Twice in a Blue Moon

by Cate Masters

  “Melanie,” he called after her.

  “No.” God, this better be the way to her room. Her heart beat so hard, it filled her throat. What did I do? Made a complete fool of herself. Buck must be shaking with laughter and ordering another vodka.

  But he did the one thing she wanted most, yet didn’t dare to hope for.

  He followed her.

  * * * *

  Surprise, surprise. Beneath the tough exterior, Melanie Michaels hid a fragile heart, just like him. How incredible was that? How rare? He hadn’t experienced anything like it, not in a way that felt so real. So freaking true.

  And she’s running away. Buck had to find her. Talk to her.

  At the entrance to her room, he stopped short. Shoulders hunched, she stood beside the bed.

  “Melanie.” He said it softly so he wouldn’t startle her.

  When she glanced back, she reminded him of a frightened girl.

  Much as he wanted to enfold her in his arms, he sat on the edge of the bed instead. “Come here.” He patted the fur covering the large, lighted block of ice.

  After a deep breath, she trudged the last few steps and sat stiffly beside him.

  A tad more enthusiasm would’ve been nice. He drew the thick comforter across her and slung his arm behind her. “Closer. Body warmth is critical, remember.”

  Sniffling, she scooted over and pressed against him.

  “There,” he said soothingly. “Not so bad, is it?”

  “No.”

  After a few moments of less than golden silence, he worked up the nerve to ask. “What was Pete like?”

  She shook her head once. At first, he thought she’d refuse to respond, or didn’t know how to.

  “Adorable. Funny. Sensitive. Brave. Thoughtful. Adventurous. Talented, so so talented. He could do anything on the first try like he’d done it all his life.”

  He resisted the urge to say something sarcastic like, Boring guy, huh?

  “So full of life.” She raised her head, finally. “Ironic, isn’t it? Because he died before he could do most of the things we wanted to do.”

  “He sounds like quite a guy.” One to whom Buck must appear pathetic in comparison.

  “Don’t start.” She fished a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose.

  “I mean it. He sounds like someone I’d like to have as a friend. Someone girls would go crazy for.” Again, his polar opposite.

  A smile broke her sadness. “He was. Everyone loved him.”

  “You most of all.”

  She nodded once.

  “Is that why you started your show? You were trying to get away from your past?”

  She sat straighter. “Grief made me crazy. After eight months, I couldn’t stand being without him anymore. One day, I decided to go bungee jumping. I stood on a bridge overlooking a rocky ravine. I was so high up, the stream below was nothing more than a ribbon of glimmer. I stepped to the edge and unfastened the latch on my harness.”

  His breath failed him. “You what? Why?”

  “I didn’t know what I was doing, really. All I knew was, I couldn’t take one more day of waking up, buried under the weight of such pain.”

  Imagining the scene, a shudder ran through him. “What happened?”

  “The jump instructor caught me. Told me I needed help. And something clicked in my head. It all fell into place—I launched the show and kept hurling myself off every possible peak on the planet.”

  She spoke with almost no emotion, as if the story centered on someone else. A stranger.

  “You think No Boundaries is the way to be with him again?”

  “I know it is.” She shifted to face him, enthusiasm making her beam. “Not because I’m trying to kill myself. Not after that first time anyway.”

  “Then why, Melanie?”

  “Because after the jump, or the drop, or the dive, I’m in a space away from reality. Somewhere between where I am and where he is, and we meet in the middle. I can feel him. Sometimes…” She drew back, and the light left her face.

  “Sometimes what?”

  Her laugh sounded sad. “It’ll seem crazy.”

  “What? You see him?” He didn’t believe in spirits hanging around after death. Not really. But she appeared to.

  She looked down at her hands as she plucked at her gloves. “He talks to me. His voice is in my head, but also next to me.”

  And she was still in love with him. Buck had no way to compete with a ghost.

  “I warned you it would sound crazy.”

  “No, not at all.” Not when she said it with such conviction.

