by Kay Lyons
So she’d done her research. “Mount Redoubt is the closest volcano and most recently active, but Mount Spur isn’t far. Truth is since the 1760s fifty of Alaska’s volcanoes have had some activity.”
“Don’t tell my mother. It’ll give her something else to worry about.”
Dylan helped her climb to the top of the pitted boulder and watched as Alexandra quickly set to work, aiming the lens, shifting her posture to change the angle. Fifteen minutes passed, twenty. He’d lost track by the time she was finished and lowered herself to sit next to him.
Alexandra cycled through the images on the camera screen and showed him her favorites. She had talent. The photos really captured the feel of their location.
“It’s no wonder you want to keep it from becoming crowded with tourists. It’s a good thing it’s cold and it takes a while to get here, otherwise it would be overrun. It’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” She turned from gazing at the lake to looking at him. “My granddad would have said it was only a taste of what’s waiting. I mean, look at it. There’s something about the air and the smells and the views that make you appreciate every pebble. The mountains…they’re almost like a big hug. Am I right?”
His first impression of Alexandra at the airport wasn’t his impression of her now. His concerns about her possible subterfuge at photographing Colt were no longer even present.
To keep from focusing too much on that revelation, he watched as she dug into her backpack and pulled out a bag of trail mix, offering him some.
Dylan took off his glove and held out his hand for her to fill. Alexandra cupped her hand under his to catch any overflow as she poured, the cold of her hand seeping into his skin.
“Can we stay here? Just a little while longer? It’s so peaceful.”
Dylan stretched out his left leg and got comfortable. The quiet was soothing, the company…surprisingly nice.
For the first time in a long time, he set aside his worries and anger and decided to take the moment, the woman, at face value. “We can stay as long as you like.”
Chapter 7
THAT EVENING ALEX LEFT the older men out by the bonfire rehashing stories of their youth and made her way into the lodge. She was stuffed full of fish, grilled potatoes and apple pie, and since Dylan had packed up his guitar earlier to put Colt to bed, the fire didn’t appeal quite as much as it had.
Between her hikes, fly-fishing and the bonfire, plus the meals Zeke had prepared so far, she’d experienced enough of the lodge to begin sketching out a draft of her review.
After spending the afternoon with him on that boulder and knowing how Dylan felt about sharing his slice of paradise, she felt guilty about writing something that would entice Traveling Single’s readers to come to the lodge. But that was her job and why she’d been sent there. It had to be done.
In her room she changed into her flannel pajamas, then pulled out her computer for the first time since arriving.
Work. She needed to focus on work, getting the review done before her personal vacation began, and not focus on Dylan or his reaction. Besides, from the impression she had, Dylan would be leaving his father’s lodge soon.
While her computer booted, Alex grabbed her toiletries and headed to the bathroom to wash her face. On the way back to her room, she heard Dylan’s voice from within Colt’s bedroom and paused.
“What do you think? Toad’s a pretty cool dude, isn’t he?”
No response, or if Colt did respond, she didn’t hear it.
“I think so. Come on, bub, lights out. I’ll read the rest tomorrow.”
Even though she told herself to keep walking, she couldn’t. She leaned against the wall and listened to the nighttime ritual, struck by the sweetness of it.
“Time for prayers.”
There was movement behind the door, the sound of the bed squeaking, then Dylan began reciting a childhood prayer in his husky voice. Smiling, Alex closed her eyes and silently repeated the words with him, her thoughts shifting to her family in Tennessee.
“Amen. Good night, bub. Remember what I said, okay? You need to stick close to me and Grandpa, and you don’t let anyone take pictures. If you’re ever not sure of something or you feel scared or upset, you come tell us. I love you, Colt.”
Alex straightened, hurt by the fact Dylan was warning his child because of her even as, rationally, she knew all good parents had the same conversation with their children.
Thinking of her niece and nephews and the baby her best friend had recently lost, a pang of homesickness hit that she didn’t expect.
She and Shelby had been best friends since childhood. She didn’t want to fight. Alex simply wanted Shelby to see what she was throwing away by so quickly abandoning her marriage to Alex’s brother.
Shelby was right when she accused Alex of barely visiting beyond a weekend here or there. For a while now she’d taken every assignment David was willing to dole out so she didn’t have to witness everyone pairing up and—
Colt’s bedroom door opened abruptly. Dylan walked out, catching her post makeup removal and sad from her thoughts. “Um, hi.”
Dylan closed the door and moved closer to where she stood, his gaze zeroing in on her face much to her mortification.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She lifted her hand to her hair, realized she still wore the headband she used when she washed her face, and yanked it out. “I was just… Sorry,” she said with a flustered wince.
“For what?”
Was it only this morning that she’d asked the same question of him? “I was eavesdropping. I heard you saying prayers and I stopped to listen.” And think. She missed home.
“What would your mother think about you doing that?” Dylan asked.
“Mmm…that’s easy. She’d tell me I was rude. But I have a good reason,” she argued, careful to keep her tone low.
“And what’s that?”
