around to meet me. “It’s beautiful here. Nice house.”
His mouth hitched up at one corner, tugging on the strings of my heart and sending flutters spinning in my belly. “Thanks. I built it myself with my father’s help. I got the design from an engineer down in Diamond Creek,” he explained, referring to a small town several hours south of Willow Brook. Diamond Creek was a well-known destination, as it was situated on the pristine waters of Kachemak Bay and had a world-class ski lodge.
“Come on in,” he said, gesturing toward the house. Following him up the steps onto a curved deck, we stepped through a doorway.
Entering into the kitchen, I glanced around. The space felt open and airy with windows on three sides and a wall at the back with a single door. A counter ran along the wall in the kitchen area with a sink and stove there. An island across from it followed the curve of the wall. There were stools along the counter. The living room was beyond that with a sectional couch and a television mounted on the wall to the back. A fireplace tiled with gorgeous river rocks was in between two of the windows.
The walls were painted a soft gray with a few black-and-white photographs mounted throughout the space. Caleb had loved to take photos in high school, and I recognized one in particular of the moon above Swan Lake. A spiral staircase was tucked in the corner just beyond the door in the back wall.
I glanced to him. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks,” he said simply. “You’re seeing just about all of it down here.” Pointing to the door at the back, he continued. “That’s a bathroom and laundry. Come on, I’ll take you upstairs.”
I followed him up the spiral staircase where we came into another open space. There were bookshelves under the windows here with two chairs facing out toward the view. There were two doors against the back wall leading to a small guestroom and a master bedroom with its own bathroom. The furniture throughout the home was modern and comfortable looking with the wood light and most of the fabric sage green.
In his bedroom, a dresser sat against one wall under the windows with a massive bed to one side. An archway led into a bathroom tiled in sage green with a shower enclosed in glass and a luxurious bathtub. Glancing into the shower, I looked back over my shoulder.
“Well, you won’t be saving any water in here,” I offered with a laugh, pointing to the multiple jets mounted on the walls.
Caleb was standing over by the door, his shoulder resting against it and one hand in his pocket. His mouth hitched at the corner, his grin sending my belly into a tizzy of flutters.
“It’s recycled water. The whole house is run on solar and wind power. I can use a lot of water if I want since I’m not wasting any.”
“Really? How’d you work that out?”
“That place in Diamond Creek, Off the Grid, is run by Owen and Ivy Manning. They’re environmental engineers, and their specialty is designing places like this.”
“I didn’t even notice the solar panels on the roof,” I said wonderingly.
“They’re on the back side. I got a deal on the design by volunteering to let them test different wind collection designs for the house. Right now, if you walk through the trees near the house you’ll see a bunch of wind chimes. They’re cute, but they’re busy collecting energy.”
“Oh wow! I’ve heard of Off the Grid, but I completely forgot they relocated to Alaska.”
“I can take you down there to meet them sometime. You’d really like them. Owen’s a great guy, and Ivy’s brilliant. Maybe as brilliant as you,” he said without the slightest bit of sarcasm.
I rolled my eyes, feeling my cheeks heat. “Given what they’ve accomplished, I’m pretty sure she’s more brilliant.”
Caleb shrugged. “So you say. Come on downstairs.”
For a moment, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go back downstairs. In fact, Caleb’s bed looked beyond tempting. While I knew just what I wanted, I didn’t want to rush. Not any of this.
He’d already turned away and was walking back down the spiral staircase, so I followed. When we reached the kitchen, he opened the fridge and glanced over.
“Wine? Beer?”
I shook my head. I was too keyed up to try to wind down. “No thanks.”
At that moment, there was a scratching sound at the door. Stepping away from the refrigerator, he opened the kitchen door. A gigantic cat came dashing through.
The cat was bright orange swirled through with white and close to the size of a small dog. “Hey Creamsicle,” Caleb said, leaning down to pet the cat twining around his ankles. He glanced over to me. “This is Creamsicle. Technically, he owns the house.”
I laughed as I looked down at the aptly named Creamsicle. “He’s huge,” I observed.
Caleb straightened after a last stroke over Creamsicle’s back. “That he is. He’s solid muscle though. He’s got the run of the house and all the property nearby. He’s tough as hell. An eagle tried to pick him up once, and he fought it off.”
Creamsicle ambled over to me with a twirl around my ankles, his purr audible. Leaning over, I scratched his cheeks and ran my hand over his back as he arched up into my touch. “How did you end up with him? It doesn’t seem ideal to have a cat when you’re gone a lot the way you are,” I said, referring to his job as a hotshot firefighter.
Caleb shrugged. “It’s not ideal, but he found me. One day, he showed up on the back porch in the winter, starving and meowing like crazy. I have no idea where he came from. I asked around town, and no one claimed him. My best guess is maybe one of the hunters lost track of him at one of their hunting cabins nearby. I brought him inside that night, fed him, and he’s never left. My parents stop by and feed him when I’m out at fires.”
