Quickly, he squashed those thoughts before they could take root. He parked and climbed out of the truck. Grabbing the clipboard off the seat, he tucked a pencil behind his ear.
The sound of a chainsaw vibrated on the air. He could see wood chips flying in front of the Jeep he’d parked behind.
Traipsing through the packed snow, he followed the constant buzz of the saw, and came up short at the pixie wielding a chainsaw, slicing into a large, upright log.
That was not Jack.
Clad in Carhartt overalls and a blue-checkered flannel shirt, with leather gloves protecting her hands, as well as earmuffs, safety glasses, and a knit hat stood Sorene Wilde.
His heart spasmed, and he found himself clutching a fist over the spot in a useless attempt to keep it inside his chest.
He wasn’t ready to see her. Not today. Not with his emotions swimming so close to the surface worrying over his dad.
What was she doing here?
Obviously working.
He gaped as he watched her confidently handle the chainsaw, chipping away at the log as though it were an extension of her body. He could already see the image of a bear taking shape.
When had she learned how to do this? In high school, she always carried a pocket knife—so did everyone else in Alaska—but she constantly whittled little animals out of scrap wood with hers.
Apparently, she’d graduated to more powerful tools.
The buzzing of saw suddenly ceased, and Sorene set it down at her feet, wiping a flannel-covered arm over her brow.
He didn’t move.
Maybe she wouldn’t notice him and he could sneak back to his truck, which is what he should have done before she’d killed the engine on the saw.
She turned toward him, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe.
God, she was stunning.
Her flushed cheeks had lost the fullness of adolescence, revealing sharp cheekbones and making her eyes behind the clear safely glass look enormous.
Had they always been that green?
Her cupid-bow lips fell open with a gasp, and her chest heaved on a stuttering breath as if she found it hard to breathe in his presence too.
“Ash?” she whispered his name, and everything inside him clenched. He loved how she said his name, a mix of prayer and wonder. “What are you doing here?”
He swallowed, attempted to speak, and had to swallow again. “Quinn is sick, so I came home.”
“Sick? What do you mean sick?”
Crap, he’d promised his dad not to say anything. “Uh, he needed some help with the business and asked that I meet Jack out here. Where’s your dad?” That last bit came out sounding too high-pitched.
If there is a God, please let Jack be inside the cabin.
He couldn’t be alone with Sorene. His defenses weren’t fortified enough.
“When did you return home?” Her eyes narrowed. “Does Jack know you’re in town?”
“Uh…yes. Dad told him I’d be helping out.”
A scary glow entered her eyes. “I’m going to skin that meddling man alive.”
He was slower than she, but eventually he caught on. “Jack sent you here to meet with Quinn today, didn’t he?”
“Yep.” Her lips thinned as she pressed them into a hard line.
He wanted to turn that hard line into a welcoming smile again. She used to look at him as if he painted the winter skies in northern lights.
They’d been each other’s first, and he’d measured every woman against her, and they’d all fallen short. Now she regarded him with apprehension and distrust. More than anything he wished he could change that. It would probably take a time machine in order to achieve such a miracle.
“It looks like we’re working together whether we like it or not. I’m sure we’re adult enough to get through it.” Squaring his shoulders, he tried to wash off the need to continue their argument that had sent him packing ten years ago.
She refused to see reason then. Would she be more reasonable now with a bit of maturity?
One searching look into those simmering green eyes told him now was not the time to bring up the past. Maybe working with him, she’d soften enough to hear him out? “Take me through what you need, and I’ll get out of your way.”
“Fine.” Sorene dusted off her clothes. Spinning she stomped up the wide-covered porch into the cabin.
Fine was right.
Sorene Wilde was still the finest woman he’d ever come across. Even with bits of wood and sawdust caught in the blond curls that had escaped her knit hat and clad in the androgynous outfit, she was more woman than any he’d ever meet in all his travels.
He followed her at a leisurely pace, his concentration split between taking in her comely backside and the log structure he was here to work on.
Focus, dude. You have a job to do. Think of Dad.
That did the trick. The cabin was different than most he’d seen. More fairy cottage than rustic, mountain home. The type of house an Alaskan fairy might carve out of the wilderness. Someone like Sorene.
“Are you building this place for yourself?” he asked.
She stopped and turned. “No. Why would you think that?”
He shrugged. “Just that the design seems more like something you would choose.”
“What do you know about my tastes? It’s been ten years since you knew me. I could be a fan of modern construction for all you know.”
A surprised laugh escaped him. “Doubt it. Some things always remain the same.” Like how she made his blood boil just looking at her. “This design has your fingerprints all over it. You drew up homes like this in high school, in that sketch pad you always carried around.”
Surprise registered in her expression. “You remember that?”
“I remember everything about you.” And he badly wanted to know this older, wiser version of the girl he’d loved.
“Actually, I did help draw up the plans. Dad took my advice to heart and Ryder engineered the blue prints.”
“Jack Wilde is a smart man and Ryder is obviously bright enough to recognize your talent.”
