Alaska Heart

by Christine DePetrillo

  “Competitive, are we?”

  “Definitely. He’s got high expectations. And good taste.” Dale’s eyes wandered down the length of me. “You look fantastic.”

  “Likewise.” He had chosen a green thermal shirt that darkened his eyes to a seductive jade. It also showed off the taut muscles of his chest and arms hidden beneath the shirt.

  “I believe I remember an email that stated you had a weakness for a good sangria. Is that right?”

  “Yeah.” How had he remembered that tidbit?

  “Excellent. Uncle Jerry is mixing some as we speak.”

  “It pays to know the bartender.”

  “Dad has something special planned for dinner as well, so be prepared for first class treatment all the way.”

  “I wouldn’t settle for anything less.” I was oddly relaxed sitting with Dale. No jitters at all. No feeling as if I should be working instead. “So what’d you do today?”

  “Slept as I indicated I would.” The coy expression on his face hypnotized me. “Then Gypsy and I tended to all the other dogs.”

  “How many do you have?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “Holy shit. You have to take care of eighteen dogs every day?”

  “Yep. I like it though. They’re good dogs. They’re champions.”

  “Under your direction, of course.”

  “Of course.” Dale puffed out his chest in pride. Again, my gaze swooped to the contours of his chest. Couldn’t help but wonder what those muscles would feel like under my fingertips.

  “What else?” Had to stop fantasizing.

  “Repaired things around my house that I’d let go during race time. Small stuff. Busted gutter. Loose step on the porch. That sort of thing. Then Gypsy and I had books to return, which you already know. And now I’m here, where I’ve wanted to be since meeting you last night.” He paused to trace a finger across the back of my hand resting on the table. “What did you do today?”

  “Spent the whole day in the library. Got lost in many books. Took a few back to the hotel with me. Couldn’t resist.” I shrugged. “Made a sizable dent in the background info for my article.”

  “Ah, yes, your article. The ‘real’ reason you came to Alaska.” Dale winked at me.

  “It is the real reason.” I was prepared to launch into my I-don’t-make-illogical-decisions-to-visit-strangers-across-the-country speech, but Jerry came over with a pitcher and two glasses.

  “Dale said the lady fancies sangria?” Jerry set down the pitcher and poured the deep burgundy brew into the glasses.

  I took a sip. “Oh, Jerry. You’ve got the secret here.”

  “Glad you approve. Enjoy.” He abruptly slid off to a nearby table.

  “So, do you have a way with drinks or chicken?” I asked, taking another sip. “It seems to run in the family.”

  “I’ve been known to whip up something tasty now and again.” Dale held his glass to mine. I tapped mine to his as he said, “To face-to-face conversations.”

  “And to enjoying Alaska,” I added.

  “I’d like to help with that.” Dale drank and then set down his glass.

  “You already are.” I toyed with the end of my hair. Dale’s eyes shifted to my hand and then back to my face. He blinked slowly several times. Was he fantasizing too?

  “So you headed to Denali for this so-called story of yours?”

  “Yes, tomorrow actually.”

  “The best way to go to Denali is with someone who’s been going there for years, knows it like the back of his hand, and has a special access pass.”

  I grinned at his little plan. “And I suppose you know someone who fits that particular description?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He angled his left hand at himself. “Let me take you, Alanna.”

  “You’ve already helped me land this opportunity with your responses to my questions. I’ve bothered you enough.” The prospect of going to Denali with him made my stomach flutter excitedly. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy after your win, not acting as tour guide to some New Yorker.”

  “First of all,” Dale began, “you’re not ‘some New Yorker.’ It’s silly, I know, but I feel as if know you from all the emails. As if we’re friends already.”

  “Agreed. This”—I gestured between the two of us—“is familiar.”

  He nodded. “Besides, I told you to come here because I was going to get bored resting, and I am. I want to show you Denali. Please?”

  I didn’t want to seem too eager to accept, too easily swayed by him. “What about your wrist? Shouldn’t you be lying low?”

