He refrained from quipping, “It’s the finest ass I’ve ever had the pleasure of saving” and accepted her gratitude with a smile as he held up the choice of two cans. “Canned corn and potted meat on crackers or peaches and canned halibut on crackers? Hell, I’m feeling adventurous...how about both?”
“Sounds good to me. Go wild, boss man, while I find the plastic forks.”
Jeremiah opened the cans and grimaced at the slightly smoky scent of the canned halibut, and as he worked with Miranda to prepare a dinner of sorts for the two of them he realized with a start there was only one bed in the room. As his heart rate accelerated, he made a second realization that jolted him to his bones—he couldn’t wait to sleep beside her one more time.
And that was bad. Very bad.
But he also knew neither had a choice in the matter.
Miranda caught his gaze and she realized his thoughts. “We can handle this, right? We’re adults caught in a life-or-death situation. Nothing is going to happen between us.”
He wanted to reassure her, but as her tongue snaked nervously along her sensually plump lower lip, his groin tightened and he knew it was going to be rough to deny each other. Still, he would do his damnedest. “We’re adults. We can handle simply sleeping beside each other,” he agreed gruffly. He gestured to their makeshift dinner. “Let’s eat.”
She nodded and they ate in silence—both knowing with a certainty that something likely might happen but they were going to fight it until they simply couldn’t deny the attraction any longer.
Jeremiah exhaled as he chewed tersely. “It’s going to be a long night.”
“Tell me about it,” Miranda agreed on a sigh. “A very long, frustrating night.”
Amen to that.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MIRANDA FINISHED HER makeshift dinner and swished her mouth with a gulp of water before eyeing the bed as if it were the enemy. She started talking just to alleviate the tension in the room as she checked the blankets to ensure nothing creepy crawly was also sleeping in the bed. “I don’t know why we’re so freaked out about this. We’re both adults and, besides, we’re going to be wearing all our clothes, so it’s not as if we’re going to be rubbing up against each other naked.” She forced a laugh at the idea. “I mean, it’s just like camping, right? We’re going to bunk up for necessity and be completely mature about the situation so that no one can say anything about it.”
“Of course,” he agreed. “But I think it’s best to keep this to ourselves to avoid becoming the gossip of the week.”
“Right. I mean, we don’t need to explain to anyone what happened. We can just tell people that we went our separate ways after tagging the bear. No one needs to know.”
Miranda ignored the improbability of her suggestion and clung to the possibility that it might work. She finished fluffing the thick insulated blankets and stood beside Jeremiah, staring at the bed, waiting.
“I’d prefer to sleep on the outside, if you wouldn’t mind,” Jeremiah said.
“I suppose for one night that’ll be fine.” Miranda took a deep breath and climbed into the bed, scooting over to the far side nearest the wall. She pulled the blankets to her chin and stared at the ceiling while Jeremiah climbed in beside her. Good God, she felt like a nervous teenage girl. She stiffened when Jeremiah’s body pressed against hers. “We need to share the space,” she reminded him with irritation.
“It’s a very small space,” he countered, equally irritated. “I don’t think we’ll be able to sleep on our backs. We’ll have to spoon.”
“Are you kidding me?” she asked. “I am not spooning you.”
“It will simply save space and allow both of us to share body heat,” he said. “I promise my suggestion is nothing more than being logical given the situation. Trust me, I’d rather be anywhere but lying beside you right now.”
Ouch. “Is that so?” she said, grudgingly flipping on her side and allowing her backside to settle into the cove of his big body. “Well, hopefully you’ll be able to suffer through one night.”
There was a long pause and then Jeremiah said, “Don’t take it the wrong way. I like the feel of you against me. That’s the problem, Miranda. I like it too much. Before you get all screechy about not being interested in a relationship, I’m not looking for a girlfriend. But I am attracted to you and it’d make my life a lot easier if I weren’t. And even though we are adults, it’s not so easy to remind my libido of that fact when you’re pressed up against me. That’s all I’m saying.”
Her face safely hidden from view, Miranda allowed a tiny smile. She knew how he felt because she felt the same. Why’d he have to be so handsome? She remembered in fresh detail how it felt to be touched by him, to feel him moving inside her, filling her to the point of near-delicious pain.
“And there’s something else,” he added softly, and she stilled to listen. “I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since that night together and I’m exhausted.”
“Me, too,” she admitted on a whisper. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. Let’s get a good night’s rest and think about it in the morning.”
“Okay.” She smiled and relaxed, her body toasty and warm and feeling wonderfully sheltered by Jeremiah. She almost wished they didn’t have so many clothes between them. She wanted to feel his skin against hers but as she yawned she accepted that this was probably as close as they were going to get to a repeat of their time together. As she tumbled into sleep, Miranda thought this was something she could get used to...if things were different.
* * *
JEREMIAH’S ARM WAS wrapped firmly around Miranda’s midsection and it felt completely natural to have her against him. His body settled into the lethargy of sleep, and within moments, he was oblivious, but his extreme exhaustion wreaked havoc with his mind and soon his REM sleep was filled with vivid dreams.