She looked away as if uncomfortable with his praise. She’d never taken compliments well, doubting herself and her ability. Guess that hadn’t changed, which saddened him.
“Is that bear outside for the staircase?” he asked attempting to get them on firmer ground.
“Yes.”
He waited a beat and then realized she wasn’t going to add more. “What’s your vision for the kitchen?” He’d get her to talk even if it were only about what Bleu Carpentry could do for Log Wilde Homes.
“I think it would be best if we reschedule this until your dad is feeling better. He always seems to know what I want for a job before I do.”
What she’d left unsaid hung like ice fog in the air between them. She didn’t want to work with him. He wished more than anything that he could confide in her about Quinn. He needed a sounding board, a shoulder, someone to lean on. He didn’t know if he was strong enough to deal with the possibility of losing his father.
She’d lost her mother to leukemia. Of all the people he knew she would be the one to advise him. But he very much doubted she’d be open to listening. He’d lost his mother at an age where he couldn’t remember anything about her. She’d taken off with a tourist, abandoning him and Quinn when he was a toddler. Any memories he had of her were from the limited photographs his father hadn’t thrown away.
“Dad will be out of commission for a while. You’ll have to work with me or find another carpentry crew.”
There, what’ll you do with that?
He was getting annoyed by the way she regarded him as though he was no better than an irritating mosquito. Bleu Carpentry was the only cabinet and door business in the area. If she didn’t work with him, she’d have to hire an outfit from Fairbanks, which would increase costs and delay the time frame.
She curled her lips over her teeth for a moment before releasing them. The action caused her mouth to pin
ken.
Would those lips still taste as sweet, feel as soft under his?
Christ, he shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like that. She was colder than the glaciers clustered in the mountains surrounding Heartbreak. If he attempted to kiss her, most likely she’d leave him frostbitten.
Unless a kiss could thaw the ice field between them?
She scowled, the action causing her brow to furrow. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” he asked, his voice suddenly husky. Would she name what she saw in his eyes?
“Calculating,” she answered.
“Do you ever think of me, of us? Because I’ve never gotten you out of my system, and Christ knows I’ve tried.” He took a step toward her.
She retreated, seemed to realize how her action weakened her position, and stood her ground. “What are you doing? This is not professional behavior.”
He barked out a humorless sound and tossed his clipboard to the floor. “Then you’ll have to write me up for this.” He snaked one hand around her waist, pulling her flush against him, while anchoring the other hand behind her neck, imprisoning her for his mouth to swoop down and capture hers.
Chapter 5
At Ash’s touch, a startled squeak escaped Sorene, before he effectively silenced it with his mouth.
Her stomach flipped just like when she took a jump on a snow machine. That initial soaring, followed by the freefall, the exhilaration before crashing to earth.
The crash would come, she knew, but her body wouldn’t obey her mind. It glorified at the feel of Ash, of being held by this man again. A man with strong shoulders and muscled arms that banded around her, making her feel protected while adding just a hint of danger.
She shouldn’t allow this—she needed to push him away, and she certainly shouldn’t be kissing him back. Yet, her lips parted and allowed him entrance, and she was lost in sensation. Sensations that woke her in the dark of night, her body yearning for the touch of a man.
This man.
A strangled groan escaped him and he tightened his hold, his hardened body pressing into the softness of hers. Feelings of euphoria, headier than any drug, shot off the Richter scale.
Oh, goodnight, she was in trouble. A huge part of her didn’t care, rejoicing in the pleasure coursing through her body like a rushing river after a dormant winter.
Hadn’t she toed the line, been a good girl, taken care of everyone? When was it her turn to cut loose, be irresponsible, and feel alive again? Clutched in Ash’s embrace made her feel more alive than she had in a long time.
Ten years to be exact.
She had to put a stop to this or she’d truly be lost. He would destroy defenses that had taken her a long time to erect.
A few more minutes, the wild side of her whispered. Give me just a little longer.
A few more minutes and she’d abandon all sense of rationality and tear his clothes off.
Wrenching his mouth from hers, he buried his lips over the sensitive spot on the side of her neck that had always brought her to her knees. “God, I’ve missed you,” he whispered. “My Wild Heart.” He’d loved her dad’s nickname for her and had adopted it back when they were thick as diamond willows.
Don’t nibble. She’d be a goner for sure if—
He nibbled.
His teeth closed over the area that had every objection mounting in her head fainting into surrender.
Encased in his arms felt like coming home. Her body recognized his, his mouth, the way he could electrify her with his touch.
Ash broke the kiss and released her, quickly catching her when she wobbled. “You still want me.” He gave her a satisfied smolder that had her anger returning in waves.
“You can kiss, I’ll give you that. Doesn’t mean I want you.”
“Want to put it to the test?
“Why you, arrogant moose turd.” She stepped back.
“Moose turd?” He laughed. “Still refusing to swear, are you?”
She fumed. “Curse words are a sign of a small mind.”
“You just insulted most of the population of Alaska.” He seemed to enjoy their banter.
