Alaska Heart (10 page)

“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.

He ushered me to the door where Gypsy immediately got to her feet.

“Poor girl,” I said. “We’ve made you wait all this time while we stuffed our faces.”

Gypsy angled her head at me as if she understood my words, and for a moment I wasn’t sure she hadn’t. She nosed around me until I patted her. When I walked out the door, the dog followed closely behind me, but Dale didn’t.

“What’s wrong?” I paused on the last step.

“She’s sticking by you.”

“So?”

“She never follows anyone but me. I mean, she goes to people and lets people come to her, but she only follows me.”

Dale shook his head as he pulled the door shut behind him and came to stand before me.

“Maybe she likes me.”

“Maybe
I
like you.” He took a step closer, and a burst of peppermint rushed at me.

Thank you, Jerry. Dale nudged Gypsy aside with his knee and took my hand in his. I leaned against him—well, layers of coat technically—as he pulled lightly on my arm.

When his lips brushed against mine, they felt exactly as I had imagined they would all through dinner. Soft at first. Short nips while we got the feel of each other. It took only seconds for those nips to turn into something more heated, more urgent. Again, the wind had to be downright arctic around us, but I had no sense of it. I was only aware of the fire burning in my belly and points south.

My free hand found Dale’s shoulder, slinking to the back of his neck. His other arm encircled my waist now, anchoring me. We deepened the kiss, Dale’s lips turning on long dormant senses in my body, and I let myself go. Just go.

When we mutually ended the kiss, it was reluctant. Dale’s eyes were fiery in the dim parking lot light above us.

“Now that was better than the pie,” I said.

“That’s exactly what I was going to say.” He took my hand and walked me to my car. “Tomorrow, 7:00AM.” He raised my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on the back of it. “Get that solid eight hours of sleep. Good night.” He tapped his thigh, and Gypsy followed him as he walked back to the front door of the tavern.

“Eight hours of sleep, my ass,” I mumbled. More like eight hours of picturing Dale naked.

I sprang from bed the next morning, eager to see Denali—and Dale. Maybe it was the other way around. Dale first, then Denali. I couldn’t be sure. Kissing him last night had brought a rush of feeling I’d never felt in my life. He had awakened some part of me that had been shoved aside. Maybe I could have the kind of happiness that comes from being with someone amazing. Maybe it was possible.

I actually sang—not well, of course—in the shower as I thought about the day ahead. I played a killer air guitar solo as the steamy water rained on me, sending bits of the isolated, closed-off Alanna spiraling down the drain. In the vapors—lavender-scented—a more vibrant Alanna was rising. One who was possibly on her way to a promotion and who knew what else. Suddenly the unknown that lay ahead was more an exciting prospect than a daunting question mark.

As I toweled off, I shuffled through my clothing and selected a pair of long johns to wear under my jeans, a thermal long-sleeved T-shirt, a snug-fitting fleece sweatshirt, and the warmest socks I owned. Rifling through my underwear, I came across the black lace panty set I had thrown into my suitcase more to make me laugh than anything else at the time. Looking at it now, I wasn’t sure it would be completely useless on this particular trip anymore. It wouldn’t keep me warm in Denali, but it might heat things up later.

I cast my towel aside and slipped into the ebony camisole top. The smooth silk was cool against my shower-heated skin. The thin straps went over my shoulders and crisscrossed in the back. Delicate lace trimmed the neckline and the lower edge that skimmed my waist. The panty was the same soft silk, cut high on the legs and low on the waist.

Standing before the bathroom mirror, I inspected myself, which was not something I did frequently. The contrast of black silk against white skin made me look gothic, almost paranormal. I gathered my hair into a loose knot at the base of my neck and wasn’t totally displeased with the look. After layering on the other articles of more practical clothing and coiling a scarf around my neck, I inspected the finished product. If Dale were to get to the final layer, he’d be surprised at what he found there.

I hopped into my socks and secured my hiking boots. Grabbing the backpack I’d brought along, I stuffed my pen, binoculars, camera, and purse into it. A couple of bottles of water on top of that with Meg’s multi-tool in my jeans pocket, and I was ready. I hoisted the backpack onto my shoulder and snatched my jacket, hat, and gloves.

