Alaska Heart

by Christine DePetrillo

  I scowled at him but was angry at myself. My focus had abandoned me.

  “I’ve got to write this article, Dale. It’s already Wednesday.”

  “No,” he said calmly, though his hand clenched the steering wheel. “It’s only Wednesday.”

  Saying good-bye to him was going to suck.

  “I want to write while Denali is fresh in my mind.” I angled against the truck door to face him. “As it is the memory of the park is fading, due to other, more sensual memories crowding my mind.”

  Dale’s dimple enchanted me. “I’d say I was sorry, but…”

  “You’d be lying,” I finished.

  He nodded, an impish gleam in his eyes.

  “Come over tonight?”

  He looked at me so hopefully, I couldn’t say no. Okay, okay. I didn’t want to say no.

  “Sure. What time?”

  “Any time you’re done working.” He made quotation marks with his fingers. I swatted at him. He caught my wrist and brought my hand to his lips. “I’ll be home all day. Got more things to do around the house, and the dogs need exercise.”

  His right arm, still braced, rested against his thigh. During breakfast he had cradled it in his lap.

  “Take it easy, okay? I don’t want anything to impair your performance later.”

  He struggled to swallow. “You’re a vixen, Gaia-girl,” he said.

  Ha! Me, a vixen. Wait until Meg heard that one. She’d be so proud.

  When I walked by the front desk of Moose Point, Bear looked as if he hadn’t moved an inch since I’d left. His feet were slung over a small table, his nose still buried in a newspaper. He didn’t see me pass on my way to the stairs. Didn’t see me look at the mud caked on his boots. Didn’t see me wonder where he’d been last night while a young woman died at the hands of a lunatic.

  I pushed open the door to my room and dumped my bag onto a chair. I went back to the door and locked it, but that one lock and flimsy chain didn’t seem like enough to keep an intruder out. And why was it so quiet at the resort? Where was everyone? Why hadn’t I stayed with Dale?

  Dale. I shrugged out of my coat, flopped onto the bed, and focused on the beamed ceiling. How had I let things get to this point? In New York I’d never thought about needing someone to protect me. Living in the city, I figured if someone was going to get me, there wasn’t much I could do about it. I was always careful and ready to kick and scream should I be attacked. Here, in Alaska, however, I’d grown soft. Dale had jumpstarted my dead engine, and I was thinking about things besides my solitary existence, besides work. Things that involved coming home at the end of the day and having someone waiting for me at home. Someone who wanted to protect me, to love me.

  “Shit.” The word echoed in the room, and I let it hang there while I closed my eyes. In the darkness behind my lids, Dale’s face came into crystal-clear focus. Every freckle, every whisker, the dimple that drove me wild. I wanted all of it.

  “You’re being stupid, Cormac,” I warned myself. “You’ve gotten in too deep, too fast. Clear your head. Get to work.” A lovely pep talk.

  I rolled to sitting and dug out my laptop. While it powered up, I found my notebook and camera. Work. That would keep me from fantasizing for a little while. Nothing like a deadline to bring reality to the forefront.

  I pulled out a bottled water and stationed myself at the small desk in the room. I checked my email first to find a message from the governor confirming our interview appointment and four messages from Meg amongst the junk emails.

  mpetrisi:

  OMG! You found Iditarod Hunk? He’s a stud, isn’t he?

  mpetrisi:

  Where did you go for dinner? What did you eat? Is he gorgeous?

  mpetrisi:

  You’re killing me, Cormac! I NEED DETAILS!!!

  mpetrisi:

  Alanna? He’s a serial killer, isn’t he? You’re dead, aren’t you?

  Though I pulled stomach muscles cracking up over Meg’s emails, it was rotten to leave her hanging like that. I got up and rummaged around in my purse until my hands closed around my cell phone. After dialing Meg’s work number, I uploaded my Denali pictures while I waited for her to answer. Scrolling through the shots, my eyes focused on a picture of Dale and the dogs. Even in two dimensions, he looked tasty.

  “Damn.”

  “That’s a fine way to greet your best friend, Cormac.” Meg’s voice blared through the phone. “Glad to hear you’re not killed.”