  She looked up at him. “You honestly don’t think so?”

  This might be a long conversation. He scooted back against the pillows, the symbolism of the icy waterfall not lost on him. They might both get in over their heads. He motioned her to move beside him. She did, dragging the comforter with her. After she’d settled against his side, he slid an arm around her. “My grandmother talked to my grandfather all the time. He died before I was born.”

  “Did you ask her about it?”

  “Yes. She said the same thing, that she felt him close by. I liked to imagine that he was. That he kept her company so she wouldn’t be lonely.” He stopped believing, but his grandmother never did.

  “How long did it go on?”

  “Until she died. I was in high school.” Way too long for someone to grieve.

  “High school?”

  The surprise in her voice gave him hope. His point had gotten through. Shocked her a little bit.

  His grandmother had spent all that time alone except for their family visits. Right up until the end, Gram kept talking to Gramps. As a teen, Buck had turned skeptical about the whole deal, and pitied her those last weeks before her death, when she constantly spoke to him, insisted that Gramps hung around all the time now. Helping her get ready for their big trip, she said, their last one together. And she’d acted crazy happy about it. But maybe his Gram didn’t suffer delusions, as her doctors claimed, even though she lived a normal life in every other way.

  “That’s a long time.” Melanie offered a weak smile.

  “Much too long.”

  With a sigh, she nestled against him.

  No argument? Another good sign. Maybe Melanie wouldn’t suffer his grandmother’s fate. Maybe she’d let go of Pete. And let someone else in.

  A realization hit him. “So that’s why you’re here. It should have been your anniversary.”

  “Our third. I thought he wanted me to visit.” She tilted back her head to look at him. “But I can’t feel him. He’s been gone for seven months, and he won’t even come to me here.”

  He stroked her cheek. “It’s all right.” Stupid thing to say, but it was the first thing that popped into his head.

  “No, it’s not.” She leaned up and angled toward him.

  He should have known better. She was still heartbroken over her fiancé. She had no room in her life for anyone else.

  Lashes wet with tears, she searched his eyes. “Why didn’t you kiss me?”

  “Pardon?”

  She furrowed her brow. “Don’t play dumb. I threw myself at you, and you acted like I violated you or something. But I didn’t read the signs wrong because you wouldn’t be here now.”

  Whoa. “I…” …don’t know how to respond to blunt honesty.

  “Was it so awful?”

  He wished. “It was incredible, but I—”

  Her lips met his. The jolt of it froze him again. When she began to pull away, he said against her mouth, “No,” and grasped her head to hold her there.

  “No?” she murmured between kisses. “Or yes?”

  “Yes.” To whatever she wanted. He rocked her in his embrace, loving the feel of her in his arms, hating the puffy coats that separated them. The beach thing sounded so much better than a block of ice, even when covered with fur to make a bed.

  Holding her tight,
he rolled back onto the skins, and kept on until she was beneath him. Zippers and down parkas intruded on their kiss, so he slid down onto his side. She hooked a leg behind his. Slight improvement, especially when she tugged the material away from their necks.

  Approaching voices sounded outside. He paused to meet her gaze in a silent question.

  She eased away with a sigh. “The downside of a reality show.” When he scooted away, she grabbed his sleeve. “Where are you going?”

  “They’ll see us together.”

  “So?”

  “You don’t care? What if they’re filming?”

  She shrugged. “Viewers might cheer us on.”

  “Hayden won’t.”

  The cameraman stomped through the doorway. “Almost time for dinner, Mela—”

  Veering away and shielding her eyes, Gina gasped. “Oh God, sorry. You should have warned us.”

  Vic shrugged. “They still have to eat.”

  “True.” Melanie winced at Buck, then brightened. “But we can come back here afterward.” Her grin widened.

  He glanced nervously at the others, who appeared to not share the thrill. Ah hell, who cared? He gave in to a grin. “Okay.”

  Hayden lunged away. Vic gave an awkward wave and followed. Gina shuffled out last.

