Wild Women of Alaska Collection

by Tiffinie Helmer

  “Hmm, that smells good too.” She splayed one hand across his chest where his heart pounded fast under her palm, and placed the other on his hard abs. She’d traced her tongue over those ridges last night and her mouth watered to do it again.

  “Jesse—”

  “Hey, I’m no longer just woman?” she teased.

  He turned off the heat and moved the pan to a cold burner. Shifting to the side, he broke out of her hold, and slowly turned to face her. His eyes flared as he took her in wearing his shirt. He lingered on the swell of her breasts revealed where the buttons gaped, and then his eyes traveled up to meet hers.

  She didn’t like what she saw and had to swallow past a lump that suddenly formed.

  “Why didn’t you tell me I was your first?” he asked, his voice sharp, cold.

  She took a step back. “What?”

  “Four months ago, I took your virginity.” He nodded at her surprise. “That’s right, I remember. I remember everything.”

  Oh, no. She shook her head, hoping she was still sleeping and having a nightmare. Where was the man who’d tenderly made love to her? Made her hope again? “I gave you my virginity,” she said, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. “You didn’t take it.”

  “Fuck.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and swore again. Then he took a minute to compose himself without doing a very good job of it. His next questions filleted back the protective layers she’d put in place over her heart. “How does someone get to your age and still be a virgin? Just how the fuck old are you?”

  “Twenty-four. And what does it matter?” She wrapped her arms around her middle. Weren’t men supposed to be all caveman and protective of the women they deflowered? And who the hell was he to be mad at her? “It’s just a hymen, Sloan. I hadn’t gotten around to getting rid of it because when Dad died in the accident I was too busy trying to hold onto the business and keep my mom from losing everything.”

  Besides, she hadn’t been tempted to sleep with a man until she’d met Sloan. He’d first seduced her with his words, his books, and his intelligence. Even though a large part of her wished she’d given his route to someone else after what had happened four months ago.

  “How many men have you been with since then?”

  “What?” Her eyes widened at his question. Was he upset because she hadn’t been with anyone besides him?

  “Just answer me. Have you slept with anyone else besides me?”

  “No.” This was a freaky twilight zone that she’d woken up in. The ground felt uneven under her feet, the air swirling around her frigid. Goosebumps rose on her exposed legs, and she wished she’d grabbed a blanket or yanked on her yoga pants. But then she would’ve had to search them out first, and when she’d seen Sloan standing at the stove, he was all she’d wanted.

  “Why does it matter?” she asked.

  “You don’t understand,” he said through gritted teeth. The muscles in his arms bunched as he clenched his hands.

  “Damn right, I don’t understand.” Anger was slow in coming, but she welcomed it as it burned through her, chasing the chill of pain. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

  He pointed to the table. “I took you on that table last night like a man…possessed. Crazed.”

  “Yes, you did. But you’re forgetting, I asked you to take me like that. Hard and fast. They were my words and whether you want to hear this or not, Sloan, I freaking loved every minute of it.”

  His nostrils flared, and he moved to take a step toward her before stopping himself. “Why did you sleep with me four months ago?”

  “If you remember everything, you know why.”

  “You said you loved me.” His voice was strained, his eyes wild as though he were being hunted and he wanted to bolt.

  “And you made me promise never to say it again.” He’d thrown her words back at her, called her a fool. Berated her immaturity and told her to get the hell out.

  “You can’t love me,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “I refuse to be responsible for anyone else, ever again.”

  “I’m responsible for myself, Sloan, including whatever feelings I currently have, or have had, for you.”

  His eyes narrowed at her use of ‘had’. She didn’t look away. If she did, he’d know. He might already know the truth if he spent more time considering actions than he did words.

  “Don’t worry, Sloan, I promised never to say the words again. I keep my promises. But I do deserve to know who she was?”

  “There wasn’t a woman. I lost my whole fucking team. Men that I’d trained with, worked and fought alongside until we thought as one. They were my family,” he rasped out. “I lost everyone I loved.”

