Two Captains, One Chair: An Alaskan Romantic Comedy (12 page)

My gold nugget’s been stolen
, I thought.  I clamped my mouth shut.

I turned a little red as the silence lengthened and Ed scrubbed, but his eyes were on me.  You’d think, with all the talking I did, I’d develop a talent for lying.  But I never had. Usually I just told the truth; I dished the dirt.  Like right now; I was tempted to tell Ed he was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

Seriously, was there kitchen porn?  Because I was into it, if it existed.  Maybe next time I visited Helly, we could use her internet to find out.  Except the men in anything we found wouldn’t be Ed.

I frowned.  Unless he was secretly a porn star.  I looked him up and down, and decided it was possible.  He was a fine specimen of a man, under his excess of clothing.  The only thing that didn’t quite jive was the beard—unless it was seventies porn, of course.

Damn Helly for showing me those videos.  And damn me for having drank a bit and dredged up those memories.

“Are you still hungry?” Ed asked.

“No.  Why?”

“Because you’re looking at me like you looked at that peach crisp after you pulled it out of the oven.”

Okay, yes, I’d been ogling him.  Ogling him
again
.  Was he weirded out by it?  It didn’t seem so.

No, he looked amused.  And handsome.  And handy.

He glanced back at whatever he was scrubbing and my eyes caught on the clock over his head.  It was 10:45, and I had to get up early tomorrow. 
We
had to get up early, if he was still willing to help.

“You still coming barging with me tomorrow?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to, but it would be a huge help.”

“I’ll come,” he said, slanting a look at me.

“It’ll be an extra-long day.  I’ve gotta take a trip to Costco, and I’ve got four separate shopping lists.  I wouldn’t normally ask you to come, but I’ve also got another load of diesel, and I need help with those drums.”

“No problem.  How would you feel about staying in town overnight?” Ed asked.

“I… what?”

“I inherited Dad’s house in Anchorage.  I’ve got some errands to run in town, too.  How about I help you with your Costco trip tomorrow, and instead of rushing back to the landing that evening, we just stay the night at my place?  Come back in the morning.”

I slipped instantly into furious-thinking mode.  Was he suggesting what I thought he was suggesting?  Me spend the night at his place, alone with him?  Was he going to try something?  Did I want him to?  If I said yes now, would he take that as me saying yes to sex?  Did
I
want to? 

Well, yes, but Ed still had secrets.  I guess the better question was:  Did I want him without full disclosure?  Could I use his body the way I’d been planning on using the brothers’… or did I want more from him?

Maybe he misinterpreted my speechless stare, because Ed laughed.  “Suzy, I’ll help you.  I’d love to help you.  I’ll be here at six tomorrow morning, and we’ll go shopping.  You can take as long as you need, and I’ll help you with the drums.  We can come right back in, or we can stay overnight, your choice.”

I eyed him.  “I’d rather pick you up on the way in.”

“That’s fine.  Pick me up at my place, six a.m.  I’ll be there with bells on,” he said, setting a baking dish on the rack to drain.

A faint bit of brown marred the gleaming white ceramic, catching my eye.  I leaned over his dishpan.  “You missed a spot,” I said, tapping it with my nail.

Silence greeted my declaration, so I turned my head.

Ed was close.  Very, very close.  My knee had pressed against his hip when I moved.  My breast was inches from his chest.  His face was just above mine.

I licked my lips as heat flared.  Some of it was probably steam from the hot water beneath me, but the rest?  An intense chemical reaction that was all Ed.  His body called to mine.

I curled my fingers in the front of his shirt, delighting in the texture of it, the firm chest underneath.

He swallowed.  The silence was so complete, I could hear the fine popping of soap bubbles.  The catch of his breath as I leaned in.

Eyes still open, I brushed my lips over his.  They were as satiny soft as they looked.

He didn’t run, so I did it again.  More firmly.

One of his hands pulled up out of the water.  I could hear it dripping as he hesitated.