Maybe it was the dimness of the hall or the mood she found herself in but she didn’t hesitate to tell Dylan what was on her mind. “I was standing here trying to figure out if I have what it takes.” He looked surprised by her response. And very confused. Poor guy, she was probably putting all sorts of thoughts in his head.
Then as though he read her thoughts, he said, “You mean with your family?”
“Yeah.” She wasn’t sure how to explain or how he knew what she meant. Whenever she went home she found herself balking at having to always report her activities. No one in her family could do anything without having to call someone in the family to report in.
She knew marriage and relationships of all kinds meant certain considerations had to be given to other people, but it was yet another reason she bucked the constraints of settling down.
She waved a hand at the door. “That was very sweet. You’re making good memories,” she told him. “The kind he’ll always remember. When I was little and I spent the night at my grandparents’ house, my granddad used to give me piggyback rides to bed. He’d plop me down and tell me a story, then we’d say the same prayer you said.” She shrugged, her emotions regarding the memory and her thoughts of family bittersweet. “I miss him, I miss that feeling of…security, I guess you could say. You don’t have that once you reach a certain age, though, huh?” she said softly. “Anyway, know you’re making good memories with him.”
Dylan had reverted to staring at her as though he didn’t have a clue how to take her rambling comments. Right now, neither did she. She only wanted him to know he was a good person because something in her saw the struggle he faced with Zeke and identified with it.
“Are you always so blunt?”
“Usually. Scary isn’t it?” She curled her sock-encased toes on the cold wood floor and grinned at him. “And now you look a little glazed over so I’m going to go.”
“Don’t.” Dylan stopped her attempt to duck into her bedroom with a hand on her upper arm.
Alex took a breath, barely able to take in enough air when Dylan shifted his han
d to her jaw, his knuckles skimming the contour of her face. He wanted to kiss her, she could tell that, but something restrained him. All sorts of thoughts flew through her head as to what.
His gaze lowered to her mouth as he leaned close. His molasses-slow descent gave her time to pull away but she didn’t. This was a man she wouldn’t mind getting to know, even while she ignored the voice in her head that cried foul and conflict of interest over the review she had yet to write.
What was a kiss in the scheme of things?
Her lashes drifted shut, her heart rate increased, pounding in her ears. She felt the very air between them charge with that zing. Finally their lips were on the verge of touching—oh, so close—when Colt’s door opened.
She and Dylan jerked apart like two teenagers caught in the act when the porch light was flicked on by a tired parent.
“Hey, buddy. What are you doing up?”
Colt regarded her with what she was beginning to consider his bottomless stare, his brown eyes sleepy but full of questions and curiosity.
“Come on, Colt. I’ll tuck you back into bed.”
Alex fumbled for her doorknob and gripped it in her damp hand. “Good night, Dylan. Sweet dreams, Colt.”
Inside her room she paused to catch her breath and purge the thoughts of Dylan following through with that almost-kiss and tucking her into bed.
No, no, no. She was here for business, hadn’t yet written the review and had only days left before she’d fly to Anchorage to begin her two-week vacation. What was she thinking? And why had she talked to him about her family? It was as though she opened her mouth and blurted anything and everything on her mind.
Alex moaned softly. She could flirt to her heart’s content, enjoy her time with Dylan because they shared some commonalities—strange as that seemed—but things between them couldn’t go further. It was unprofessional—and a really lousy idea for a lot of reasons.
Moving to the bed, Alex sat down with her laptop. Doing some research on fly-fishing was the perfect distraction.
Except, she remembered, the lodge didn’t have a satellite connection and she had no cell signal.
Crud.
It wasn’t normal to be this isolated. Every lodge typically had something, a radio at least. What about Zeke’s guests? Not having easy access to the outside world was definitely a strike against the business and one that would have to be noted in her review.
Alex grabbed her camera from beside the bed, removed the SD card and inserted it into the computer to download the photos she’d taken before the generator shut down. The images flashed onto the screen one by one. The interior and exterior of the lodge, the lake, the trees and mountains.
Dylan.
There was no denying her interest and attraction to him. And the near kiss?
Shaking her head at herself, Alex clicked on the button to go back to the photo she’d snapped of Dylan pulling away in the truck after their argument. She increased the size, zoomed in and stared at Dylan’s profile.
Handsome and rugged, his face had character. Lines and crevices depicting deep, undeniable sorrow were clearly etched with…bitterness? Resignation? Definite sadness.
Because of Colt’s mother?
The only time Dylan had spoken of her he hadn’t called her his wife, only Colt’s mother. So had they been married? Were they separated or divorced at the time of her death? Together?
Alex fixated on the slight hint of a cleft in his chin the beard nearly disguised. She saw not a bad boy, but a masculine orneriness she found infinitely attractive. A man who had lived and experienced things, not just the fire that marred the skin of his hands.
Alex settled more comfortably into the comfort of her bed, never taking her eyes off the photo.
There was something else there. What was it?
No matter how long she stared, she couldn’t put her finger on what. But there was definitely something…
She’d promised Zeke she’d delete the photo but she hadn’t said when. It was a small point but an important one.
Until getting the assignment to visit Deadwood Mountain Lodge, she’d never heard of it, and the photos in the brochure hadn’t included any of Dylan.