  The pain and loss he must’ve endured brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to reach out and enfold him in her arms, soothe him, but his next words slapped her back.

  “I want you to leave me the hell alone. I won’t feel that kind of loss again. For anyone. I can’t.”

  “Then there isn’t a problem,” she softly said. “You don’t love me. If you lost me, why would it matter?” She held her breath and watched his throat convulse as he repeatedly swallowed.

  A small aircraft buzzed overhead, flying low and loud in the silence. She recognized that flyby. Cin must have conned Brody into coming to rescue her. “Sounds like the cavalry has arrived. I’m going to get dressed.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sloan stuffed his hands in his pocket to keep from reaching out and grabbing Jesse as she swept past him. He yearned to hold her in his arms and prevent her from leaving, but she was right. He didn’t want her.

  His body might ache with desire for her, but he couldn’t have her. Couldn’t risk it.

  She gathered up her clothes that were strung pretty much all over his cabin. Sparing him a fleeting glance, she disappeared inside the bathroom.

  The drone of the floatplane taxiing closer to the beach mirrored the humming inside his head. He reached for his coat and stepped into his boots.

  The snow blinded him for a second when he first stepped out onto his porch. When he could see clearly, he saw two people in the cockpit of the incoming plane.

  Ah, shit. He’d bet that was Cin sitting in the passenger seat.

  He’d have a face to go with her bitchy attitude when he talked to her. Now he knew why she’d turned on him. She used to be all friendly-like when he’d call in on the sat phone, but then she’d gone and turned sarcastic and downright mean, and he’d had no clue as to why until today.

  She’d probably want his head after she heard what had happened between Jesse and him this time.

  The plane nudged the shoreline and the pilot stepped out of the plane and onto the floats. He was young, clean-cut, with sandy hair. He waved at Sloan when he saw him. Cin climbed down and scowled, her eyes narrowed to slits. In her late forties or so, Cin was still, well…sin. She’d taken to her namesake like a trooper.

  There wasn’t much call for fashion in Alaska, but that didn’t stop Cin. Platinum blond hair—that had to be dyed—blew free in the wind. She wore a fuchsia jacket with fur at the collar, fur-trimmed boots, and if he weren’t mistaken, those jeans were not bought from the Gear Shed in Homer. Large silver earrings glinted like lures from her ears.

  The door opened behind him, and Jesse stepped out with her bag in tow.

  He frowned. “Where’s your coat?”

  She gestured to the plane. “Never had a chance to grab it before the rain started.”

  Don’t remind me. Last thing he needed was to remember her drenched, and how she’d looked with her clothes coating her skin like paint.

  “Jesse!” Cin yelled, leaping off the float to the shore and hurrying up through the six inches or so of snow.

  “Cin, you didn’t need to come.” Jesse moved forward to greet her.

  Sloan grabbed her arm. “Tell me where your coat is in the plane?” he asked. It was freezing, and the wind chill had the temperature feeling even colder.

  “I ca
n get it.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “Backseat.”

  He released her and passed Cin without a word as he trudged through the snow to the retrieve her jacket. Fool woman is going to catch her death if she isn’t careful.

  “You okay?” he heard Cin ask Jesse. He didn’t hear Jesse’s response, but he felt Cin’s eyes boring into his back.

  By the time he’d returned with Jesse’s coat, the pilot had secured the plane and was joining them.

  Jesse made the introductions. “Erich Sloan, I’d like you to meet Brody Hollander.”

  “Hey, man.” Brody held his hand out for a shake. “Thanks for taking care of our girl, here.”

  Sloan’s hand froze mid-shake. Our girl? He released Brody’s hand after gripping it hard, and cocked a brow in Jesse’s direction.

  Jesse ignored him. “I appreciate you coming out, Brody.” She took her coat from Sloan, thanking him, and wriggled into it.

  Brody turned and looked at Jesse’s plane beached in Sloan’s front yard. “Sure did a damn good job gettin’ her on dry land.”

