Wild Fire (Alaska Wild Nights Book 3)

by Tiffinie Helmer

  “It might be fine for you two, but the last thing I need in my life is a man.”

  “I don’t know,” Zoe said. “I think a man is just what you need. And I bet a doctor knows all the pleasure points on the human body.” She waggled her eyebrows.

  “Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Kennadee asked, giving her a pointed look.

  “Don’t be like Meryl Streep’s character in Mamma Mia and lose your man.”

  “What I just watched had her sleeping with three men and getting pregnant, not knowing who the baby daddy was.”

  Zoe swatted her with the couch pillow. “You know what I mean. Love should be grabbed with both hands, not pushed away.”

  “And one thing you’re good at is pushing men away,” Catriona said.

  Sorene nodded in agreement.

  “I do not—well, not really.”

  “Have you had a real relationship, one that lasted longer than three dates?”

  “That rule is in place so I don’t get stuck in a relationship.”

  “Love doesn’t hurt, Kennadee, if anything it frees you,” Sorene said. “Don’t be so afraid to give your heart to someone.”

  She wasn’t afraid, she was smart. If she never gave her heart to someone, then she wouldn’t have to worry about it breaking.

  Chapter 12

  “Dad, you’ve outdone yourself.” Gideon looked around the camping section of Heart Bait and Tackle. A canopy was set over a small, round table draped with a soft cloth and sprinkled with red rose petals and set with tin plates and metal cups. An old lantern sat in the middle of the table with a candle lit inside the panes of glass. Patio lights had been strung around the canopy giving the area a romantic, magical feel. Soft music played in the background and a bait bucket the store sold held ice and a bottle of champagne.

  “This is much better than what I tried to pull off for prom. Thanks, Dad. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  “It was my pleasure. This little project gave me some ideas of my own. I need to up my game.”

  “You should try it on Mom.”

  “Naw, she’s made it clear she doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “That’s not true. She talks highly of you, never puts you down, and I’m sure she has some good basis to do so.”

  “Your mother has always been a class act,” Pete said wistfully.

  “Call her up and ask her out.”

  “I couldn’t. Besides, she’s in Oregon.” Pete shuffled his feet.

  “Not for long. I talked to her this morning, and she’s not content to take my word for it that I’m okay. She needs to see me with her own eyes.”

  “She’s coming here?” Pete’s brows rose to his hairline.

  “Should be arriving in a few days. Now’s your chance to put the past to rights. The worst that can happen is that she says no. You’ve been separated now for five years. If she truly didn’t want anything to do with you, she’d have filed for divorce.”

  “You do have a point there. I just might give it a try.” A spark entered his eyes.

  “You know dating isn’t that much different than fishing, you just need to know what type of bait to use for the type of fish you’re after.”

  Pete choked out a laugh. “Don’t ever let your mother hear you say that.”

  “It’s our secret. We Rasmussen men need to stick together.”

  “That we do. That we do, son.” Pete looked Gideon over. “Are you feeling up for this date? You sure you shouldn’t have waited, given yourself more time? You’ve only been out of the hospital a day.”

  “A day and a half.” And he wasn’t waiting any more time for Kennadee Wilde. He’d waited long enough. The kiss they’d shared overlooking what could have been the site of his demise reinforced his need to put his own past to rights. He’d always had feelings for Kennadee and he was a man now, not an infatuated boy.

  It was time for some serious fishing. He just hoped he had the right bait.

  Chapter 13

  Kennadee parked in the empty lot of Heart Bait and Tackle. Gideon had called earlier asking if she could meet him here for their date. Turns out he didn’t have a car as his had been towed to a junkyard. She’d laughed at that and mentioned he probably shouldn’t be driving so soon after being out of the hospital anyway.

  She climbed out of her truck and walked up the wide, wooden planks to the front door. The door swung open before she could reach for the caribou antler handle.