The Wyoming skyline filled his vision. He stood on a precipice overlooking a great prairie, the Big Horn Mountains rising like craggy giants from the grassy plains, sentinels from a time long forgotten. As far as Jeremiah’s eye could see was a vast wild landscape, untouched by man, uncontaminated by electronic waste.
A sense of beginning filled him as he stared with wonder at what could only be described as a pristine, virgin land. This was the stuff of country and western music, ballads and cowboys.
A spire of smoke caught his attention. Within seconds, the smoke gathered and caught until the shrubs and grasses curled and disintegrated beneath the onslaught of the flames licking the mountains and threatening to destroy everything in the fire’s path. Frightened animals charged and bleated, running for their lives as certain death rained down with orange fury. He watched in helpless horror as everything beautiful and free succumbed to the ravaging fire, leaving nothing but blackened destruction in its wake.
Jeremiah sank to his knees and found himself off the precipice and down in the destroyed valley. His hands dug into the charred earth, and charcoal stained his fingers. Tears wet his cheeks and he began to clear away the dead grass to the soil beneath. He continued to dig until his fingers sank into fresh, clean dirt that was cool and moist to the touch. He stilled as a butterfly alighted on his shoulder, seemingly incongruous with the bleak landscape. When he looked again, his fingers were clutching green shoots of grass that had poked their way through the hard crust of devastation.
And as quickly as things changed in a dream with no rhyme or reason, Jeremiah was kneeling before Tyler in a deep conversation, yet Jeremiah couldn’t understand a word his son was actually saying. Tyler grinned as he chattered gibberish and Jeremiah fought the frustration of not being able to comprehend his son and simply went to pull the boy into his arms for a tight, desperate squeeze but his son was gone like mist dissolving in the harsh ray of sun.
“No!” Jeremiah fought the panic and the
growing sense that he was slowly awakening. He didn’t want to wake up if it meant his son wasn’t there waiting for him. Tyler was alive in his dreams. Jeremiah wanted to stay. But sleep was losing its grip and the cobwebs of dreams were already dissolving, leaving behind a general sense of grief and sadness.
He awoke slowly to Miranda staring at him with concern. “You were yelling in your sleep,” she said softly.
It was still dark; he must’ve dropped straight into REM as soon as his eyes closed with exhaustion. “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her close. He was grateful when she didn’t resist or try to remind him that it was inappropriate. She rested her head on his chest and he held her tightly. He didn’t care about the why or how but Miranda calmed the wild panic fluttering in his chest and he desperately needed something to cling to. The dream had left him on the edge of sobbing wildly when he hadn’t felt that overwhelming tidal wave of grief in a long time. It scared him that he could tumble so easily into the abyss when he’d thought he’d left that far behind.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he lied. “I’m fine.”
If she didn’t believe him, at least she didn’t call him on his falsehood.
And he was grateful because if she’d pressed just a little, he wasn’t sure what might’ve been unleashed. All he knew was it wouldn’t have been pretty.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MIRANDA AWOKE SLOWLY. Disorientation caused her to panic until she felt Jeremiah beside her. She settled against the comforting bulk of his body and allowed herself to enjoy something that had never before given her joy. Snuggling, cuddling, spooning...simply weren’t part of her repertoire. But with Jeremiah, such intimacy felt normal.
She wanted to ask him about his dream. Something had caused him to cry out in his sleep. She knew it wasn’t her business but she couldn’t bring herself to forget.
“How long have you been awake?”
Jeremiah’s sleep-roughened voice gave her a silent thrill. She smiled. “Long enough to know that you snore.”
“Everyone snores in their sleep.”
“I wouldn’t know. I never let people sleep over, so no one has ever complained.”
“That makes two of us.”
She arched an eyebrow as she rose up to meet his gaze. “Is that so? So back home in Wyoming were you a love-’em-and-leave-’em sort of guy?”
Jeremiah chuckled. “There was no loving being done. Before coming to Alaska and meeting you I’d been on a self-imposed dry spell, remember?”
Ah, yes. He had mentioned that he’d been purposefully celibate. Seemed a waste given how glorious his body was beneath those sensible desk-monkey clothes. “Why?” She shouldn’t have asked but she wanted to know just the same. “You seem like a man with a healthy appetite. Were you punishing yourself for something?”
Jeremiah’s easy smile faded and she sensed that she’d hit a nerve. He glanced away. “Not exactly. Life seems less complicated without entanglements, sexual or otherwise.”
She did understand that. “Life is complicated enough, right?”
“Yeah.”
“But sometimes the body needs a little release, though. Nothing personal, just biology.”
“I guess I just learned to shut it down,” he said. “Besides, I had plenty of work to keep me occupied. Made it difficult to date and I don’t troll for one-night stands. Not my style.”
“What was I, then?”
“You were different.”
“How?”
“You just were.”
As she gazed down at him, propped on her elbow while he remained on his back, she caught something vulnerable about him. There was something hidden deep, something that he protected from prying eyes. The mystery drove her crazy.
* * *
HE REGARDED HER with solemn eyes, pushing a lock of hair away from her gaze. “You have beautiful eyes,” he murmured.