  “It’s nothing.” He looked to the brace still covering his right hand and forearm. “It’s actually pissing me off. I made it past the finish line no problem, and then the right wheel dog jerked to the left when a photographer snapped a picture. The whole sled nearly went right over. Instead of hopping off like I was supposed to, I clamped onto the sled handle and got jerked to the left as well. The pain was instant. Shot right up through my whole arm. Stupid, but it’ll be fine in a few weeks.”

  He set the full intensity of his green-eyed gaze on me. “C’mon. Just come to Denali with me.”

  Just come. Those words echoed in my head again. Words I still maintain did not get me to where I was currently. Listening to him actually say them, though, as he sat across from me, was far more difficult to ignore than an email.

  “If you’re sure you don’t mi—”

  “I don’t.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s go to Denali together.”

  “As you wish.” His remarkably full lips turned up at the corners.

  “You’re pretty pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” I leaned back in the booth and wrenched my gaze from his lips.

  “I’m always pleased when I get my way.” He arched an eyebrow, and my eyes zeroed back in on his lips.

  I was almost officially putty in his hands. Another couple of smiles, and I’d be defenseless against his charms. What the hell was happening to my walls? Walls years in the making shouldn’t crumble so easily.

  “Here it comes.” Ram’s deep voice broke the spell I was rapidly falling under, and I turned to look at him. He balanced two platters of food, steam wafting from them. “Two orders of my Cajun grilled cod sleeping on a bed of black bean rice with a side of slaw and buttered broccoli.”

  As he placed the platters in front of us, cumin and chili powder enticed my senses. “Ram, you’re a god.”

  “You got that right, sweetheart.” He whistled a tune as he retreated.

  “I feel as if I’ve known your father for years.” I placed my napkin in my lap and cut into the cod.

  “He’s everyone’s father. He’s always been that way, but more so since my mom died. I think it helps him deal with it better if he’s always talking to other people.”

  “Do you have any siblings?”

  “A sister. Lives a couple of streets over from here. Married to a detective, has three boys.”

  “Three. Yikes.”

  “Triplets. Age five.”

  “Good Goddess. There’s a special place in heaven for people like that.”

  “I agree, although my brother-in-law and my sister run a tight ship. Noah, Riley, and Mick are great kids.”

  “I’ll bet you’re the fun-loving uncle they climb all over and always want to visit.”

  “Indeed, I am. Sometimes I think they just want to see the dogs, though.”

  The rest of the dogs had to be amazing if they were anything like Gypsy, but I was more fascinated by the man.

  “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?” Dale shoveled a heap of rice and looked at me.

  “No. Only child.”

  “You’re one of those. I see.”

  “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you were spoiled. Your parents probably gave you every little thing you wanted.”

  “They did not.”

  “Did you have a puppy?”

  “Yeah, but—”r />
  “Horseback riding lessons?”

  “Well, yes, but I don’t see what—”

  “Could you maneuver your way out of trouble?”

  “I’m not answering anymore of these questions.”

  “That’s what a spoiled kid would say.”

  I swatted at Dale’s hand when he angled his fork toward my plate as if he were going to steal some of my dinner.

  “Where are your parents now?” he asked.

  “My mother died about seven years ago and my dad last year.”

  Dale cleared his throat. “Sorry to hear that, Alanna.”

  “Yeah, thanks. It’s pretty quiet without them.”

  Dale’s eyes were soft, consoling, without him having to say anything. “I can’t imagine what it’s like not having family buzzing around you all the time. It got quiet after my mom passed, but toss in a couple of triplets, boys no less, and things get back to loud pretty quick.”

  “Is your entire family as tight as you and Ram?”

  “Yeah, we’re pretty much in each other’s faces except during training. Then I disappear.”

  “I’m like that with work too. I forget the rest of the world exists sometimes when involved in a story.”

  “No time to date then, right?”

  When I looked up, Dale’s eyes were narrowed. “Is that your way of asking if I’ve got a boyfriend?”

