Seduced by Snowfall

by Jennifer Bernard

  “Pretty sure that would be news to Gretel. What about Ian?”

  “Ian.” A giggle ripped through her. “Oh my God, I forgot about Ian. Like, completely forgot about him. Oh no. That’s not good.”

  Nate laughed, making it clear that he didn’t mind at all that she’d forgotten about Ian.

  “Hey, as long as Ian performs the damn cryoblasteroma or whatever it is. Couldn’t you have given me an operation I had half a chance of remembering? Like a lobotomy? Everyone knows about those. And I’m an EMT, I hear medical jargon all the time, but then you had to come up with the most obscure, random-ass procedure, and the next thing I know I’m describing an old episode from Grey’s Anatomy…”

  By now she was laughing so hard, she barely managed to gasp, “Sorry. Really. I’m sorry.”

  “Just so we’re clear,” he said sternly, “I do draw the line at operating on someone’s brain.”

  “Fair enough. I’m going to get some sleep now. I feel like I’ve been awake for about a hundred years. Talk to you tomorrow, Nate. Thanks again.”

  “Good night, sweetie-pie.”

  Still smiling, she ended the call and hauled her exhausted body into her bedroom. Then set her alarm for five o’clock to make it to her morning shift on time.

  It was a new experience having someone on her side while facing down her father. New, and really, really nice. Thank you, Nate Prudhoe.

  Gretel was just getting home when Bethany woke up the next morning.

  “Where the heck have you been?” Half-dressed, Bethany hopped on one foot while she pulled on her long underwear.

  Gretel unwound a long fuchsia scarf from her neck. “Long story. There was a houseboat involved, and a standoff with a mama moose, and a cocktail waitress whose baby had a seizure. Ian’s more fun than you’d think.” She gave a massive yawn. “So what else did I miss? Are you and Nate fake-dating now?”

  “I guess so?” Bethany pulled on a thick ribbed turtleneck.

  “Sorry, that answer is unacceptable. Pick a yes or a no. Either is fine, I just need to know where things stand.”

  “Well, Nate is going to pretend to be my boyfriend, and also he’s going to act like my boyfriend. If that makes sense.”

  “It makes zero sense.”

  “Well, we kissed. And we’re going to do it again.”

  “I knew it!” Gretel spun in the air and performed a little jig. “I knew you and Nate were ogling each other.”

  “No, we weren’t! It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

  “Sure, Bethy. Whatever. You’ll have that man eating out of your hand in no time.”

  Bethany slid her feet into cozy fleece-lined boots. “You’re cute. Just because men fall at your feet like bowling pins—”

  “No time. Trust me. I bet you’ll seduce him by snowfall. Or vice versa.” With another huge yawn, Gretel staggered to the couch and toppled onto it. “Be quiet on your way out.”

  Bethany quietly let herself out into a morning so deep and dark that it might as well still be night. Stars bedazzled the sky with joyful abundance and for the first time in a long time, life didn’t feel like work. It felt like hope.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After all the roller coaster ride of that double date and the Morrison family, Nate felt a sense of relief the next time he saw S.G. A few days earlier, he’d cleared out an old storeroom for her. It had a small window that looked out on the side lawn. It was tiny, but that didn’t bother her. She told Nate that she’d lived in a tiny nook next to the stone hearth, so she was used to small spaces.

  “S.G., there’s something I’ve been wondering about.” He handed her the usual bag of hamburger and fries that he brought every night. He’d also begun including some fruits and vegetables—carrots, radishes, cucumbers, seeing which things she ignored and which she devoured. Tonight he’d brought her a kiwi.

  She peered at it with a mystified expression. “What is this?”

  “It’s called a kiwi. You don’t eat the skin,” he said quickly as she brought it to her mouth. “You peel that off.”

  She shrugged and set it aside, going for the cheeseburger first.

  “I’ve been wondering what made you leave home,” he said almost casually.

  Surprising him, she answered right away. “He died.”

  “King died?”