  He couldn’t resist one more quick kiss. “Eat fast.” The night wouldn’t last long enough.

  She grasped his coat. “I want to know everything about you.”

  “You, too.” Even if it killed him to watch her leave in another day.

  She crawled backward. “I can’t wait. Start telling me now. Where did you grow up?”

  He rolled to the edge. “Moscow.”

  She paused to stare. “Get out. Were your parents foreign ambassadors?” She stepped onto the floor and stood.

  “Moscow, Pennsylvania. In the Poconos.” He sat up and linked his arms around her waist to be sure he hadn’t dreamt the whole thing.

  “Ah, your snow addiction began early.” She bent to kiss him.

  Dreamlike, but very real. “Yeah. Depressing little town, though.”

  “Is that why you left?” She tugged him to his feet.

  “No, I went to college. Fell in love with a girl.” Strange how relationships had changed the course of his life, literally. The first choice he made solely for himself was to move here.

  She linked arms with him and strolled. “What was she like?”

  “Perfect.” If he remembered right. His ex was receding into memory faster by the second.

  Melanie’s face fell. “Oh.”

  “Until I caught her cheating. Then she was deeply flawed.”

  “Oh.” More sympathetic. “What was your major in college?”

  “Is this an interview? Screening process?” he teased.

  “No, but I still want to know every detail. To absorb you.”

  “Sounds obscenely great.” And dangerous. She might not leave any recognizable parts of him behind—a very real possibility.

  “How did you end up in Sweden? In Kiruna?”

  “After I caught Poppy in bed—”

  “Wait.” She halted, pulling him to a stop. “Her name was Poppy?” When he nodded, she asked, “Like the opium flower? Like in The Wizard of Oz and the wicked witch croaks, ‘Poppies will make them sleep? ’”

  Even he heard the bitterness in his chuckle. “Change ‘sleep’ to ‘weep’ and that’s her exactly.”

  She squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry.”

  He walked again, but much more slowly. “So was I, for a long time.” He caught himself from falling into those awful memories and the acidic emotions they dredged up. Not worth one more instant of his life. “But it’s all in the past.”

  “Yeah. The past is over and done.”

  “Gotta let it go. Move on.” He hoped she understood the subliminal message, its relativity for now. For them.

  “The only thing to do.” Her voice had softened, then she seemed to shake off whatever had come over her. She strolled slowly. “As you were saying, you came here because…”

  Another moment passed. “I read an article about a guy who decided he hated his life and wanted to get as far away as possible.”

  “And he came to Kiruna?”

  “Antarctica, actually. Ended up a bartender in the last outpost of humanity.” Poor bastard.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Sounds dismal.”

  “Yeah, it did to me too, actually. I liked the concept, so I came here instead.”

  “Good choice. I’ll bet it’s pretty in summer months.”

  “Lovely. Everyone spends as much time outside as they can. Lots of festivals, it’s great. Really, you should see it.”

  Her mouth twitched, as if she couldn’t decide whether to keep smiling or not.

  “Maybe…” Don’t ask her to stay, it’s too soon. She might turn out to be another Poppy. Who could tell? “…you could come back.”

  “I’d like to.” She sighed. “I don’t have a lot of control over it. Weird, huh? I can’t decide where I want to go.”

  He clenched his fists. “So quit the show.” Hell. But he wanted her to.

  “I’m under contract.” She said it like an apology.

  “You could break it.” If she wanted to—and she sounded as if she did earlier. “When you talked to Isa, you seemed to hate it.”

  “I’m not ungrateful. The show’s been a wonderful opportunity.”

  “But?” There had to be one.

  “It doesn’t feel like me anymore. I’m ready to slow down. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Yep.” More than he could say.

  “I could tell. You’re not happy either, are you?”

  She read him too well already. “I’m ready for the next step.”

  “Which is?”