I slid my other hand around his neck.  Closed my eyes.  Breathed him in.

My body reacted, blood pounding, heat settling.  My breasts tingled, and dampness gathered between my legs.  I moaned softly against his mouth.

Water splashed as his hands came up.  They cradled my face, and suddenly he was kissing me back, angling our mouths to deepen the embrace.  The Ed from my yard, from my kitchen this afternoon, the one that’d looked at me over that generator, was back.

His tongue thrust in my mouth, and I found he tasted like peaches and cinnamon.  Like lust and secrets.

His hand slid down my hair.  Dragged down my back.

I tugged on his shirt.  Dug my fingers into his skin.  He was driving me out of my mind.  My blood pounded through my veins,
rushed
…

He pulled back slightly, gave me just enough room to murmur his name.  The sound was broken, wanting.  Then he was back, moving directly between my knees.

I sucked his lower lip into my mouth, loved the sound of his groan as I bit lightly down.  My thighs clasped around his hips, tugging.  Willing him closer.

I leaned into him, and the aching points of my nipples pressed against his chest.  The feel of his hands on me, holding me, only made them harder.

Our tongues tangled in a molten dance.  Our panting breaths were harsh, erotic.

An urgent, needy sound broke from my throat, and I rocked my hips toward his.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, and for no good reason… he let me go.  Ed stepped back.

I almost fell off the counter.

I tried to tug him back.  He resisted.

Then the phone rang.

I stared into Ed’s eyes, befuddled.

He stepped away to scoop my phone off the table.  He handed it to me, and then side-stepped to plunge his hands back into the dishpan.  I was suddenly jealous of my own dishes.

I closed my eyes a moment, then clicked ‘accept’ and lifted the phone to my ear.  “Yeah?”

“Suzy.”  The voice was crisp, authoritarian.

My dad’s.  And I could tell from that one word, he was angry.

Shit.
  “Yes?” I said cautiously.

“I’m going to have your friends arrested,” he said.  His voice was quiet.  It was never a good sign, my dad going quiet.

“What?  Why?”  My fingers tightened on the phone.  Which ones—though I had a damn good idea—and what had they done now?

“They need to be taught a lesson.  They can’t trespass and defile private property like they’ve been doing, and continue to get away with it.  They’ve done it for the last time.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded.

“As if you don’t know,” he mocked.

“I don’t.”  I slid down from the counter and started to pace.

“Their nocturnal visits?  Sex,” he said.  “On my picnic tables.  Ringing any bells?”

“Oh.” 
Holy hell, had Helly and Gary just gone over there?

“Yeah, ‘oh’.  I’m tired of it.  It’s disgusting.  Filthy.  Perverted.”

I rolled my eyes as he gave me a few more synonyms.

“I don’t have proof,” he said.  “But I will.  You tell them: One more time, one wrong move, and I’m sending them straight to jail.  It’ll be my pleasure.”

My eyes met Ed’s.  I wondered how much of this conversation he could hear.  “Okay, dad.  I’ll tell them.”

“I’m not kidding, Suzy.”

I sighed.  “I didn’t think for a second that you were.”

He didn’t say goodbye.  No, he just sort of grunted, and the line went dead.

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it.  Why couldn’t I have a normal dad?  Like Helly’s dad, all laissez faire.  Or Ed’s dad, lecherous, but otherwise a good guy.  Hell, any dad.  Any dad that didn’t cart around a chip on his shoulder the size of a Volkswagen, along with a bouquet of handcuffs.  He had no sense of humor, and honestly, sometimes I wondered how I sprang from his loins.

Ugh.
  I tossed my phone on the table.

“I should be going,” Ed said.

“Yeah,” I agreed.  That would probably be for the best, even though his kiss was still tingling on my lips.

Chapter
Eleven

W
e arrived at Costco just a shade before noon.  The barge trip to the landing had passed without incident, and the subsequent drive had given me lots of time to think.

