Wild Men of Alaska Collection

by Tiffinie Helmer

  A lump formed in his chest and spread throughout his soul. This wasn’t fair. If you were dead you shouldn’t be able to hurt like this.

  “What would you like to drink?” Gemma asked, as she let herself into her house. Cub had followed her home after two hours of cavorting about in the pool. “I don’t have much more than cooking wine for spirits as I don’t drink much. But I can make you some tea, hot chocolate or coffee.”

  “I don’t think you need any more stimulants.” Cub blushed, making him appear boyishly adorable. “I mean, no more caffeine. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look dead on your feet. Maybe I should leave and let you get some sleep.”

  She was dead on her feet, but not willing to fall asleep. Not with what had happened yesterday. “How about some hot chocolate? I always get cold going from the heated pool to twenty below.” At least it had warmed up, gave her a little faith that spring was indeed around the corner. To be honest, she was more chilled at the stunning display of Northern Lights gyrating across the sky than leaving a heated pool. They were so luminous and alive, trekking from greens, to purples, to reds and crackling with energy. After what Tern had shared with her, she hadn’t been surprised to find her radio full of static on the way home, though a tad concerned.

  “I haven’t been sleeping well,” Gemma confessed. Afraid she would crash as soon as she got home had been one of the reasons she’d decided to ask Cub over for a drink. With the Northern Lights lit up the way they were she was apprehensive about being alone, fearing she wouldn’t be alone for long.

  A brush, like a hot breath, swept over the back of her neck.

  She’d stacked her wet hair on her head after showering at the pool. A shiver that was anything but chilling, fluttered through her body. She glanced behind her and found no one. Cub had pulled out a chair and sat at the table a good ten feet away. She swallowed hard, and added a heaping tablespoon of instant coffee to her hot chocolate.

  “You okay?” Cub asked. “You seem a little on edge. I’m not going to jump your bones.”

  He might not, but she had the feeling there was more than the two of them currently in her kitchen.

  “Just a little spooked, I guess.” She handed him a mug of hot chocolate and took a seat across from him, taking a sip from hers. “I’ve never seen the Northern Lights this vibrant.”

  “You know the Native Alaskans used to fear that the stream of lights were their ancestors coming back to earth to snatch their souls.”

  Great.

  “The Scandinavians believed that when red appeared it was a sign of war,” he continued. “Even the Native Americans thought they were a conduit between worlds. Some still think that’s true. It wasn’t until the nineteenth century that we learned they were solar activity. Makes you wonder who is really right? Scientists whose theories are less than two hundred years old, or our ancestors.”

  “What do you believe, Cub?”

  “I like thinking there is a connection between our world and the Heavens. To think that we are totally cut off, or that our loved ones who have passed before us are completely out of reach, is sad.”

  Grief flickered across his expression, and she wondered who he had lost. His grief seemed fresh as though the claws hadn’t quite let go. Cub gave the mystical display out her window another look and then settled his starry-blue eyes on her. “Enough of that. How’s the bookstore?”

  She snorted a laugh. Cub had a way of jumping subjects that she appreciated. “Lots of reading and recommending. With all the changes in the way people like their reading material, we seem to be holding our own. But that might have a lot to do with Siri’s faithful followers. How are things at Search and Rescue?”

  “Challenging.”

  There was a long silence while Cub’s blue eyes studied her. The air seemed to thicken as he set his hot chocolate down. Gemma suddenly found it hard to swallow.

  Cub stood, taking her hand, and helped her to her feet. “Now, about that kiss.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Gemma licked her lips. “I should make this clear. I didn’t invite you over so we could sleep together.” Oh no, why had she said that?

  “Good to know.” Cub bit back a smile. “So why did you invite me over?”

  “You make sense.” No sleep made for one stupid girl.

  “Excuse me?”

  “We like the same activities. The same people. I’ve even heard that you’ve been known to read the occasional book.”

  A dimple winked at her as he grinned. “And here I thought it was because I was so damn cute.”

  She answered his grin. “Yeah, there is that too.” Might as well take stupid a step farther. “I thought you were going to kiss me?”

  “Sure put the pressure on.”

  He took her hand, a sweet understanding smile curving his lips. “Come here.” He sifted his fingers in her hair. “Close your eyes.”

  “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to leave my eyes open.”

  “By all means, leave them open then.”

  His head lowered, but before his lips would have taken hers, his mouth grazed her cheek, his fingers tracing the angles of her face as though learning her. His hands framed her face, and he slowly took her mouth with his.

  The kiss was soft, questioning, almost innocent. Like she was back in high school being kissed for the first time, though not awkward. Awkward had been last time they’d tried this.

  Cub applied more pressure, pulling her closer to him, and deepened the kiss. This was nice. Sweet.

  “Your hot chocolate tastes way better than mine,” Cub murmured.

  “I, uh, added a little something.”

  “Let me take another—” Cub’s mouth took hers more aggressively this time. His arms wrapping around her, lifting her off her feet and closer to his body. Her stomach did a surprising little flip.

  Wow, he had such big...hands. His arms were long enough to envelop completely around her, his hands splayed around her back, with his fingers brushing the undersides of her breasts.