  The cool contempt in Meg’s voice was not believable in the least. She couldn’t stay angry at me. “Sorry, Meg.” My sincerity wasn’t believable either.

  “Sorry for making me worry, or sorry for making me imagine all the sexual positions you’ve enjoyed with Iditarod Guy?”

  And just like that, the two of us burst into laughter.

  “Details. Now,” Meg commanded around a chuckle. “Don’t leave anything out.”

  When I finished my tale, Meg was speechless for a good thirty seconds, which is an incredibly long time for her to be quiet. She cleared her throat.

  “Hot damn, Alanna! Good for you. A promotion and a guy. Not a bad deal.”

  “I don’t have the promotion yet,” I said. “And I don’t get to keep the guy.” I couldn’t keep him. It wasn’t going to work.

  “The promotion is yours. I know it. And don’t eliminate the possibilities with Mr. Iditarod,” Meg said. “Enjoy yourself. You deserve it. You work hard and now is your chance to play hard. Or at least play with something hard and muscled.”

  She was right. Of course she was. Practical Alanna, however, couldn’t help but look three steps ahead and see the negative.

  “I’m…Meg, I’m—”

  “Afraid.”

  I let a long huff escape from my lungs. “You know me too well.”

  “From what you’ve said, this Dale character looks like a good find.” She paused for a moment. “Wait. A. Minute. Yum, kid. I searched for him online while we’ve been chatting. No wonder you’ve fallen under his spell. Ho-ly shit.”

  “I suppose he’s cute.”

  “Cute? He’s gorgeous, you lucky rat.”

  “How’s Matt?”

  “Matt who?” Meg giggled. “Matt’s wonderful, but Iditarod Dude is a work of art. Does he look as impressive naked?”

  “Meg!” My cheeks and certain other areas burned as I remembered a wonderfully naked Dale lying beside me in his sleigh bed.

  “What? If you want me to give you sound advice, sister, I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

  “Oh, Meg, I don’t know what I’m doing.” I rested my chin in my hand and shook my head.

  “None of us ever do, Alanna,” Meg said, surprising me. She always looked as if she knew exactly what she was doing when it came to men. “We try people out. If they manage to make us laugh, make us feel good, then great. If not, we move along to somebody else.”

  “That simple, huh?”

  “Not at all.” Meg chuckled. “But it sounded good, didn’t it?”

  “What would you do?”

  “Me?” Meg said. I pictured her biting at her bottom lip as she often did when she was thinking deeply. “I would ride the wave for as long as it lasts and see what happens. Either he’ll do something stupid that will make it easy to leave next Friday…or you’ll have the greatest two weeks you’ve ever had in your life. Who knows what else could happen? Anything’s possible.”

  “And nothing’s for sure.”

  “You got that right.”

  “Thanks, Meg.”

  “Anytime.”

  We chatted about work, my story, and Matt. Deeming ourselves up to date, we said good-bye, and I promised to call in a few days. Calmness washed over me after I hung up the phone. I was a little more centered after talking to Meg.

  Meg. Another reason I had to go back to New York. She was my best friend. I needed her. I liked to think she needed me too.

  I wrote for several hours, getting lost in my research notes and photos a
nd completely missing lunch. Normal for me. Eating took second place when I was composing one of my masterpieces. This article was destined for greatness. I was sure of it. Then again, the Alaskan landscape and a certain sled dog racer had inspired me.

  When my legs cramped from sitting so long, I indulged in a few yoga positions, stretching out the stiffness. I padded over to one of the huge windows in the room that overlooked the glorious pines surrounding the back of Moose Point. Deciding I had made good progress on my article, I donned my hiking boots and jacket. A walk in the woods might stimulate new ideas. A walk in the woods might also prove to myself I hadn’t completely abandoned my New York toughness. Only a badass, city-savvy chick would boldly stroll in the woods when news of a serial killer dominated local television. Right?