Ed had kissed me.  I guess technically I’d kissed him, and he’d only kissed me back—both times—but I still couldn’t stop thinking about it.  Last night, Ed had stopped before it could really go anywhere, but while it lasted, it’d been… amazing.  Better than amazing.  And it had left me wanting more.

But Ed was hard to pin down.  Something was holding him back, and I didn’t know what it was.  His pursuing Helly in the past?  Or maybe he really was a virgin—though I doubted a virgin’s eyes could hold as many dark promises as his had in my kitchen last night.

As we crossed the parking lot to the main entrance, I dug the four shopping lists out of my purse.  I may have been a barge captain, but I still had a pretty purse.  I imagine I looked much more feminine than usual, as I’d also eschewed my overalls in favor of a pair of light brown corduroy pants and a slim, flowered T.

“Who’re you shopping for?” Ed asked.  He’d been on his best behavior this morning, sending me not so much as a steamy glance.

“Myself, Helly, Lane, and my parents asked for a few things.”

He went over and retrieved a flat cart, rightly assuming we’d need one.  I got another.

“They pay you to do their shopping?” he asked as we moved through the doors.

“They pay me to haul their groceries,” I said.  “I was already headed to Costco, so it wasn’t too far out of my way to get a few things for them.  They reimburse me.” 
Eventually.

He eyed my lists, probably noting each of them was verging on a foot long.  “You do this often?” he asked.

“Every time I go to Costco,” I said, pushing my cart on ahead.

The truth?  I’d done it once or twice as a favor, and now they expected me to get their items, too, every damn time I went to town.  Yes, I was slightly irked by it.  No, I didn’t want to discuss it with Ed.

We started over in the dried/boxed goods section, and we quickly realized there was no good way to be organized.  There were simply too many lists, and as we moved along, we wound up running back frequently to get this or that.

I fully expected Ed to lose his patience.  I’d brought Jimmie with me in the past, and had regretted it both times.  His behavior quickly devolved into pouting, and I’d barely gotten him to help push a cart.

But Ed?  He not only pushed a cart, but he also took two of the lists and busied himself finding things and crossing them off.  He also found a fair number of items on
my
two lists, and made me tingle every time he looked over my shoulder.

I liked watching him move, the smooth way he walked.  I saw more than a couple pairs of female eyes on him as he walked toward me with a 50 lb. bag of dog food slung over his shoulder.  He had an understated attractiveness, I decided, a shy charm that seemed to draw women like flies.  They kept striking up conversations with him about this or that—a spice they couldn’t find or the five gallon tub of mayo.

Their behavior was making me feel territorial, almost like I should go pee on his leg—except girls didn’t do that, did they?  And he wasn’t really mine, dammit.  Not yet, anyway.

He wasn’t returning their flirtations, so I carried on with my list.  Walking past the refrigerated section, I paused, looking at the jar of pesto.

“Not finding what you’re looking for?” Ed asked.

I waved my hand at the jar.  “I love pesto, but it seems like I’m never able to eat that much.  I get about halfway through, it gets shoved to the back of the fridge, I forget I have it, and the rest goes bad.”  Story of my Costco-shopping life.  Usually I just took one or two of whatever bundled items I bought my parents.  But they didn’t buy pesto.

“I’ll help you with it,” Ed offered.

I looked at him.

“I mean, if you’d like,” he said, literally backpedaling as he took a step back and almost tripped over his cart.

I smiled, appreciating how touchable he looked in that moment.  Those heavy flannel shirts he favored looked so damn soft.  I wanted to brush my fingers along the upper edge of his beard, and see if that pink tinge to his cheeks had made them warm.

“I’d love it,” I told him, and put the jar into my cart.  Then I tilted my head, giving him a coy look because I couldn’t seem to help myself.  “What else would you like to help me with?” I asked.