  A groan vibrated from him, and he broke contact, seeming startled by the sound. “That was much better than the other day.”

  “Much,” she whispered. Maybe sleeping with Cub wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  A chill blew into the room.

  Cub looked around the kitchen. “Do you have a window or door open?”

  “No.”

  He set her back onto her feet and turned. “Did you feel that?”

  “Feel what?” Oh, no. She was awake right? She pinched herself. Yep. Cub’s kiss had been real. She hadn’t dreamt that. Neither had she dreamt the sudden drop in temperature that sent more than just a shiver through her body this time.

  She followed Cub into the living room where he double-checked her front door. It was still closed and locked from when they had entered the house.

  “Where’s your thermostat?”

  “Down the hall.” She led the way, realizing for the first time how close the thermostat was to her bedroom. She had a short hallway. Her bedroom was at the back, a guest bathroom on the left, and second bedroom on the right across from the bathroom. They were now just a few feet from her open bedroom door. Her queen size bed was a temptation she didn’t want to resist.

  But for sleep or some other reason?

  “Your thermostat seems fine.” Cub adjusted the settings and the heat kicked on. “Must have been a freak thing.” He glanced at her unmade bed and then back to her. “Nice sheets.”

  “They were a gift.” It was hard to admit to this big man, who was currently biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, that she’d trekked down the Star Trek sheets for herself. And they’d been hard to find.

  “A fan?”

  She shrugged. “Somewhat.” She didn’t want to scare him off with the truth.

  He pointed to the autographed picture of Leonard Nimoy framed and hanging on her wall. “I think more than somewhat.” He cocked a brow. Not as impressive as Spock’s famou
s questioning brow what with Cub being all blond and blue-eyed...and hot. “Don’t tell me your bedroom is ‘where no man has gone before’?”

  “Oh, you’re funny.” She reached around him and shut the door.

  “Guess that was the wrong joke to make?”

  She folded her arms across her chest.

  “What if I admitted that I’m a huge Doctor Who fan?”

  “Nope. Gotta do better than that. Everyone is a Doctor Who fan.”

  He choked out a laugh. “Okay, if you really want to get personal—”

  “You laughed at my sheets.”

  “Personal, it is then.” He cleared his throat. “My favorite movie of all time is...Titanic.”

  Her arms dropped to her sides. “‘I’m the king of the world’ Titanic?”

  He gave her a sheepish look. “Too soon?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” It was her turn to bite back a smile, which she lost. “It’s hard to see the big man in front of me, who it’s been rumored to have stared down a bear, so in touch with his feminine side.”

  “Once. I stared down a bear once. Don’t ever want to do it again, and it was more of a case of being too scared shitless to move than actual bravery. Besides, I thought women liked men who were in touch with their feminine sides.”

  “To a point. Men still must be able to defend hearth and home, kill spiders, and pay attention when picking out paint colors. But we don’t welcome your opinions differing from ours. And above all, there is nothing manly about crying during a chick flick.”

  “Good to know. I’ll be covert when I take you to see the new Nicolas Sparks movie. What do you say?”

  She glanced at him from under her lashes. “So you want to move our relationship beyond the pool?”

  “I’d like to get to know you better, Gemma. You have very impressive paddling skills.” He angled his head to the side. “Did that sound dirty to you?”

  “A bit.”

  “Good. So, you want to take in dinner or a movie sometime?” He leaned in closer. Her back was literally against the hallway wall. But she didn’t feel trapped.

  “On one condition,” she said.

  His finger tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Name it.”

  “We see the new Joss Whedon movie instead.”

  He leaned back. “Don’t tell me you’re a Buffy fan?”

  She nodded. “Diehard fan of not just Buffy, but Angel, Firefly, and Serenity too.”

  He shook his head. “Should have known by the Trekky sheets.” He gave a deep, pretend sigh. “I guess if you can overlook my love for Titanic, I can see past the geek in you.”

  She let go of the laugh. It had been so long since she’d flirted like this.

  Another cold breeze swirled around them. Gemma rubbed her arms.

  Cub looked around, tapped the thermostat, and shook his head in confusion. “I think you have a draft somewhere.”

  She had an idea of where that cold breeze was blowing in from.

  Her Dreamweaver needed some boundaries.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “She’s calling you,” Hansen said, munching on the biggest strawberries Lucky had ever seen. He also knew, from experience, they were the tastiest too. Which was weird since if you were dead, how did you taste things?

  Was it all an illusion?

  Gemma wasn’t. And neither was that claim jumper Cub. What kind of name was “Cub” anyway?

  “Lucky? Did you hear me? Your woman is calling for you.” Hansen shook his head. “You always were a lucky bastard.”

  Hence the name. That was until he was murdered.

  “Are you going to answer her or what?”

  Lucky stopped pacing for a minute and faced him. Hansen reclined on a boulder with the bottomless basket of strawberries. His legs crossed at the ankles as he took in the splendor Limbo had to offer. Hansen might be content to stay here and not move on to that place others before them, and after, had chosen to enter. But Lucky wasn’t. He wanted to move back. And he couldn’t figure out how to get there. He thought he had been on the right track with seducing Gemma. Could he have been wrong? He didn’t like what he felt now. Like he could kill someone.