  Jesse scoffed, but there was no humor in the sound. “Yeah, that I did.” She looked to the sky. “Must have been a bit bumpy up there.”

  “Naw. You know how I like a good ride.”

  The guy was dead.

  “Brody’s a fan of carnival rides,” Jesse quickly clarified as Sloan clenched his hands into fists.

  “I knew it!” Cin shrieked. “You slept with him again, didn’t you. What did I tell you the last time?”

  “Cin—”

  She pushed Jesse aside and stepped up to Sloan, getting right in his face. Her finger with the blood-red painted tips drilled into his chest. “So help me, if I have to put her back together again—”

  “Cin! Enough.”

  Cin flipped her head around, slapping Sloan with her blond hair. “He isn’t good for you.”

  “Leave it alone.” Jesse stared at Cin for a full beat before turning back to Brody. “Did you bring the supplies I asked for?”

  “Uh…yeah,” Brody answered, wide-eyed, looking from both women to Sloan. “The rivet gun and a piece of sheet metal like you told Cin. Got it all in the plane.” He hooked a finger over his shoulder.

  “Get it,” Jesse said.

  Brody hopped to do her bidding, obviously happy to be away from the tension that had dropped the temperature around them into single digits. Jesse headed toward her plane.

  Cin turned back to Sloan. “I know you were in the military and shit, but you hurt her and what I do to you will make combat seem like Sunday school.”

  He kept his mouth shut, though it was tough not to volley a comeback. Another steely-eyed glare, and Cin followed Jesse and Brody.

  It took the good part of an hour for Jesse to patch and rivet over the broken weld on the float. The three of them had rolled the plane into the water on the logs while Cin made herself at home in his kitchen. But she kept their coffee cups filled and hot, so Sloan didn’t complain too loudly.

  “I’ll shadow you in case you have issues like yesterday,” Brody said. “Keep her high and in the sky.”

  “I’m flying with you,” Cin said, moving toward Jesse’s plane.

  “No, you’re going back with Brody, in case there are issues,” Jesse said.

  “Jesse—”

  “Just do it, Cin. You won’t sway me on this. Plus, I don’t want anyone distracting me while I put her through her paces.”

  Cin pulled Jesse into a tight hug. “I don’t like it, and you’d better be safe,” she grumbled and released her, heading toward Brody and climbing into the Super Cub.

  Sloan didn’t like it either. What if the engine gave out again?

  Jesse turned back to Sloan where he stood silently. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this many people for this long at his place. He wanted them gone so he could be alone. He needed peace, craved it, which was why he didn’t understand this sudden burning in his gut to grab her and keep her grounded.

  Jesse moved to stand in front of him. “Is there anything you have to say before I leave?”

  For once he didn’t have words. The words to tell her to go or to ask her to stay, they weren’t there. He just looked at her. She nodded as if she understood, but what did she understand?

  He didn’t have a fucking clue.

  She cupped his cheek, reached up on her toes and kissed him. A soft brushing of her mouth against his that was over too soon. His hands clenched in the pockets of his jacket to keep from hauling her into his arms.

  “Take care of yourself, Sloan,” she murmured, her eyes sad yet full of empathy.

  Then she was gone, and he was alone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “The ice has got to be concrete by now,” Cin said. “Are you going to deliver this crazy-ass list of his?”

  Jesse had wrestled with this question since she’d returned to Homer. Maybe it would be better if she sent Brody with Sloan’s supplies. It’d be better for Sloan anyway, and for her. Chances were he’d be off in the woods somewhere if she did show up. If he avoided her like that again after what they’d shared, it would truly kill her this time.

  “Send Brody,” she told Cin not looking up from the schedule on her iPad. “In fact, give him the route.”

  “Good call. You don’t need that asshole anyway.”

  “He isn’t an asshole,” Jesse jumped in to defend before she could bite the words back. She’d called him that and worse. But he was her asshole, and she didn’t like anyone else calling him that.