How dare he when the very sight of him had her insides somersaulting. How could she work with him when she felt divided between throwing herself at him or just throw something at him?
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.
What? Now he regretted kissing her?
“I just had to know if you tasted the same.”
“For what purpose?”
“Call it nostalgia.”
A shadow of sadness swept over his expression. It disappeared so quickly, she wondered if she imagined it.
“I don’t have the luxury of living in the past,” she said. “I have work to do. Either it’s just business between us or you send someone else here from Bleu Carpentry to work with me until Quinn is feeling better. In fact, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”
“There’s no one but me. The others are working on the Atwood project.”
She straightened and did her best to steel her expression. “I’m sure you’d rather be helping Leia than being here. Trade places with Bart. He understands my vision. I can work with him.”
Now it was his turn to close off his expression.
Bart was a notorious flirt, had been since high school, and while Sorene enjoyed working with him, that’s as far as her relationship with Bart went no matter how many times he’d tried to talk her into more.
“That isn’t going to happen.” Ash bent down and picked up the clipboard he tossed to the floor when he grabbed her. “Let’s get started.”
“Actually, let’s not. Dad just gave me the job today, and I need some time to figure out my vision. We need to reschedule.” If Quinn had been here, they would have laughed and inspired each other until they came up with a winning plan. If she waited long enough for Quinn to kick whatever had him under the weather, she wouldn’t have to deal with Ash at all. That would be best for her state of mind—not to mention, her heart.
“Sorene—”
She held up a hand to ward him off. “You need to go.”
Ash searched her expression and seemed to come to a decision. “All right. I’ll drop in tomorrow.”
“I’ll call you when I’m ready.” Which would be never.
“Be ready tomorrow. I’ll be here at noon,” he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
How dare he? He didn’t dictate to her when they would meet.
“This is happening, Sorene. Get used to the idea. We’re working together. And just so you’re aware, we’ll be hashing out our relationship too.”
“Excuse me? We have no relationship.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. The kiss we just shared proved that we do. Don’t push it.”
“You can’t tell me to not push it. Who do you think you are?”
“The man you loved.”
“That’s right. Loved, as in past tense.”
“We’ll see about that.” One last longing look that caused her to shiver and then he turned, leaving her alone in the cold-soaked cabin.
Chapter 6
She needed to talk to someone.
Seeing Ash after all these years had rattled her more than she wanted to admit. It felt like forever since he’d been home; she’d started to think he’d never return. Had actually hoped for that very thing. The last few years she’d gone days without thinking of him constantly, until she met up with Quinn or ran into Leia and then the memories would hurtle back like a charging grizzly bear.
It was ridiculous that she hadn’t gotten over him by now. No one found the love of their life at fourteen.
They’d dreamed and planned for a future together. A future of traveling the world, getting married, having children, growing old, and dying in each other’s arms. Then her mom had fallen sick and reality pulverized those dreams into dust. To this day, she couldn’t picture herself or her life with anyone else other
than Ash. The only man she’d ever kissed had been Ash Bleu.
Maybe that was the problem.
Kennadee wasn’t available because of her EMT training in Fairbanks this week, and Sorene didn’t have the time to make the trek into the big city. Besides, Catronia was the more experienced of the three of them.
She hated to think of how experienced Zoe might be at her young age. A needle of worry over her little sister threaded in. Where had she gone wrong with her?
That was another problem to deal with later. Right now, she needed advice. She fished her phone out of her overall pocket and called Catronia.
Catronia answered on the third ring, sounding out of breath. “Heart Springs Eternal Spa and Resort.”
“Hey, Cat, do you have time for lunch today?”
“Sorene?” Disbelief sounded in Cat’s voice.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“When do you ever take lunch?”
“I eat lunch.”
“On the run, maybe. You never take time to go out for lunch.
“I need some advice,” she admitted, the words strained. She hated asking anyone for help, preferring to figure things out on her own.
“With Zoe? The best thing you can do with her is let her make her own mistakes. Life is the best teacher, as you’ve always counseled me.”
“It’s not about Zoe.” She paused and almost decided to end the conversation. But the memory of Ash’s kiss had her blurting out. “Ash Bleu is back in town.”
“Holy shit.” The sound of rustling pages carried over the line. “I can meet you at Pulse in twenty.”
“Perfect.”
“You okay, Sorene?”
“Not really.” She hated how small her voice sounded.
“Hang in there. We’ll figure out what to do about him. Don’t worry.”
“Thanks, Cat.” They disconnected and Sorene locked up her tools in the cabin and then drove to Pulse, the bistro cafe along the main artery of town. The sign overhead had a heart symbol intersected in the middle by an EKG graph.
Sorene arrived first and grabbed a table in the back corner to wait for Catronia. She didn’t have to wait long. Cat breezed in, graceful and beautiful with her cinnamon-colored hair, sleek black yoga outfit, which she’d paired with stylish boots, and a long, black coat that tucked in at the waist and flared at the hips.
Wild Heart Page 3