  I slipped out the back door of the lobby and took a deep breath of the cool afternoon air. That simple gesture kick-started my system. I navigated my way down the steps. My boots crunched in the little patch of snow at the bottom. Another set of footprints snaked their way into the pines, and I thought of turning around. I pushed that thought away as I fingered the multi-tool in my pocket. Deciding I’d never let the resort out of view, I followed the trail. Whoever made the prints was alone. They led to a running stream, one that hadn’t frozen over due to its fast flowing water. On a large boulder on the bank of the stream sat a man…with a baseball cap.

  The strap of a camera crossed his back, and the notebook I had seen under his arm before was on his lap. His hand moved rapidly over the page, and I hated to interrupt him, but I had to know if he was a writer. I hated to miss an opportunity to talk shop.

  A twig snapped beneath my boot, and the man’s head whipped around. So much for peeking over the guy’s shoulder as I’d planned.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” I walked toward him when he smiled. A nice smile. All his teeth seemed to be in order.

  “No problem.” He closed the notebook and stood. He towered over me by at least a foot and a half. I wasn’t used to feeling so small next to someone. “You’re staying here, right?”

  “Yes.” I took a step closer and extended my gloved hand. “I’m Alanna Cormac from Gaia magazine.”

  “Brian Turner, Expedition Earth.”

  My hand got lost in his oversized grip. His rust orange, heavy-duty coat made him look as if he were planning to spend the night outdoors. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes, but the rest of his face seemed friendly enough. Smooth, clean-shaven jaw. Aristocratic nose. Cheeks pinked with the cold.

  “Expedition Earth is what got me into writing about nature,” I gushed. “I have copies of that magazine from the late ’60s onward.”

  “I’ve only worked there for about five years, but it is a great magazine.”

  “Are you a writer or a photographer?” The camera dangling around his neck looked like an expensive piece of equipment.

  “Both. You?”

  “Same. I’m doing a piece on Denali. Might get me a promotion from this one.” I puffed out my chest.

  “There certainly is enough material to work with in Denali.”

  “A photographer’s dream.” My first thought was of Dale on film, however, not any of the wildlife I had captured.

  “How much longer are you in Alaska?” Brian reached down and dusted snow off his rather large boot.

  “The rest of this week and all of next. You?”

  “Same actually. Maybe we could swap notes?”

  “Sure.” I wouldn’t mind getting some feedback from someone who worked for a prestigious magazine like Expedition Earth. “Good luck with your story.” I edged away to continue my walk.

  “And to you as well.” Brian waved as he headed in the other direction back to the hotel.

  After giving Brian’s back a final glance, I trudged onward, following the stream as it meandered through the snow-covered woods. A tranquil silence hugged the trees. No cell phones ringing. No cars honking horns at pedestrians. No sirens screaming in pursuit.

  Instead, the stream gurgled softly. Snow shuffled from tree boughs. Wings fluttered high in the treetops.

  Walking alone in nature’s quiet serenity in the most picturesque state I’d ever visited, I realized why I worked for Gaia. Writing stories about nature forced me to connect with the Earth even in the middle of a busy, crowded, and often dirty city like New York. Gaia allowed me to stay in touch with that little girl who loved to dig in the dirt in her backyard in upstate New York. The magazine allowed me to play.

  I stopped for a few moments to sit on a fallen log and enjoy my surroundings. Though I was warm from walking, the cold nipped at my nose and cheeks. Without Dale, I couldn’t get that internal heat going on my own.

  “That’s enough of a break, Cormac.”

  I retraced my steps back to the hotel. This time I earned a nod of acknowledgement from both Bear and Brian as they chatted at the front desk. I hesitated for a moment. The way Brian casually leaned against the counter suggested he didn’t see Bear as a threat. Why should I? Brian looked as if he could hold his own against a man like Bear. As long as he was around, either as a protector or a witness, then I could stop and ask a question.

  “Bear, do you know of a good bakery nearby?”

  “Yep.”

  I rolled my eyes. Why did every conversation with this man seem like a visit to the dentist? Was he afraid to say too much?

  “Could you tell me where it is?”

  Brian cuffed Bear’s arm. “Bear, help the lady out, will you?”