  He nodded and glanced down at his hands.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend, and I’m pretty sure I suck at being a girlfriend. Can’t seem to find someone who can tear me away from writing my articles.”

  “You’re not writing now.” He reached across the table for my hand again. This time he slid his fingers between mine, and they fit together perfectly. “I’m glad you decided to come out with me. No pressure, okay? We’re two friends having dinner.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.” He couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be.

  He gave my hand a little squeeze and then released it. He picked up his fork and dove back into his dinner. We ate quietly, and it wasn’t an awkward, we’ve-run-out-of-things-to-say quiet. Rather, it was a words-aren’t-necessary quiet. A comfortable quiet.

  “Everything okay over here?” Ram poked his head up from the booth behind me. I think the silence had him worried.

  “Perfect,” I said.

  “Outstanding,” Dale added.

  “Wonderful.” Ram shifted into full smile mode as he slid from the booth. “I’ll go see about dessert.”

  “Perfect,” Dale said.

  “Outstanding,” I added.

  Ram paused for a moment and looked at the two of us. “Wonderful.” He raised his hands toward the ceiling.

  “He looks like he’s giving thanks,” I said as Ram walked away.

  “He is. Like you, I haven’t been on a date in five years at least.”

  “Why?”

  “Not many women willing to tolerate a man who obsesses over his eighteen dogs. Sure, the dogs are adorable at first, but they require a great deal of attention if they’re going to be ready to perform. I’m also kind of a lunatic around race time. Very scary.”

  “Aren’t we a pair?”

  “Hope so.”

  “You’re pretty charming for a lunatic.” I wiped my hands on the napkin on my lap. “You know that, right?”

  Dale’s lips twitched up. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yeah, right.” I sipped my sangria and narrowed my eyes at him. Either the drink was taking effect, or Dale was actually getting more attractive right before my eyes. Every chestnut strand of hair was in place. Those long eyelashes kissed solid cheekbones every time he blinked. The hint of a beard dusted around his mouth and chin. A masterpiece sitting across from me.

  Ram and Jerry interrupted my examination of Dale, capturing my attention only because of the fascinating dessert they had toted over to us.

  “Wow.” My eyes widened in pure delight.

  “Not chocolate peanut butter pie, Dad.” Dale looked defeated. “That’s not fair.”

  “Oh yes, my boy. Chocolate peanut butter pie. My secret weapon.” Ram laughed maniacally. Well, as much as a teddy bear of a man could laugh maniacally.

  “Secret weapon?” I had already picked up my fork, ready to attack the slice Jerry placed in front of me.

  “He makes this when he’s trying to win someone over.” Dale folded his arms across his chest and scowled at his father. The scowl never made it all the way to his eyes, however. Amusement still twinkled in them as he regarded Ram.

  “Oh, Ram.” I placed my hand on Ram’s forearm. I tugged him into the booth, and he settled beside me. “You won me over last night with those chicken wings. You don’t have to try anything else.” I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

  Ram held up two fingers to Dale. “That’s two kisses, son. Two. In one night. I’ve still got it.” He elbowed me as Dale glowered at him.

  “Isn’t there something burning in the kitchen, Dad?”

  Ram let out a puff of breath as I giggled. I enjoyed watching father and son toy with one another. Enjoyed the closeness the two of them shared.

  “Enjoy the pie,” Ram whispered in my ear as he scooted out of the booth.

  “Show off,” Dale mumbled as Ram and Jerry went back to the bar.

  I’d already taken a bite of the pie and was quickly losing my grip on reality. “Okay, you might not want to hear this, but I’m considering running away with your father if he promises to make this pie every day for the rest of my life. My friend, Meg, would kill for a dessert like this.”

  Meg had once wrestled me to the ground for the last peanut M & M. She would shoot me point-blank in the chest for this pie.

  “Meg,” Dale said. “She works with you, right?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Heavens, I was losing myself in a chocolate-encrusted, peanut-butter-mousse haze of bliss. “She’s my best friend. Like a sister, only much better on the eyes than me.”

