Warming Trend (32 page)

It was definitely time to hit the sack, Eve had concluded, when Lisa sighed and pointed into the sky. “I saw a falling star. And I think those are the lights coming up.”

They all followed Lisa’s gesture and Ani confirmed it. “Yep, that’s the lights. I wish I weren’t so tired—they’re going to be very pretty tonight.”

“I’m whacked,” Eve admitted. “I have got to get warm and asleep, and soon.”

“Why don’t you get settled, then I’ll come in. There’s not enough room for two people to be shifting around at the same time.”

Lisa pointed at a constellation. “I’ve never seen stars like a white blanket—it’s beautiful.”

“That thick atmosphere that keeps you warm is hiding heaven from you.” Tan sounded very indulgent and Eve was comforted by it, somehow. Maybe it was that someone else’s course of true love might be easier than hers had proven to be.

Eve stowed her cup and the remnants of the second packet of brownies and crawled into the low tent. Sitting up was out of the question. It was just high enough that she could rest on one elbow and maybe not brush the roof. She knew the physics of tents—by morning there would be condensate from their breath frozen to the inside of the polymer fabric. When the sun hit it, the condensate would melt and anyone foolish enough to still be sleeping got a drip-drip wake-up call.

She unzipped her sleeping bag and slithered in after removing only her boots. It took several minutes, but in time she had wiggled out of her snowsuit and ejected it from the bag, which allowed her to zip it to her stomach. A little more wiggling and she had the snowpants and jacket in position to act as a pillow. She zipped the bag the rest of the way, rolled awkwardly onto her side and thought, My, my, isn’t this comfy.

Ani heard the rustlings and soft-voiced mutterings inside the tent cease, followed by the sound of a long zipper pull. She said quietly, “Knock, knock?”

“Come on in.”

She was used to the tent crawl, and had done it many times. Shoes off, bag open, outer snowpants off, get in bag as fast as her butt would allow, zip up and off with the jacket. Jacket turned inside out for pillow, zip the rest of the way up, done in about forty-five seconds. The bag immediately warmed and her body began to relax. “Are you warm enough?”

“Yes. Thanks. You?”

“Yes. Remember, I’ve got that long, lost Russian blood.”

“How could I forget?”

There wasn’t anything to say, really, and the silence was awkward. Ani thought through the events of the day, and woke herself up by remembering the heart-stopping moment when she’d realized Eve was falling. She tried to think of sweeter things, like dancing on a glacier with Eve, which eased her pulse. Thinking about making love to Eve was also sweet, but it sent her heart rate right back up.

She didn’t know how long it had been, but it was long enough that she thought Eve was asleep. It was easier, thinking Eve wasn’t listening to her ragged breathing. She didn’t need Eve to know what she was thinking. That, given the temperature, they would have about fifteen minutes with their bags unzipped before the cold overcame the heat she thought they were both feeling. There was a lot of ache that could be eased in just fifteen minutes, even if it didn’t even begin to ease their need for each other. There had been plenty of times they had taken less than that to leave each other with satisfied smiles.

“Are you awake?” It was only a whisper.

Ani answered in kind. “Yes.”

“Cold?”

“No. I’m just having trouble shutting off my brain.” There, that was better than saying she was fantasizing about how quickly she could wring that little half-cry out of Eve, the one she had always loved to hear.

“I wish that were my problem.”

The silence had changed, and the voices inside Ani were calling her names. She’d been gutless before, run away instead of talking, retreated instead of acting. She’d behaved as if Eve wasn’t half of shaping how their relationship went. If she kissed Eve now, Eve could say stop, like she had last night. Making that decision for Eve wasn’t fair.

At least, that’s what her libido was telling her. Her common sense said they both needed sleep. Her heart said it would burst if she didn’t at least kiss Eve goodnight.

“Ani?” Eve’s voice was so soft in the low dark, in response to the sound of Ani’s sleeping bag zipper.

Ani could tell the pale orb of Eve’s face from the surrounding sleeping bag. She touched her gently with her fingers, then cupped her cheeks. It was the simplest of caresses, but it filled her with a bright, clear joy. To her wonder, Eve turned her head and kissed Ani’s palm.

“Eve…I don’t know how we went wrong, when everything was so right.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Ani’s hand stilled. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Hell, Ani, I don’t want to talk. Kiss me.”