So what was it about Dylan that made her feel as if she’d seen him before?
* * *
SEVERAL HOURS LATER DYLAN rolled over in bed and watched the rolling waves of the auroras outside his window reflect off the ceiling. He was exhausted from the long day but he couldn’t sleep.
Alexandra’s hallway confession had surprised him and given him a glimpse of vulnerability he hadn’t expected to see. She was obviously close to her family but feeling the pressure. It was a connection they shared.
As to why he’d nearly kissed her…that wasn’t as easy to answer. He thought of her smile and her spirited comebacks, the fact that she’d seemingly accepted his scars and truly didn’t appear bothered by them. Alexandra hadn’t flinched when he’d touched her face, unlike Belinda— Colt’s former nanny and, at one time, Dylan’s friend—who’d averted her eyes and avoided the most innocent of contacts.
But Alexandra’s feelings could change. How would she react if she knew the story behind the marks? Would she be so accepting then?
Hollywood-style fame rarely changed. Out of sight, out of mind. But after having every book he’d written turned into a movie on the silver screen and gaining quite a bit of notoriety, was that really the case for him? With the fire and the ensuing drama was he really out of mind? Would enough time ever pass when he wasn’t a target for those people who made a living tracking down former rock-bottom celebrities, one-hit wonders and child stars for the sole purpose of populating where-are-they-now reports?
His twentieth book had hit the shelves a month before Lauren’s death, his twenty-first and last rushed through production to take advantage of the hype surrounding his arrest and the ongoing uproar created when Belinda sold pictures of him and Colt to the tabloids.
The nanny had also sold photos of Dylan with her, photos that were nothing but shots taken from wrong angles, that implied an affair and resurfaced rumors of Lauren’s death being deliberate.
His books had flown off the shelves but one after another, his house of cards had come crashing down, revealing the fact that money couldn’t ensure security or safety, and nothing could ever loosen the knot in his stomach that had formed when doctors declared Colt’s trauma-induced mutism as no longer temporary but ongoing.
Dylan placed the heels of his palms against his eyes and rubbed. He was tired but sleep was nowhere to be found. He thought of the peace he’d felt sitting on the boulder with Alexandra, and when another wave of light shimmered across the ceiling, Dylan rolled to the edge of the bed. He dressed and seconds later stood outside Alexandra’s door calling himself a fool even as he knocked softly. “It’s Dylan. Dress warm, and grab your camera. I want to show you something.”
From inside the room he heard her respond with a groggy “Coming.”
Surprisingly, he didn’t have to wait long. She emerged into the hall fully dressed, her jeans haphazardly tucked into her hiking boots, the pajamas she’d worn earlier sticking out from beneath a wooly sweater. Her hair clung to the side of her pillow-creased cheek.
Reaching out, he smoothed the hair away with one finger, wishing his scars weren’t as severe and he was better able to feel the texture of her skin rather than only the warmth of it. Thank God he still had full use of his fingers.
“Zip up,” he ordered softly. “It’s cold out.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” As with the walk to the boulder, he took her equipment and shouldered it, pulling on his gloves while she zipped her coat and yanked her hat over her head.
That done, Alexandra reclaimed her camera and side by side they walked down the hall to the front of the lodge.
“Sky’s putting on a good show tonight.” Dylan opened the door for her, unable to stop the smile that formed at her gasp of surprise. Fool or
not, he liked that he could give her this. “I heard you tell Walter that you’ve never seen the northern lights.”
“I haven’t. Oh, they’re beautiful!” She breathed the words, her low voice filled with awe.
Beautiful. Yes, she was. “Want to take a walk?”
“I’m so there.”
Chapter 8
THE KNOT IN DYLAN’S STOMACH cinched tighter at her enthusiastic response. He was heading into dangerous territory but something strong, something invisible, drew him.
Dylan led Alexandra across the wooden dock, glad Ansel and Walter and the others were all snoring loud enough to blow off the roof so he and Alexandra could share the experience alone.
At the end of the structure he set her camera gear in one of the two Adirondack-style chairs Zeke had built.
“Wow. Oh, wow. Look at that.” Alexandra’s face was uplifted, her eyes sparkling.
He couldn’t look away.
“It’s purple. I knew the lights were green sometimes, but not purple. It’s almost pink. Is it always like this?”
The shutter on her camera clicked rapidly before she lowered the device and stared at him as though he’d handed her the moon. He finally remembered her question when she raised both eyebrows, a quizzical smile hovering on her full lips.
“No. This is one of the more colorful shows.”
“It’s gorgeous. Thank you for waking me up so I didn’t miss it.”
“No problem. To get the warmest room, you sacrifice a window. Sorry about that.”
“My room’s fine,” she said, raising the camera into position at her eye. “I like being warm and it’s very cozy,” she said, her words muffled a bit by the device in front of her face.
Alexandra looked down and fiddled with the settings, but he caught the glint of her eyes watching him from beneath her lashes.
Nervous? That was surprising. Then again he was rapidly learning everything about her was surprising and intriguing. Sexy. Why the looks? Unless she was also thinking of what had almost happened outside her room?