  “So what happened to have you hiding here away from that pretty woman?”

  “She kissed a guy named Cub. Cub.”

  “Yeah, you already told me that.”

  “She kissed the same guy. Again. And this time they both enjoyed it.”

  “Wow. That sucks for you.” Hansen bit into another apple-size strawberry. “So why then is she calling you?”

  “She’s not happy with me.”

  Hansen set the basket of berries down on the vibrant green grass. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing big, just tried to cool them off.”

  “Chill in the air?”

  Lucky nodded. More like an arctic wind.

  “You aren’t to interfere if she chooses someone else.”

  “She can’t choose someone else.” He was already feeling more for her than he had for any other woman. And since he’d glimpsed his future and seen their life together, how happy they’d been, the little people they’d created, he wanted it all. He’d been robbed of too much.

  Damn it, he was owed.

  “You know that this isn’t a sure thing,” Hansen cautioned.

  “I know.” Boy, did he know. That’s why he was trying his damnedest to make a solid connection with Gemma. And he’d been doing a pretty good job of it until Cub had kissed her tonight. Flirted with her. Made her laugh.

  “Do you really think ignoring Gemma is going to get you further with her?”

  Ah, man. “Love has never been this complicated for me before,” Lucky grumbled.

  “Sure, when you love and leave ‘em it isn’t complicated. It’s convenient. Everything you’re trying to do with that woman has complicated written all over it. But I will tell you one thing about women. You give them the silent treatment, and they will freeze your ass out. No one does revenge better than a woman.”

  Lucky rubbed his neck. Didn’t he know it. “All right. Don’t wait up for me.”

  Lucky found Gemma pacing a path in her carpet, dressed again in another sweatshirt with Rink Rats and opposing hockey sticks on the front, sweats, wool socks, and an expression that could freeze geothermal hot springs.

  “Last time I’m calling you,” she hollered at the ceiling. “Get your ass down here, Dreamweaver!”

  “Call me Lucky.”

  She jerked and slowly turned toward his voice, muttering under her breath, “I’m not crazy. I am not crazy.”

  “You are not crazy, Gemma.”

  Her eyes traveled over him. “You’re really here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why can I hear you but not see you?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not up on how all this works. Like you, I’m learning as we go.”

  “Why are you...visiting me?”

  “For the reasons I told you last night.”

  “I was your future?”

  “Yes. My wife, my lover, my friend, and the mother of my children.” He heard the catch in his voice and tried to man up. He remembered her amusement with Cub about men being in touch with their feminine side. He got the feeling she preferred a man’s man. While he’d been light-hearted and full of Zen in his first life—he hadn’t felt that way in a long time—no way would he be caught watching Titanic again. Though he had to admit, Kathy Bates was the best thing about that movie.

  “Whoa. Wife? Mother?” She dragged her hands through her hair. “Seriously?”

  “We were to be introduced, but I didn’t make it back. If I had, that would have been it. As it is, I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you.”

  “After you were already dead?” She backed up a step.

  “Yes.”

  “How? Who?” She shook her head, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, she seemed less flustered. Not much less, but a tad.

  “Gemma, ta
lk to Tern. Tell her my name is Lucky Leroy Morgan. She’ll fill in the rest.”

  “What? How would Tern know?”

  He lifted a hand and caressed the side of her face, glorifying in her response as she closed her eyes again and leaned into his touch. “I don’t have any more time, babe. Snow’s coming. Get some sleep.” He kissed her, trying his hardest to erase Cub’s touch from her mouth and memory.

  His spirit slowly disintegrated in her arms as the snow outside turned heavier, blocking out the magnetic waves from the sun.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Gemma didn’t care that it was after midnight. She called Tern. There was no way she was sleeping after what Lucky had told her.

  “’ello,” Tern mumbled into the phone.

  “His name is Lucky, and he said that you would explain everything. So. Explain. Oh God, you’ve got to explain all this to me. I know I’m not crazy. I know it. Mostly know it. Holy balls, Tern. Tell me!”

  “Gemma?”

  “Yes, of course it’s me. Who else would call you up in the middle of the freaking night ranting like a possessed woman?”

  “You’d be surprised,” Tern muttered. “Hold on, what did you say his name was?”

  “Lucky Leroy Morgan.”

  “Holy shit. I’ll be right there.”

  “Tern?” Gemma looked at the phone, and sure enough, they were no longer connected. “Well, hell.” How was she going to wait out the time it took for Tern to get here? Gemma glanced out her window. Snow fell in fat flakes. Tern was roughly ten minutes away on a clear day. Maybe she should call her back and tell her not to come?

  The phone rang once before Tern answered, sounding much more awake than before. “I know it’s snowing. I’m still coming.”

  “Be careful then.”

  “Put on a pot of coffee. The ramifications of this...are huge.” She disconnected again.

  Gemma went back into her kitchen, cleaned up after her and Cub, and had the coffee ready by the time Tern pounded on her front door.