The lists crinkled in Ed’s hand.  His eyes flared hot, and then shifted.  He cleared his throat.  “Um,” he said.  And then, “Oh look, Honeycrisps.”  He hurried away to produce, leaving me grinning in his wake.

Seriously,
was
he a virgin?

I’d been pretty goal-oriented for the first part of the shopping trip, but after the pesto, I started to have fun.  I moved up behind Ed in front of the avocados, brushing against him as I peered at the display.  At a sample stand, I popped a juicy chunk of blood orange in my mouth.  Knowing he was watching me, I moaned with delight, and licked and sucked my fingers clean.  My nipples hardened in the refrigerated room, and instead of pulling my hoodie closer around me, I made sure Ed had a good view.

I felt a little like I was torturing him, watching him stumble and stutter and run.  And damn, but I enjoyed it.

But even more, I enjoyed the flares of interest there.  His breath had caught when I’d moved against him in front of the avocados.  He had stared at my mouth the whole time I was taunting him with the blood orange, his eyes dark.  They’d flicked up to mine, and for the barest of moments, I’d thought he was gonna shove the tray with all the little fruit cups off the woman’s sample table, toss me in its place, and take me right there in produce.  But instead, he’d taken a step back, pivoted crisply, and then hurried to the refrigerated room, which made me chuckle under my breath.

Of course I followed him.

I was going to ask him which lettuce he thought I should buy Lane, when he spun me around and pushed me back against the boxes.  I gasped with surprise, but then he was there, blocking my view.  He tilted my face up, and his mouth took mine.

Ed kissed me with hot, frustrated urgency, like I’d been teasing him for years.  He cupped my breast, his thumb rubbing across my erect nipple through my shirt.  The caress started a coiling, shocking heat.

I grasped his collar and pulled myself up into it.  I tangled my tongue with his, moaning as the force of his passion pressed me back.  The heat spread, plumping my breasts against his chest, making my limbs feel heavy.

Ed, with his hot hands and hotter mouth, took me by storm.  I forgot where we were, and knew only that I wanted him.

My hips bucked against his—and he let me go.  Just as quickly as he’d pressed against me, he stepped away.  Leaving me cool and wanting.

Braced against the lettuce boxes, I stood on shaky legs, panting and disoriented.  He looked down at me, his lips pink and wet.  His chest was moving fast under that soft flannel shirt, his eyes darkened with lust.

Then he smiled, leaned closer—

I tilted my chin up, reaching for him again.

—and he came away with a bag of romaine.

“No!” I protested as he stepped away and deposited the lettuce in his cart.

He flashed a grin at me over his shoulder as he moved on to the minced garlic.  I stared after him.

On the one hand, I wanted him back with an unfamiliar desperation.  On the other, he looked pretty darn pleased with himself, turning the tables on me like that.  I might have been irritated, but his smug expression was so damn cute.

I pressed my hand against my forehead, checking for fever as I reviewed what I’d just thought. 
Wow
.

We finished up at Costco without further incident, checked out, and my ardor finally cooled as we packed about three tons of groceries into the extended bed of my F350.  Then Ed navigated as I drove us up into an area of town called the Hillside.

“Seriously?  Ralph lived up here?” I asked, not believing it.  This was the rich part of town, populated with massive houses, each bigger and fancier, with more windows, retaining walls, and architectural detailing than the last.  Each had a gorgeous view over the Cook Inlet, which I imagined would light up with dramatic oranges and pinks at sunset.  Across the water was Mt. Susitna, and I could even see the snow-capped mountain range beyond.

Ralph had been a basic kind of guy, rough around the edges, and not at all hung up on appearances.  I couldn’t imagine him living in one of these mansions, or being willing to pay to heat it in winter.

“He was here first,” Ed said.  “He bought the land back in the seventies, built the house himself.”

We continued to climb up a network of switchbacks.  “This is ridiculous,” I said, gazing down at Anchorage stretched out below us.