  “How can that be possible?” Dale hadn’t touched his pie yet. Such restraint.

  “Oh, it’s possible. She’s taller, skinnier, darker, sexier, more exotic, more confident, a better dresser, and can balance on heels like a tightrope walker.”

  “I’ve always preferred a girl in hiking boots myself.”

  “Lucky for you, that’s in my wardrobe plans for tomorrow’s Denali expedition.”

  I scraped my fork along the plate in hopes of making the ecstasy last a few seconds more, but, alas, my pie was gone. Here were the makings of a true Shakespearian tragedy. Woman gets pie. Woman eats pie. Woman craves a second piece. Thighs and waistline won’t allow it. Pity.

  I eyed Dale’s piece still sitting intact on his plate. He slid the pie over to me.

  “Don’t do it, Dale. It’ll kill me.”

  “You sure?”

  I nodded, certain that if I opened my mouth to talk, the words, “Give it to me,” would tumble out. In three enormous bites, Dale made the pie disappear.

  “Bless you,” I said, lowering my head. “That was rather impressive.”

  “Tons of practice.” Dale sat back in the booth, cradling his right arm against his chest.

  “Your wrist hurting?”

  A little crease formed between his eyebrows. I had the urge to rub it away. A face as perfect as his shouldn’t look pained.

  “I probably used it too much today with the repairs I was doing.” Shrugging, he said, “I don’t know how to sit still.”

  “Sitting still is a lost art. None of us have time for it anymore.” I suddenly had an angle for my article. I patted the booth, forgetting I’d left my purse in the car.

  “Need something?”

  He leaned in, his face so close to mine. What I needed at that moment was to taste his lips. Focusing on them, I shook my head clear. “I wanted to jot down something for my article, but I—”

  I stopped when Dale slid out of the booth and sauntered off to the bar. Leaning over it—giving me a life-changing view of his ass
—he grabbed something and headed back.

  “Here you go.” He plopped down a pad and a pencil.

  “You’re nice to have around.”

  “I wouldn’t want anything to get in the way of you working on your big article.” He rolled his eyes.

  “There is an article. I swear it. Why would I spend all day in the library researching if I didn’t have an assignment?”

  “You’re probably just a geek.”

  “I am a geek, but that has nothing to do with it.” I finished jotting down my thoughts and ripped off the paper, stuffing it into my jeans pocket. On the next blank sheet I wrote, “Moose Point Resort, 7:00AM.” I ripped that sheet off as well and slid it over to Dale.

  “Where and when you’ll pick me up tomorrow morning.”

  “Got it.” He took the paper and folded it into a perfect square before putting it into his coat pocket. “Does this mean our evening is over?”

  “As much fun as I’m having, the geek is telling me to get a solid eight hours of sleep, so I will be prepared to hike with Mr. Iditarod through Denali.”

  “A wise geek, indeed.” His hand slid over mine, and I almost told the geek to shut the hell up so I could look at him for a while longer. “Let me walk you out to your car at least. Hang on one second.”

  Dale slid from the booth again, and, as he slipped on his jacket, he disappeared into the kitchen. While he was gone, I put on my own coat and headed for the bar. Jerry was behind it, mixing something bright pink. I helped myself to a mint from a glass bowl on the bar in case fresh breath became a necessity.

  “That’s why they’re there.” Jerry nodded. “Hope we’ll be seeing you again, Alanna.”

  “Definitely. Ram’s hit two home runs with his meals so far, and your sangria was magnificent.”

  “This is the best place for eating and drinking, alone or…”

  Dale came back out and stood beside me.

  “Not alone,” Jerry finished.

  “Ready?” Dale asked.

  “Uh-huh. Bye, Jerry.”

  “Bye now.” He tugged on Dale’s jacket and said in a not-so-quiet voice, “She had a mint, boy.”

  “She did? Hand one to me then.”

  Jerry tossed a mint to Dale. I rolled my eyes. “You guys are so subtle.”

  “And minty fresh,” Dale added.