After bounding down the stairs to the main lobby of Moose Point, I stopped short on the last step. A tall man in the same baseball cap I’d been seeing for two days now leaned against the front desk talking to Bear. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but noticed a camera on a strap hanging from the man’s shoulder. Was he a guest at Moose Point or a native Alaskan? I couldn’t tell. Again, as my eyes zoomed in on the notebook wedged under the man’s arm, I concluded he was a writer too.

Notebook. I’d left mine upstairs. I hiked the stairs and jogged back to my room. It was nearing 7:00, and I didn’t want to keep Dale waiting. Okay, maybe
I
didn’t want to wait to see Dale.

I swiped my notebook off the nightstand, stuffed it into my pack, and jetted back to the lobby. Baseball cap man had again eluded me. I went into the sitting room to the right of the lobby, but it was empty. I didn’t have time to search for the man any further because, when I turned back around, someone else garnered my full attention.

“Morning,” Dale said as he walked over to me.

“Hi.” Molten lava gushed inside my veins. Dale had on his dark green jacket with a fur-trimmed hood. A gray knit hat stuck out of the jacket’s right pocket, and he fiddled with a pair of thick gray gloves. He looked as if he were trying to keep his hands busy. Maybe to keep from touching me, dare I speculate?

He motioned to my backpack. “Anything else you need to get?”

“Nope. Got everything right here, except food.” I patted the pack.

“I’ve got food covered.” Dale gestured outside. “It’s part of the tour package.”

“What’s this going to cost me?” I took a step closer to him.

“We’ll have to work out a payment plan.” He tugged on a loose tendril of my hair. It took all my resolve to not drag him upstairs to my room.

“I’m open to any kind of plan you have in mind,” I said.

“I’ll have to remember that,” Dale whispered. He pulled on my coat sleeve. “C’mon. We only have so much daylight, and we have a bit of a drive to get to Denali.”

I nodded and followed him past the front desk. Bear looked up as we went by, a genuine expression of delight blooming on the man’s face.

“Hey, Dale.”

“What’s up, Bear?”

“Nothing much. You know how quiet things are around here in winter. Once the Iditarod is over, we don’t see much action until summer.”

Bear’s dark eyes flitted over to me, scaring me just a little, and then back to Dale. “Where are you two headed?”

“Ms. Cormac here has a big, important article to write about Denali for her fancy New York magazine.” Dale rolled his eyes and pretended to be annoyed at having to take me to the park.

I poked him in the arm, and he poked me back. The simple, quick contact had my pulse jumping. Being with him all day was going to be an exercise in self-control—an exercise I rarely needed.

“Take it easy out there. The grizzlies are hungry this time of year.” Bear shot me a grin that fell somewhere between awkward and downright frightening.

“Oh, Bear.” Dale waved his hand. “You know grizzlies don’t fancy New Yorkers. Too chewy.”

Bear burst out in a deep, rumbling hoot as he shook Dale’s hand over the front desk. When Bear let go, Dale’s hand closed over my arm as he guided me toward the door.

“That’s the most I’ve heard that man speak.” I pushed open the door and stepped outside.

“And it’s a good thing you were there, or else he’d have chewed my ear into the afternoon.”

Hard for me to imagine Bear chewing anyone’s ear, but maybe he was only cool and aloof with outsiders like me.

“Hope you don’t mind if I invited two extra guests for this trip.” Dale corralled me over to a dark gray Mazda Tribute—a hybrid, no less. He earned bonus points for being green as well as attractive.

“Extra guests?” I hadn’t planned on a group experience. I wanted Dale all to myself. Why was that?

He opened the back passenger door of the SUV—also shiny like his truck—and Gypsy let out a friendly
woof
. Next to her was another impressive husky with two different colored eyes, one blue, one brown.

“Oh, how gorgeous!”

“Thanks.” Dale leaned against the Tribute. “Oh, you meant the dogs, huh?”

“Maybe I meant all of you.” I nudged him with my arm, and he laughed. The sound flooded through me, light and sunny, though it was still darkish out.