Ralph’s house was at the very top, at the end of the road.  It was relatively small, a one-story ranch painted forest green.  The yard was shaded by big, mature trees, and as we pulled into the drive, I realized it was out on the side of a bluff with sweeping, panoramic views.

I shook my head.  “Wow.  Just… wow.  And he gave this to you?”

“Yeah.  But it’s a bitch to get up here in winter.”

I gave him a look.

Maybe he understood his complaint was ridiculous, because the corner of his mouth twitched upward.  “Back up to the garage door.  I’ve got a chest freezer in there.”

I did so, and we got the perishables unloaded and stored for the night.  Then Ed hopped into his truck, which he kept at the house, and I followed him back down the hill.

From there, we each went our own way.  I still had to go to the bank, and had a list of things I needed that I couldn’t buy at Costco.  Steel-toe boots, a new prop, that kind of thing.  And Ed had mentioned a welding supply store he wanted to visit.

We agreed to meet at the house later that evening.

“Y
ou’re still up,” Ed noted as I entered the living area.

I paused, squinting at him against the light.  He sat at the bar, a pile of papers in front of him.  With just the light over his head on, the rest of the house was swallowed in darkness.

Suddenly self-conscious, I pushed at my unruly hair.  I wasn’t wearing anything under my knee-length Hello Kitty night shirt, and Ed’s gaze had snagged on my hardened nipples, which tented the cotton.

“I have trouble sleeping sometimes,” I admitted.  Most of the time. My skin tingled as I watched him watch me, and remembered his touch from earlier today.

His eyebrows went up as his gaze traveled back to my face.  “Have you found anything that helps?”

“Um.” 
Orgasms
.  But it hadn’t felt right, getting myself off in his guest bedroom.

I blushed a little.  He was still watching me, those dark eyes strangely knowing.

He set his pen down atop the little pile of paperwork, and rephrased.  “How can I help?” he asked, his smooth voice rolling over me like a warm wave.

I shivered, pulling my arms around myself as I took him in.  Those broad shoulders were highlighted in the overhead light, which had also created deep, mysterious shadows under his brows.  He wore night pants, and a gray undershirt hugged his chest.

“Can I get a bowl of cereal?” I asked before I could beg for something less innocent.  He looked wicked in the low light, and excitement churned through me in a warm fizz.

“Cereal helps?” he asked.  He stood from his stool.

I nodded. 
Your tongue would be better
, I thought.

Ed hesitated.  “I’m not sure what Ralph had, but I’ll check the pantry.”

Wordlessly, I followed him into the kitchen.  He flicked on another bulb in the pantry, making me squint in the additional light.

As he dug around on the shelves, I admired the high shine of his hair, and the way his back and shoulders flexed under that thin shirt.  He was long and lean, and had—I decided, as I looked toward the floor—really shapely feet.

“Boxed milk okay?” he asked, pulling a carton of the highly pasteurized stuff from a shelf.

I nodded.

“It won’t be cold,” Ed said, looking apologetic.

I shrugged.  “S’okay.”  I backed up so he could pass by me with his finds.

He pulled open a cabinet, set a bowl on the counter, and opened the cereal box.  I leaned my hip against the counter next to him, content to watch him work.

“You’re not saying much,” he observed as he poured corn flakes into the bowl.  It wasn’t my favorite, but it’d do.

I shrugged again.  “It’s night.  I’m tired.”

His lips quirked, and his eyes sparkled as he regarded me.  “I never thought I’d see the day,” he said, “when the fountain of Suzy’s words ran dry.”

“It’s night,” I repeated, my tone dry.  There was something so sensuous about the way he poured the milk, the white fluid flooding the flakes, making them pop softly and dance.  My body reacted like he’d touched me, tightening.  I almost moaned.

Looking away from the naughty, naughty cereal didn’t help either.  Because beyond it was Ed, looking incredibly touchable in those polar fleece lounge pants.  His graceful movements were hypnotic, the way his muscles rippled...