Ani didn’t even try to hide her gasp. Eve had always been able to punch the breath out of her. She moved toward her and their lips met, tender and soft.

They broke apart when Eve reflexively tried to move her arms, trapped in the sleeping bag, and their noses bumped.

With a giggle, Eve said, “I told Lisa she and Tan might get stuck together if they smooched in the tent.”

Ani was glad to release some of her tension with a laugh. “With the heat they’d generate?”

Eve finally got her zipper down low enough to free her arms. “What do they know about heat?”

She pulled Ani to her, nothing tender or soft about this kiss. Ani finally trusted that Eve was as hungry as she was. She fumbled with both their zippers, and arms wound around waists. Eve breathed out Ani’s name—she loved that sound. Ani didn’t think they were slipping back in time. This wasn’t for old-time’s sake, but a new beginning, the first of a lifetime of kisses.

Her fingers felt seared by the heat of Eve’s back when she slipped her hand under her thermal shirt. Skin—she had missed Eve’s skin. Their kisses grew more feverish as they arched together. Ani moaned when Eve trailed kisses down her throat, finally nuzzling in the notch of her collarbone.

Ani found Eve’s breast and squeezed possessively, drawing a shocked, responsive gasp. Ani had not forgotten, even if the woman in her arms was still sometimes a stranger.

“Please,” Eve whispered. “I want to be yours again.”

If Ani had any instinct at all for love, this was not the time to hide herself. “I haven’t known where I am ever since I left. Getting lost in you seems the only way to find myself again.”

“Touch me.”

“Are you sure? Your arms are getting cold. Your hand—”

Eve’s kiss left no doubt, and she pushed Ani’s hand from her breast, downward. “Please.”

Ani pulled them as close together as possible, trying to preserve their body heat, trying to be sensible while her body was rolling and pulsing like the northern lights. “I won’t leave you again, Eve. I will tend bar if I have to, to stay here and live with you. Work the tourist guide trade, anything. But I’m not leaving. You’re the only place that matters.”

It was the loving laugh that undid her. “Ani, stop talking.”

There were no more words after that. She pushed her hand under Eve’s clothes, shivered when her fingertips swam into the slick sweetness she remembered. She knew what Eve liked, how to please her, how to increase the ache. Then, how to end it. She loved touching Eve. Her response was eager, and Ani felt a kind of powerful pleasure that nothing else in life ever gave her.

She loved Alaska, she loved the cold beauty of the northern lights and she loved her father’s legacy. None of them equaled Eve.

She pulled Eve against her, one arm holding her close and tight as she glided easily inside her. On a bed, in a warm room, she would be deeper, gentler, she would be everything. But right now there was the urgency and their need. She trapped Eve’s cry in a kiss, felt Eve swell under her, and didn’t care that she covered Eve’s face with tears.

* * *

Nothing makes you feel as old as sleeping on the ground does. That was Eve’s first thought when she woke. Her hips were sore, her shoulders ached and her hand was stiff. Somehow, though, she didn’t feel nearly as bad as she thought she might.

She opened her eyes and everything from the night flooded back. She was Ani’s again, and had been stretched to the stars and back. Ani’s face was only inches from hers, visible in what Eve took to be pre-dawn light. Her expression was easy in sleep. Her nose was adorably pinked by cold.

Had Ani really said those words? That she wouldn’t ever leave? Made promises in the night she hadn’t ever made before? It would never be as if those three years hadn’t been lost. But Eve knew, if they tried, they could make it so the lost years didn’t matter.

It was probably nearly four a.m., and looking at Ani was the best wake-up Eve could have hoped for. She smiled to herself as she slowly lowered the zipper on her sleeping bag. She could make Ani’s wake up pleasant, oh yes she could.

Her hands free of the sleeping bag, she held them against her lips and nose to take away some of the chill. Then, leaning forward those few inches, she nibbled at Ani’s lower lip. Ani wrinkled her nose, as if trying to figure out what was tickling her.

Another nibble and she felt Ani take a deeper breath. Her body uncoiled and Eve rolled toward her. She couldn’t stop smiling this morning, and Ani’s sleepy greeting only deepened her joy.

“Good morning to you, too.” Eve kissed her more soundly. “Don’t open your eyes. Let me take care of everything.”

Ani sighed against her. “You are better than any alarm clock.”