  “Hello, Kennadee,” Gideon greeted, drinking her in. When he looked at her with those smoldering brown eyes, heat spread from her belly out to her limbs, making them feel noodle-like. It was a new sensation, one that made her want to giggle like a teenager.

  “Hello, yourself. You look very nice.” He wore another suit, this one navy blue. Even sporting bandages over the bridge of his nose, stitches on his forehead, and matching black eyes, he was a sight to behold. “How are you feeling?”

  He ushered her into the sporting goods store and shut the door. “I have a feeling that I’m going to start hating that question. But to answer you, I rested pretty much all of yesterday as Dad refused to let me do anything for myself. He’s worse than a mother hen. I’ve also taken it easy today because I had tonight to look forward to.” He reached out and ran his fingers through the long strands of her hair. “I love your hair down like this.”

  “I need to cut it.” She suddenly had to swallow. His simple action had emotions she couldn’t name thickening her throat.

  “Please don’t.”

  “Fire season is coming up. It gets in the way.”

  “I’ve heard some women restrain their hair in braids to keep it out of their way.” He smiled.

  “Could work, but then I’d have to learn how to braid hair.”

  “Forever the tomboy, aren’t you? Here, let me take your coat.”

  “Are we staying here?” She figured that she’d pick him up, and they would head to the Pump House or the Malamute Saloon. His dressed-up attire caused her to feel dowdy in her simple jeans and sweater, and she smoothed both in reaction to her nervousness.

  “I hope you don’t mind.” He helped her slip out of her coat and laid it over the checkout counter, frowning when he noticed she didn’t have her arm in the required sling. “How’s your shoulder? Shouldn’t you be wearing your sling?”

  She should, but since she hated the thing, she’d left it at home. “I’m being careful. Don’t worry.”

  He narrowed his eyes as if he wanted to examine her, and the thought of him playing doctor sent a thrill through her that she did her best to stomp down. This was so unlike her. She’d never been one to war with her emotions but being around Gideon had them in disarray.

  “I’m sure your doctor would have a few choice things to say about you not following his advice,” he said, taking her good arm in his and leading her through the store.

  “As I’m sure yours would have something to say about you on a date when you should be home in bed resting.”

  “Touché.” He guided her through the fishing department toward camping, and realization dawned.

  “You didn’t?”

  “Didn’t what?” he asked, smiling down at her. The warmth flooding through her stomach developed butterfly wings.

  “Prom,” she said. “We had dinner here in a tent, if I remember correctly.”

  “As that night ended with me getting you naked, I figured why mess with a sure thing.”

  “Sure thing, huh? Think again, buddy. The way I remember it, you were broke and couldn’t afford to take me to a proper restaurant.”

  “Some truth to that, but you did give me points for my creativity.”

  He ushered her into the camping area, and she gasped when she saw the scene arrayed before her. “This is enchanting. You did all this after just having surgery a few days ago?” She slapped his arm. “What were you thinking?”

  He laughed. “I had a lot of help, and I mainly gave directions.”

  What he
’d accomplished was a step up from pizza in a tent while sitting on a floor of cushions. This fit the term “glamping” which she’d heard described as glamour camping.

  He held a camp chair out for her. “My lady.”

  Tickled more than she liked to admit, she sat. Gideon stood behind her a second or two longer than necessary. He leaned down and sniffed her neck, causing goose bumps to erupt over her skin.

  “Hmm, you smell nice,” he murmured. “What perfume are you wearing?”

  “Uh, I’m not,” she whispered, words suddenly hard to formulate.

  He sniffed again, lingering, then kissed the side of her neck. “Don’t ever cover up with heavy perfumes. Your natural scent is enough to bring a man to his knees.”

  Wow, he’d learned some moves since they’d gone out last. It made her wonder how he’d learned them and who he’d practiced them on. A tinge of jealously entered her discombobulated emotions, confusing her. She never felt jealous. What was wrong with her tonight?

  He straightened and picked up a bottle of champagne, slowly working the cork free. It gave a satisfying pop when it released.