“You have a beautiful mouth,” she countered softly.
She felt a pull toward him and she slowly lowered her mouth to his. Seconds before their lips met, a voice in her head reminded her why she shouldn’t. She had good reasons to pull away, to stop. But none of her solid, logical reasons were stronger than her desire to touch and feel Jeremiah again. He was like a drug in her system and she was aching for a fix.
Miranda allowed Jeremiah to roll her to her back, never breaking the kiss as their tongues danced and tangled between them. She allowed herself to sink into the sensation of being protected and cherished as Jeremiah’s touch ignited a firestorm of need and desire she hadn’t known was smoldering beneath the surface.
Within moments they were tearing off their clothes, eager to feel skin on skin, heedless of how reckless they were both being. Jeremiah nuzzled her bare breasts, taking his time as he slipped a nipple into his hot and greedy mouth. She gasped and arched against him, clutching his head to her breast, desperate for more. Their bodies created their own heat as snow fell outside the tiny window, blanketing the world in blinding white. As the storm continued to rage, Jeremiah and Miranda allowed their pent-up need to overrun their good sense, openly delighting in the ways their bodies complemented one another.
“So perfect,” Jeremiah groaned, sweat beading his brow as he moved above her, sliding inside her tight heat with one fluid push. He shuddered as he buried himself, taking a full fifteen seconds to enjoy the friction of that first thrust before flexing his hips as she met him, clasping her legs around him, driving him deeper. He gasped her name and she thrilled at the sound of it. She didn’t remember the last time she’d lost herself with such abandon. Jeremiah brought out an animal in her that would not be tamed and she left scratch marks on his back, which he bore without complaint.
They rode the edge together until both arrived, crashing into oblivion and taking no prisoners as they fell back to earth. Miranda could barely speak, could hardly breathe, she was too buffeted by the pleasurable contractions squeezing every last moment of pure happiness from her body. When she finally dropped back into awareness of her surroundings and the man breathing heavily beside her, she knew with a certainty that so much more had changed between them this time.
And he knew it, too.
She swallowed, her throat dry from crying out, and he responded by reaching down on the floor to retrieve a water bottle she’d placed there before they’d gone to bed. She sat up and accepted the bottle without comment and simply drank deeply. She needed time to think. Time to process. She checked the storm outside and she could see that the snow hadn’t let up, which meant they weren’t leaving anytime soon. She’d give anything for a rescue.
A rescue from the pending moment.
Jeremiah looked fairly adorable with his mussed hair and his arm across his eyes as he tried to recover. The chill in the room pebbled his nipples and she was tempted to bend down and tease the hardened tips with her teeth just as he had done to her earlier. She shook her head to clear her thoughts but she was seduced by the scent and sight of the man lying beside her who was likely freaking out inside his head.
“We won’t tell anyone.”
“That might’ve worked the first time, not a second.”
“It will if we make it work.”
He dropped his arm and regarded her intently. “I want you, Miranda. There’s no getting around that fact.” He swiveled his head straight to stare at the ceiling. His mouth curved in a fatalistic smile. “I’m not going to delude myself into thinking anything different.”
“You make it sound like a death sentence,” she groused, taking another swig of her water. “And maybe I don’t want you, so your angst is unwarranted.” His sigh told her he didn’t believe her for a second and he was right; she wanted him like a little kid wanted cake. What a mess. “Let me save you the trouble. I’m not the right girl for you.”
“I
already know that, but for the sake of argument, what are your reasons?”
She grabbed her discarded clothing and began dressing. “Because I’m an emotional mess. My ability to screw up my own life is directly proportional to how quickly I could screw up yours if we were to try and make something real out of this.”
“What makes you think you cornered the market on screwed up?” he asked with a sad but wry grin. “I know it won’t work out between us. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop wanting you. That’s where I’m at right now. I’m trying to find a way to deal with what I know to be true and what I know to be the worst decision I could possibly make for my career and my life.”
She nodded. “Me, too.” Well, not so much the career part but definitely her life. “Maybe we could see each other on the side?”
“Meet in clandestine hotels out of town and hope and pray no one recognizes us?” His dark chuckle was answer enough to his own hypothetical. “That’s not my style.”
“Me neither.”
“This is rich. The solution is staring us right in the face but neither wants to admit it.” He met her stare and waited but she wanted him to say it first. He exhaled loudly. “We simply can’t see each other. This has to be it. We’ll have to chalk this up to an extreme situation and forget it ever happened as well as vow it will never happen again. I’m crazy attracted to you, Miranda, but I’m not going to jeopardize both our careers over something that neither of us is ready to entertain.”
She nodded in agreement but felt hollow inside. Everything he said made perfect sense. So why did it feel wrong? It was official: she had a backward way of thinking. When she ought to feel solid about making the right decision, she felt cheated; when she ought to feel guilty, she felt a sense of freedom. She’d make some psychiatrist rich trying to unravel the yarns of thread in her head. “Okay.” She supposed he was right. No sense in making bigger messes by trying to make something work that neither of them understood. She watched as he dressed, silently mourning the loss of all that smooth, muscular skin on display.
That Reckless Night Page 13