“That’s Zynk.” Dale pointed to the dog next to Gypsy. “He’s one of my team dogs. They’re the muscle of the sled team.”

“I’m glad to have them along.”

“Gypsy’s told Zynk all about you, and he’s eager to meet you.”

“Is that right?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Dale brushed past me to open the front passenger door. “Shall we?”

He swept his hand toward the seat. I tossed my pack inside and climbed in. A wet nose sniffed at my ear as soon as I sat, and I scrunched up my shoulders.

“Gypsy, no,” Dale said.

The dog immediately sat, her blue eyes apologetic.

“Sorry about that. She’s excited.”

“I don’t mind doggie kisses.” I turned to look at Dale.

“Good to know. I may get sloppy in my technique later.”

Dale walked around to the driver’s side and hopped in next to me. He started the SUV and pulled out of the parking lot. Only ten minutes into the trip, and I was already having the best time I’d had in years.

****

It wasn’t long before we were buzzing along at a good pace toward Denali. The roads were empty, a sharp contrast to the people littering New York. I settled into the ride, which was rare for me when I wasn’t the driver, but the scenery both outside and inside the vehicle amazed me.

“What’s that goofy smile for?” Dale tapped me on the arm.

“Is it goofy?” I angled myself against the door, so I could look at him better.

He darted his eyes my way and then back to the road. “If goofy means absolutely stunning then, yes, it’s wicked goofy.”

“You’re goofy too, by that definition.”

“Thank you.” The corner of his mouth turned up, creating a subtle dimple in his cheek. I pulled my glove off and reached over to press my index finger into the indentation. Dale’s grin widened, and the dimple deepened. Reluctantly, I drew my hand away, and a slight pout graced his lips.

“Not to worry. I plan to investigate that particular spot further.”

“That and other spots are open for investigation.” Dale’s left hand tightened on the steering wheel. Was he having trouble restraining himself too?

Gypsy’s low hum caught my attention, and I turned to look in the back seat. Zynk was licking her muzzle, and she got in a few licks on him every now and again.

“They’re mating partners.” Dale peeked in the rearview mirror at them. “Produced beautiful pups. Four of them are on my team now.”

Mating partners? Did that equal love for sled dogs?

“Do you sell pups?” I asked.

“Yes. Of the eighteen dogs I own, six of them are breeding pairs. When they have pups, I usually sell or donate the ones I don’t need to keep up my team.”

“Donate?” Gorgeous, environmentally friendly,
and
kind-hearted. What a combo!

“Yeah. I give some to an orphanage that has a pet program for the kids who live there. Others go to an old folks home in Anchorage that uses dogs as therapy.”

“Two good causes. I’ll bet they think you’re wonderful.”

His eyelashes angled up, angled down. From my side view, they looked even longer, feathery almost. He turned to look at me again, and my eyes targeted his mouth. The memory of last night’s kiss had my own lips tingling with anticipation for a second round. Maybe a third and fourth.

“I am wonderful,” Dale said.

“I think I knew that already. Otherwise I wouldn’t have kept emailing you.”

“I have to confess I use my computer a heck of a lot more than I used to, because I’m always checking for messages from you.” Again, his eyes flitted to me.

“It’s possible that when I saw ‘sled-dog16’ in my inbox, my stomach may have fluttered. Maybe just a bit.” I stuffed my hands back into my gloves to put a barrier between us. My finger, however, did not forget the feel of Dale’s face. It itched to explore. I pulled the gloves back off.

“Talking to you in person is much better.” He reached for my hand and gave it a light squeeze.

“I’d have to agree.” I looked down at his hand on mine. “How is this feeling?” I indicated his braced wrist.

“It’s in your lap, so I’d say it feels fantastic.”

I lightly punched his upper arm. “You know what I meant.”

“It throbbed all night, keeping me awake for a good long time. I finally got up and succumbed to the pain pills the doctor gave me. As I waited for that to kick in, kissing you in the parking lot at the bar kept me up.”

I gently massaged his exposed fingers. “Oh, good. Then I wasn’t the only one who was thrown off her usually stable, ultra-logical axis by that kiss.”