  “Did you steal this bottle too?” she asked. He’d produced a bottle of champagne on prom night, too, but that one had been fleeced as they were both too young to drink. His smooth moves had the bottle of champagne uncorked without any liquid bubbling up. Much different than the last bottle they’d shared when champagne had sprayed them both.

  He flashed her a smile. “We were a wild pair, weren’t we?” He poured champagne into tin cups.

  “No champagne glasses?” she teased.

  “And ruin the aesthetic?” He winked. It should have felt corny—on most men, it would have—but on Gideon it was sexy as hell when he gave her that crooked smile—the one that said he knew all her secrets—and a wink from those perceptive brown eyes.

  Her insides turned to jelly.

  He set the bottle of champagne back in the ice bucket and held up his cup for a toast. “To old lovers reconnecting.”

  She paused, holding her cup in the air. Did sleeping together one time make them old lovers? Or was she splitting hairs, seeing too much into the situation, looking for something to keep him at arm’s length? She clicked his tin cup and watched as he drank, his eyes never leaving hers.

  Woo boy. She didn’t need the champagne to make her head spin. Whatever spell Gideon wove did that just fine. She drank anyway to quench her thirst, even knowing champagne wasn’t what she thirsted for.

  It was him.

  She couldn’t remember another time she’d felt such a powerful yearning for a man. Not since she’d been sixteen and had slept with him. She hadn’t planned on losing her virginity that night, even though a lot of teenagers gave it up on prom night. It hadn’t even entered her mind, until Gideon had gazed at her across a scene too similar to this one. None of the other men she’d been with created this need, this desire to chuck everything into the wind and just see where the thrill of the ride took her. It gave her that same sensation of standing at the door of an open plane, ready to smoke jump into a raging wildfire.

  “Are you hungry?” Gideon asked, taking his seat across from her, the angles of his face more prominent in the candlelight. He reminded her of a brigand, charming and dangerous, the kind of man mothers warned their daughters to stay away from lest they ruin their reputations.

  “Kennadee?” he asked, looking at her with concern. “Are you okay?”

  “Uh, yes. Sorry. What were you saying?” Get it together, woman.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Damn right she was, but suddenly not for food. She squirmed in her chair and that crooked smile of his appeared again. She had the crazy feeling he could read her like one of his medical books.

  “What’s on the menu?” she asked. “Pizza like last time?”

  “Actually, you’re in for a surprise. I asked Dad to prepare the menu for tonight. He, in his infinite wisdom, asked your father for help with your favorite foods. So, any blame for the dinner will fall on you.” He flipped open the lid of a cooler that sat on the floor next to his chair and pulled out two large bowls covered in tinfoil. He set one in front of her and, with the flare of a French waiter, revealed the contents hidden underneath.

  Macaroni and cheese.

  She couldn’t help herself and dissolved into a fit of giggles.

  Gideon watched her, smiling. He obviously knew what the bowls contained. “I have to admit, I was astounded that this is your favorite food. Most women your age have a more—how should I say this without insulting you—a more developed palate, or would it be better to praise the fact that you are definitely not a high maintenance girl?”

  “Macaroni and cheese was my favorite food when I was a little girl, and the only thing my father knew how to cook. Pray tell, what did he choose for dessert?”

  “He did better there.” Out of the cooler, Gideon produced chocolate pudding cups, a package of Nutter Butters and a carton of milk. “Apparently, you like to use Nutter Butters as a spoon while eating your chocolate pudding.”

  She laughed again. “I have to admit, I still eat my pudding with cookie spoons.” And it was still one of her favorite treats. Her mother had taught her that trick, and Kennadee had many sweet memories of sneaking out of bed and sharing the treat with her mom in the muted light of the kitchen while her siblings slept.

  “What else is in the cooler?” she asked, dying to see what Pete and her dad had put together.