  Bear scowled at Brian but then focused his tired eyes on me. “Two streets over, tear to the left. Sikik’s Sweets. That’s where you’ll find the best goods.”

  Brian nodded. “I went there this morning for breakfast. Apple cinnamon croissant like none other.” He put his hand over his heart and pretended to swoon.

  “Great. Thanks.”

  I twirled around and bounded up the stairs. I added a couple details garnered from my walk and finished up for the day. Then I shot a quick email to Meg.

  acormac:

  Going to Dale’s. Taking your advice. Will go with the flow and enjoy his body…I mean his company. ☺

  As I was going to shut down my laptop, another message on my personal email caught my attention.

  sled-dog16:

  I changed my mind about casual nudity in Fairbanks. Too cold or not, I’m all for it. Can’t wait to see you (naked) tonight.

  Heaven help me.

  I fumbled with shutting down my laptop, tidying the room, and deciding what to bring with me to Dale’s. Unfortunately, he had already seen my one set of naughty underwear. Nothing but floral prints left in my suitcase now. Oh, how I hoped he liked flowers.

  After tossing a small bag into the Explorer, I started the engine, but a rectangular square of paper flapping in the breeze under the windshield wiper caught my attention. I opened the door and grabbed it. Back in the driver’s seat, coaxing the heat to hurry the hell up, I unfolded the paper.

  Alanna,

  Directions to my house. I couldn’t help but notice you were watching me during the entire drive back to the hotel instead of paying attention to where we were going. Who can blame you?

  See you later,

  Dale

  The rest of the note gave turn-by-turn directions from the hotel to his house.

  Seeing more of Dale was stupid, but sometimes you just have to go ahead and be an idiot.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What’s in the box?”

  “Nice to see you too.” I waved the box beneath Dale’s nose, taunting, teasing.

  He took it from me and placed it on the kitchen island. Then he backed me against the refrigerator, and his lips were on mine quicker than I could register what was happening. My entire body—every inch of it—shot awake.

  I matched his fervor, hungry kiss after hungry kiss. The taste of him extinguished the longing that had built all day. My hands slithered into his hair. Soft. Full. Dale groaned and pressed his body firmly again
st mine. His arms slid inside my coat to wrap around my waist and pull me closer.

  I worked my lips around Dale’s whiskery chin and down his neck. His body went slack against mine as I explored the rim of his ear with my tongue.

  “Holy shit,” he rasped.

  “Don’t care what’s in the box now, do ya?” I purred into the crook of his neck.

  “Not really, no.” He stepped back to look at me, his eyes a hypnotic green. Blinking slowly, he shook his head. “Let me take your coat.”

  “Oh, the manners have kicked in now.” I poked him in the chest.

  “Sorry. Hormones take precedent over manners when it comes to you.” Dale tugged my coat from my shoulders. He hung it on a hook by the door next to his. I stared at the two jackets for a moment, liking the look of them side by side.

  Gypsy and Zynk galloped after one another into the kitchen. They skidded to a halt and tumbled into one another when they saw me. Gypsy righted herself and nipped at Zynk’s neck as if to tell him, “Knock it off. We have company.”

  She trotted over and pressed her muzzle against my thigh, her blue eyes sparkling. Zynk did the same and then licked all the fingers of my left hand before sitting back on his haunches next to Gypsy.

  Staring at my soaked fingers, I couldn’t cringe at the disgusting state of my hand. Dale’s dogs, the two closest to him, had accepted me and shown me affection. That overruled any innate instinct to immediately wash off the slobber.

  “They say animals can sense things about people we humans don’t pick up on. I’d say you’ve bewitched these two.”

  “Maybe I’m fixing to bewitch you.” I used my scarf to lasso Dale. He allowed me to catch him, and when I tightened the slack, his body was right where I wanted it.

  “Maybe you already have.” He set me on fire with his lips once more, using them to stimulate every nerve ending at once. He was a skilled explorer, traipsing confidently along my skin. My leg rubbed possessively along the length of his. His hand skimmed my thigh, and he pulled me closer still. The fingers of his other hand coiled in my hair.

  Pine and citrus, mixed with…what was that? Another fragrance. Something like…