  “Yes, he is,” Cin said. “He breaks your heart, he’s an asshole.” She turned and flounced out of Jesse’s office.

  Her lips twitched. Nothing like a best friend who was part mother bear in your corner.

  It had been two months since she’d left Sloan. Winter was in full swing. Snow and ice covered everything, and the nights had grown long and cold. Pining for Sloan made the nights even longer, colder. She really needed to move on and forget him. No matter how much it hurt not to see him again.

  She was here.

  Sloan grabbed his parka, slipped into his boots, and yanked open the door. The plane that skied to a stop on the sheet of ice in front of his cabin wasn’t Jesse’s.

  She wasn’t here. Shit, she wasn’t coming.

  The crushing thought almost sent him to his knees. She had to come. He couldn’t go one more day without her, without making things right between them.

  The last two months had been hell. Turned out he was the worst company to keep. The only thing that had saved him from going completely insane was his writing. Jesse had busted the doors wide open on his writer’s block when she’d flown away from him. He’d never typed so fast. Words battered him and refused to let him sleep, eat, or leave the cabin for too long. He’d only stopped when he’d been physically spent.

  The book was done, and he had to admit, while he’d taken a different path than any of his other books, this one was his best yet.

  Brody climbed down from the plane.

  “Where’s Jesse?” Sloan demanded.

  “Probably at The Edge about now,” Brody said, opening the luggage compartment.

  “The Edge is on my route.”

  “Yeah, well, business is booming, and she split the route. It was too big for one person and winter can get hairy anyway. Best not to rush the deliveries, know what I mean?”

  Sloan knew what Brody meant. Jesse wasn’t coming to see him any more. Well, he wasn’t having any of it. He turned toward the cabin.

  “Dude, where ya going? I’m not unloading all this stuff by myself.”

  “Keep it in the plane. It’s going back with us.”

  “Us?”

  “Give me ten minutes.”

  “For what?”

  “For me to pack a bag.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jesse hiked up to the building of JB Air Delivery Service, which was situated a couple hundred yards from Beluga Lake where she’d tied do
wn her plane. Brody was already back, his plane tucked in for the night. It was late. She’d stayed too long on The Edge enjoying some much needed girl time with Mel and Nicole while stuffing herself on the most delicious salmonberry pie she’d ever eaten.

  Brody’s SUV was still parked in the lot. She’d hoped he would be gone so she wouldn’t be tempted to ask how Sloan was doing.

  With a heavy heart, she climbed the stairs and entered the building and found a man waiting for her in the reception area. “Can I help you?” she asked, kicking the door shut behind her. She was wiped out and didn’t want to deal with a customer tonight.

  “Jesse,” the man said her name in the same voice that haunted her dreams.

  Her pack slid off her shoulder and she took a closer look at the clean-shaven, short-haired man dressed in new jeans and a button down cream-colored shirt. The brown eyes were the same, the cynical brows.

  Sloan?

  He looked…good. Younger, less jaded.

  “What did you do to yourself?” she asked. He needed to keep that face under wraps.

  He rubbed a hand over his smooth jaw. “Saw the barber this afternoon.”

  “Why?” Her heart leaped in her chest and then started beating at high velocity.

  He frowned. “What do you mean, why?”

  “Why would you do that?” She should be asking him why he was here, but she was afraid to know the answer. How he’d gotten here she’d pretty much already figured out.

  She glanced around. No Brody, in fact, no Cin either. Jesse would’ve preferred a buffer between her and Sloan. Brody would be getting a talking-to on Monday about leaving people unattended in the office. Cin never would have let Sloan stay, and she’d probably have killed him if she’d seen him.

  “I thought you might like this version of me better,” Sloan said. “Your skin—after we’d—it was red, chafed,” he finished.

  “You look nice…just weird.”

  “Weird?”

  “Okay, so maybe weird is the wrong word. Different.” Why were they having this discussion over facial hair? “What are you doing here, Sloan?”

  He took a step toward her. “Why didn’t you fly out to see me today?”