  He grimaced and pulled out a plate of charred hotdogs. “Dad thought the mac and cheese was too simple so he barbequed some hotdogs in case we wanted to cut them up and add them to our entrée.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of him.” She grinned.

  “He also thought we needed appetizers and packed his favorite. Jalapeño poppers wrapped in bacon from the Pump House.”

  “Good grief, what are our fathers feeding themselves?”

  “That was my thought exactly. I do believe I’ll make an appointment for Dad with a nutritionist.”

  “You should make it a double appointment, and my dad can go too—though I doubt it would do any good.”

  “They are a bit set in their ways.” He offered her the plate of jalapeño poppers. “In the meantime, would you care for an appetizer?”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” She popped a pepper in her mouth, loving the bite of heat with the cooling cream cheese and crunch of bacon. Her eyes closed on a moan. “Damn, these are good.”

  Gideon ate one and then reached for his champagne cup, gasping from the heat. He gulped, fanning his mouth as if that would put out the fire.

  “That won’t work,” she said. “Open the milk.”

  He did and drank from the carton. “Damn, those are hot.”

  “Not that hot. You’re a wuss.” She smiled and popped another into her mouth. She loved spicy food and was known to use sriracha sauce like most people used ketchup.

  He pushed the plate toward her. “I think I’ll stick with the mac and cheese.”

  “Actually, the poppers would taste amazing in the mac and cheese.” He looked at her with such horror that she couldn’t help herself and laughed. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d enjoyed a man’s company so much. If ever.

  They ate their dinner, followed by scooping pudding out of cups with the peanut butter cookies. Gideon kept her tin cup topped off with champagne, but it wasn’t the champagne making her giddy and lighthearted. She decided to enjoy herself, see where the evening took her, and not examine things so closely.

  Tomorrow would be soon enough for that.

  Gideon cleared the plates by dumping them in the cooler. He stood and offered her his hand. “This night would not be complete without us sharing a dance or two.”

  She took his hand and rose. “Is that a good idea? Dancing would definitely be off Dr. Cooke’s recovery list for you.” Not to mention, dangerous for her with these feelings coursing through her concerning him. What she really needed was some dista
nce so she could think.

  “Then we’ll have to take it real slow.” He gently pulled her into his arms, being careful of her shoulder. Wrapping his arms around her, Kennadee found herself settling into his embrace like they’d danced in high school. His hands weren’t placed properly—if anything, they were a bit low, tucking into the back pockets of her jeans. If they’d been at a school dance, a chaperone would definitely tap him on the shoulder and give him a stern talking to.

  Something slow and dreamy started to play over the speakers. She didn’t recognize it, but it had a familiarity to it as if she’d heard this kind of music growing up. “Did our fathers choose the playlist too?”

  “Hmm, yes, they did. Any complaints?”

  “Not a one. This is nice.” Too nice.

  Gideon raised his head to look into her eyes, and she was snared by the heat in his gaze. “The last time I enjoyed the company of a woman this much was ten years ago.”

  “I’m sure that isn’t true. There must have been a lot of women you’ve been with over the last decade.” There had to be because he’d sure learned how to turn on the charm without being cheesy.

  “Not as many as you might think. I did have to get through medical school and then my residency. That pretty much took up all my time.”

  “There was no one serious?” She couldn’t help but ask.

  “Not a one. What about you? Has anyone turned your head?” His eyes bored into hers as if he waited on bated breath for her answer.

  “Remember how I told you I don’t date a man more than three times? Keeping to that model limits the chance for a serious relationship.”

  “I mean to change that,” he said, his expression determined.

  “It’s been a hard-and-fast rule of mine. One that works. I’m not looking for anything serious.” It had kept her heart safe, and she had a feeling that particular organ was very much in jeopardy with Gideon.

  “I’ve always enjoyed a challenge.” He cupped her face, and his mouth swooped down and captured hers, catching her off guard. Which had to be his plan. She had a feeling he meant to keep her off guard as much as he could.