  “He didn’t come back. I went to look for him and didn’t find him, but I saw a vulture circling. I waited, but he still didn’t come. He leaves sometimes but not for so long. I knew he must be dead.”

  That was news. All this time, Nate had pegged her for a runaway. “So since he was dead, you decided to leave?”

  “Yes. I always wanted to leave, even when he was alive. He was mean.”

  Nate sat on the floor of the storeroom, arms resting on his knees, hands clasped. This was the most chatty S.G. had ever been. Maybe she really was starting to trust him. “Then why didn’t you leave before?”

  “King said it was dangerous. The bears and mountain lions might attack me.”

  “Well, that much is true. The wilderness is a dangerous place. It’s amazing that you survived all that time.”

  She gave him a puzzled frown. “He taught me how. If you’re smart and remember what to do, it’s not dangerous. Bears would never attack me.”

  “Why not?”

  “I can talk to bears. What I mean is, I understand bears,” she told him solemnly. “But they can’t talk. I tried to teach a bear to talk, but they find our language strange.”

  Okay then. One more oddity from Spruce Grouse. But living in Lost Harbor, Nate had seen quite a few strange things, so he didn’t argue.

  “I’m glad you left. It must have been quite a journey to get here.”

  “Yes, it took fourteen days and thirteen nights. I couldn’t use the dog sled because there wasn’t enough snow yet. I let the dogs go free. I thought they might follow me, but they didn’t. I think they went to look for King.”

  For the first time, showing her sadness over her lost dogs, she looked like a child. Most of the time, her manner was that of someone much older and wiser, like a twenty-five-year-old in a kid’s body.

  “I’m sorry about that. I used to have a dog when I was little. He was—” Nate hated talking about Blitzen, so he quickly changed the subject. “How’s that comfrey working?”

  “Good. See?” She tried to get to her feet, but he stopped her with a gesture.

  “Don’t make Bethany mad. Keep off that foot.”

  “Is Bethany coming to see me soon?”

  “Whenever you want her to. Should we give her a call?” He wouldn’t mind getting some time with his new fake-but-with-kissing girlfriend. Kissing was just a first step, after all, like a gateway drug.

  “Caw!” S.G. made a sound like a crow’s call. “A call like that?”

  Nate smothered a laugh. “Not that kind of call. The kind that happens with this.” He pulled out his phone and handed it to her. “It’s a cell phone. I take it King didn’t have one of these?”

  She handled it with fascination. “No. But the machine people do. The firefighters.”

  He’d finally taught her the word “firefighter,” since “machine people” just sounded wrong.

  “Yes, we communicate with them. It’s a way to talk to people in other places. The sound goes through the air in the form of waves. Good God, we need to get you into a school.”

  She shook her head with an adamant no. “I won’t go. I’ll run away.”

  “On crutches? You’d leave all these cheeseburgers behind?”

  “No. School.” Her fierceness made him check to make sure her knife was still properly sheathed.

  “Okay.” He held up both hands. “I won’t mention school again.”

  But with or without school, he knew that something had to change. She couldn’t live in the firehouse storeroom forever. It was probably past time for him to tell Maya or Chief Boone what was going on.

  Before he did that, he’d have to talk S.G. i
nto it. He refused to do anything behind her back. Not only would that completely betray her trust, but it wouldn’t work. He had too much respect for S.G.’s wilderness survival skills. She could disappear at any moment.

  And for some reason, he couldn’t let that happen. He felt responsible for her. If she got hurt, he’d never forgive himself.

  How did he get himself into these things? Nate Prudhoe, protector of a strange runaway and fake-ish boyfriend of a beautiful doctor with confidence issues. Life could really throw some random curves.

  With a five-alarm emergency like Daddy coming to Lost Harbor, Gretel stepped up like a champ. She took Daddy and Gemma to all the most expensive things in Lost Harbor. They booked one of the last flightseeing tours of the season and saw bears trekking across snowy mountainsides preparing for hibernation. She even wheedled Lucas and Megan into taking the Forget Me Not on a late-season fishing trip.