  “Building my own resort. Raising huskies instead of working them so hard. Don’t get me wrong, they love it, but I’d rather not be on the mushing end forever. Ah, but it’s probably a pipe dream.”

  “No, you’d be great at it.”

  Her insistence surprised him. “I’m not good with people like you are. It’s easy for you to engage others in conversations. About anything. How do you do that?”

  “It’s a skill like anything else. It took me awhile to learn.”

  So teach me. “We’ll see. Anyway, it’s tops on my bucket list.”

  Their meandering walk eventually led them to the dining hall. A long table carved from ice sat in the center, chairs frozen in place. Behind the clear ice walls, light brought the carved designs of flowers and scrolls into sharper relief.

  “Incredibly beautiful.”

  “They’re true artisans. It’s different every year.” Or so he’d heard, at least. He wanted to tell her he didn’t visit each new Icehotel. Pride kept him from admitting he couldn’t afford it, though his gut told him she wouldn’t care.

  “I envy you.”

  Something twisted his insides. He caught sight of Gina, Hayden, and Victor waiting at the end of a corridor. The winding stem of a snow mushroom towering over their heads lent a surreal illusion to the scene. “There are your friends.” Tweedle-Dum, Tweedle-Dee and the Cheshire Cat, aiming her wide, wise-ass grin at them.

  She tightened her hold on his arm. “Buck.”

  Her urgent tone kept him rooted. “Something wrong?”

  “No, the opposite, in fact. I wanted to say…tack.”

  Thanks? “You don’t owe me any gratitude.” But he’d rather ask ‘please’ to whatever she was willing to give. “You know tack covers both please and thank you in Swedish, right?”

  Mischief showed in her grin. “I picked up on that.”

  So which… Hmm. He wouldn’t ask. He’d rather find out later. When they were alone again.

  * * * *

  If Melanie could will a person to eat faster, she would have for Buck. She linked arms with Gina. “Do me a favor?”

  “Anyth
ing.”

  “Tonight, will you bunk with the guys?” To fend off the inquisition sure to follow, she added, “Hey, you said to give you a warning. It’ll get crowded in my room with three of us.”

  Gina sputtered, “Really?”

  She didn’t want anyone to try and talk her out of it. “Please don’t tell me it’s stupid. That I could ruin my career, or whatever protest might spring to mind. I’ve already given myself the same arguments over and over. But it doesn’t matter. I want to be with him.”

  “I wasn’t,” Gina said. “I was going to say it’s about time.”

  “Really?” Did everyone but her know what she needed?

  Gina whooped. “Yes. You go, girl.”

  Melanie couldn’t help but laugh. “I. Am. Going.” To hell with rules, to hell with what she should or shouldn’t do. She wanted to be with him. Alone. Her stomach fluttered with excitement. “No interruptions, okay? Go out and film other people, or wildlife, or the northern lights. Do not attempt to video us. Make sure Hayden gets the message.” God, she could just picture him outside her room, trying to zoom through the wall of ice.

  “I’ll steal their batteries if they try.”

  A laugh escaped her. “I’m so jittery. Excited and giddy and nervous.”

  Gina laughed. “You haven’t had a lot of practice lately, but it’ll come back to you.”

  “It better.” Or she might as well forget about ever having a relationship with anyone. Trouble was, at the moment, she couldn’t imagine one with anyone else but Buck.

  Chapter 11

  As many times as Buck had speared food onto his fork, he’d played with it more than eaten it. He finally gave up when his stomach held an acrobatic circus, crazy twists and flips stomping away his appetite. Nerves so tight, he could hardly sit still. Reminding himself not to stare at Melanie only caused him to gawk like a lovesick fool.

  She wasn’t playing him, was she? She couldn’t fake her shy smile, the adorable way her cheeks tinged when she looked at him, like she was thinking about what she wanted to do to him. The same things he was thinking about her.

  Gina frowned at him. “Didn’t you like your dinner?”

  “Yes, loved it.” A lie, since no flavor registered on his taste buds. His tongue had other hungers.