The zipper on Ani’s bag eased down. “I should hope so.”

“Oh. I thought you were going to take care of starting hot water.”

Eve paused with her hand on Ani’s waist. “I was going to get something hot. But if you’re not…”

Ani tangled their fingers, then moved Eve’s hand downward. “Time for chores later.”

“Damn right. You are not a chore.” Eve feathered a kiss across Ani’s mouth. “I love doing this. You have always been…very relaxed in the morning.”

Ani’s low laugh of agreement was cut short by a groan. “No teasing.”

“Teasing later. Right now, just this.” Eve nuzzled at Ani’s ear lobe. Her fingers toyed with the damp curls, parted them and found the well-remembered places. Her mouth watered and she swallowed convulsively—that thirst would have to wait. Right now Ani’s breathing had gone ragged, and right now, this was what her love wanted, this circling, magic dance only women knew, and one Eve wanted to share with Ani for all the years they could have.

Ani arched and Eve held tight to her body, loving the stretch of muscles, the tautness of Ani’s ribs, even the difference in their height that let her bury her face in Ani’s shirt while her fingers circled, swirled, teased, then pressed inward until Ani’s shudders slowed, then stopped.

They were still for several minutes, wrapped in each other’s arms. Eve was aware of the rising light, then the sunlight touched the edge of the tent, illuminating them both. Daybreak.

Ani smiled at her, eyes bright with emotion. “This is the best morning ever.”

Eve was about to agree when a drop of very cold water landed on her forehead. She looked up—yep, the frozen condensate on the roof of the tent was melting as the sun moved over it. “We have to get up, don’t we?”

“Only if we want to stay dry.”

“I’m not dry.”

Ani’s smile was wicked. “Would you like me to confirm that?”

“Later. Let’s do what we came to do.”

Ani gathered her up. “You mean you didn’t come to do me?”

Eve giggled. “There are so many juvenile responses I could make to that.”

“I feel so good.”

Seriously, Eve said, “I’m glad.”

A drop landed on Ani’s eyebrow. “Okay.” Ani unzipped her bag and in less time than Eve would have thought possible, pulled on her snowsuit, zipped it, and got into her gloves. She rolled over onto her sleeping bag, zipped it as well, and, with a practiced motion, rolled it into a tight coil, all without touching the increasingly sodden tent roof.

It was impressive. Eve knew she was grinning. So she was besotted—it felt
wonderful
.

Ani opened the tent flap, then turned back. “I am so sorry I ran away.”

Eve raised herself on her elbows. “Let’s agree to one thing, okay? Today we put the past behind us. That’s the last time you say you’re sorry. I’m sorry, too—and that’s the last time for me. It’s a new day. Our new day.”

Ani blew her a kiss. Besotted, Eve mused, and yeah, it was wonderful.

With the bright seven a.m. sunlight illuminating their digging site, there was clearly an object under the ice. They’d been close the night before.

A few picks with their axes, and Ani cracked the last sheet over a scientist’s kit. She knew it was Monica’s. There were also a few loose objects, one of which appeared to be Monica’s radio.

She paused a moment, remembering Kenbrink’s body, and the desolation she’d felt at the loss of his research, and thinking it had been her fault. She still had some responsibility—she’d thought it was the real notebook when she’d so foolishly tossed it out that window. That had been wrong, and she thought she’d paid the price for it. But she hoped the real notebook was inside the kit. It meant Monica was a liar, and had discarded Ani and Ani’s dreams for her own convenience. But it also meant the data was there to be mined, and maybe it would help someone.

“Ani,” Tan said. “Let me. Let me inventory what’s inside. Eve, take some pictures.”

“Oh, of course. Duh!” Eve moved in to snap the kit, still locked in the ice, then another of Tan freeing it. Her camera continued to click while Ani stood to one side, wanting to pull the kit out of the ice, but understanding that Tan was the only one of them with an official tie to GlacierPoint.

Tan opened the Velcro closure, then unrolled the waterproof seal to get to the zipper. Whatever was inside, Monica had taken no chances. The zipper finally parted, Tan opened it and sighed.

“Well, one very frozen energy bar, spare gloves and this.”

It had a bright blue cover, and Kenbrink was printed in block letters across the front. Ani let out the breath she’d been holding, maybe for as long as three years.