  She dragged them to every year-round restaurant in town and made sure they dropped lots of money at each one. “Supporting the local economy,” she called it.

  In the meantime, Bethany worked double shifts and sorted through scenarios for resolving this ridiculous situation she’d created. Tell the truth? Stage a breakup? Wait them out?

  After two days and a bout of seasickness on the Forget Me Not, Gemma gave up on Alaska and flew back to Connecticut. But Daddy’s gold mine meeting had gotten postponed, so he announced that he was staying for at least two more nights.

  For the sake of her sanity, Bethany signed up for another extra shift.

  When she arrived at the hospital, she spotted one of the fire departments rigs outside the ER. Bethany’s heart beat faster. That meant Nate might be on shift. They might be able to steal a moment together. Working double shifts, she hadn’t seen much of him since they’d agreed to the fake relationship/real kissing plan.

  Quickly, she changed clothes in the empty locker room. She was just locking up her bag when someone cleared his throat.

  Nate lounged against the doorframe, gray eyes smiling at her, hands in his pockets. He wore his LHVFD gear, navy trousers and jacket with insignia, and somehow made the drab uniform ultra-sexy. “I was hoping I’d get a Bethany hit. Save a life, get a kiss, isn’t that how it works?”

  She stepped toward him with the sense that she was floating. “Maybe. Tell me about this life you saved.”

  “Eight-year-old girl with a peanut allergy. We applied adrenaline until she could get an IV. She’s breathing easy now. Her friend who gave her an unauthorized cookie feels terrible.”

  “Hmm, okay. I guess that deserves a reward.” She stood on tiptoe as he leaned his mouth forward, pursed for a kiss. At the last second she veered to the right and plopped it on his dimple instead. “Oops. I missed.”

  He put his hands on her hips and shifted her position so she stood right in front of him. “There. Can’t miss from there, unless you have zero eye-mouth coordination.”

  Smiling, she rose onto her toes again. “There’s a reason I never did sports.” She brushed her lips against his chin, somehow also managing to press her breasts against his chest. The tips of her nipples responded with an exquisite twinge of sensation. “You wouldn’t believe how much money my father poured into tennis lessons. All for nothing.”

  His hand tightened on her hips. The strength of his grip made her insides quiver. Nate’s physicality did something to her on a primal level. “You get one more shot, then I’m taking over.”

  She loved it when Nate took over. Loved it. The few times they’d kissed had already proved that to her. “Are you saying it’s not worth the wait?”

  “I’m saying you’re driving me nuts and I can’t wait another second.” He lifted her in the air and she landed a kiss right on his lips. Electricity streaked through her. Enough messing around, that kiss said. I want you, now.

  A kind of untethered recklessness took hold, as if some hidden part of her had grabbed the steering wheel. She threw herself into the kiss, echoing every bit of his intensity and amping it up even more. With their mouths sealed together, their tongues battled, teeth clicking—not awkwardly, just because they went so deep, so fast. Every stroke of his tongue sparked a fire somewhere else in her body—her nipples, her sex, her lower belly. He made a low growl deep in his chest, and that sound enflamed her even more.

  Her thoughts vaporized into images—naked, hot images. Sweaty bodies and clenching muscles, skilled hands and gleaming eyes. It was all there, every beautiful and exciting thing, right there in the magical forcefield conjured by the two of them.

  By the time she drew away, gasping for breath, she was shocked to discover that at some point she’d climbed him like a tree and her legs were wrapped around his waist. His hands supported her rear and a hard bulge pressed against the space between her thighs.

  “What…” Disoriented, she slid her legs back down to the floor. He kept her steady, even though he was breathing just as fast as she was. “Wow. Sorry about that. I—”

  “Don’t you dare apologize.” His eyes, so dark with desire they looked like twin storm clouds, drilled into hers. “That was what I came here for. That’s what I’ve been fantasizing about ever since our last kiss.”

  The last one had taken place at the firehouse when she’d come to check on S.G. He’d backed her against the ladder truck and kissed her until her head spun. But then his pager had gone off and he’d had to respond to a call. She’d had a very hard time sleeping that night. Tonight was probably going to be more of the same.

  “Me too,” she whispered. “You’ve been really interfering with my sleep.”

  His eyes darkened even further. “Then maybe we should—”

  His pager went off.

  “Damn it! Can’t these people find their own way to the hospital?”

  She laughed at the way he dug his hands into his hair and adjusted his pants, as if trying to wrestle his arousal into submission.

  “You sure complicate my life, lady. Are you busy later?”

  “Working a double shift. Shamelessly avoiding my dad. Gretel’s filling in. But there’s one thing…that golf game you mentioned? My dad is here for another couple of days and he wants to take you up on that golf game.”

  “Of course. He’s in for a shock, though. It ain’t no Connecticut country club.”

  “As long as there’s a golf cart, he’ll be fine.”

  At his expression, she groaned. “Okay, forget the golf cart. As long as there’s gin, he’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll bring provisions,” he promised. “Will you be there?”

  “Oh trust me, I’m not going to abandon you to my dad.”

  “I can handle your father.” He tucked his shirt back under his belt. Apparently she’d practically tried to rip it off him. “I’m here for you, babe.” He grinned at her as he slid his pager back onto his belt. “But only until my pager goes off. So if a suspiciously timed emergency call comes in…”

  “Oooh. I like that idea. Aside from the misuse of the first-responder system, of course.”

  “You’re always such a good girl.” Gently, he cupped her face. “Until the bad girl comes out to play. And by ‘bad’ I mean sexy as hell.” His pager buzzed again, and he strode off to join his crew.

  As always after an encounter with Nate, she went through the rest of her day in a golden cloud of fizzy lust.

  It felt good to let loose now and then. It felt good to not be serious all the time.

  It felt good to choose her own man.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Even though Bethany hated golf, she was actually pretty good at it. It helped that the balls didn’t come flying at her face the way they did in tennis and most other sports.

  Nate led the way to the golf course in his truck, while Bethany rode with her father in his rental SUV. When they reached it—a weather-worn sign announcing the Lost Harbor Golf Course hung on a chain from a post—her father nearly ran off the road.

  “That’s it? Oh Tinkle, this is even worse than I
imagined.”

  She really didn’t want Nate to hear that pathetic nickname. “Can you please not—”

  He interrupted, or more accurately, didn’t hear her. “It looks damn cold out there.

  “We can skip the golf game,” Bethany said quickly. “How about some hot chocolate with marshmallows instead? I mean, gin? There’s a place just out of town—”

  Nate strolled toward them, his golf bag slung over his shoulder, an easy smile on his face. His canvas jacket wasn’t even zipped all the way, and he wore a dark knit watch cap. The cold didn’t seem to bother him at all.

  “If he can handle it, I can. At least his clubs are good.” Now that was a compliment coming from Lloyd Morrison, aficionado of expensive things. “Those look like Callaway Epic irons. Operating on brains must pay well.”

  This was it. Right now, just spit it out. He’s not a brain surgeon. “Actually—”

  But as usual, her father ignored her. He pushed his way out of the car and surveyed the course in his standard master-of-all-he-surveys manner. “So this is it.”

  “It is. Not much, but it does the job,” said Nate. “Are you ready to give it a go? I brought a couple of sets of golf clubs, take your pick.”

  “I’ll take the Callaways.”

  “Good choice.” Nate’s relaxed manner and complete ease with himself made Bethany’s tension lessen. Growing up, she’d seen her father as a kind of god who only noticed her when there was something to criticize. She’d always taken those criticisms to heart.

  If she was being honest with herself, she still did. She dreaded facing her father’s scorn. If she told him the truth about Nate, she’d get a big, horrible, embarrassing dose of it.

  They followed Nate to his truck, where he retrieved another golf bag. “My friend Maya lent me her clubs for the day.”

  Bethany winced as she noticed a sticker on the bag that said “No justice, no peace,” and another one with a Jamaican flag.