“So, it’s really dormant.”
“Yeah. No chance of activity,” he confirms, “although there’s a funny story about Edgecumbe.”
“Tell me.”
“Back in 1974, local fella by the name of Porky Bickar took seventy some-odd tires up there to the crater and lit them on fire. Matter of an hour, a huge, dark cloud of smoke rose up over the mountain and the folks in Sitka panicked that sleepy Edgecumbe was finally waking up.”
I laugh with glee. “You’re kidding!”
“Nope,” he says, chuckling along with me. “Coast Guard headed out there to assess the situation and that’s when they noticed the words “April Fools” in fifteen-foot-high, spray-painted letters.”
“Oh, my God!”
“Uh-huh. Turned out old Porky’d been planning the hoax for years, stockpiling the old tires under a tarp behind his garage.”
I stare out at the snow-capped crater, shaking my head at the ingenuity of Porky Bickar, and making a mental note to include the colorful tale somewhere in my story about the local bears.
“Think there are any bears out there?” I ask. “Climbing up Mt. Edgecumbe?”
I feel him nod behind me. “Lots. Bears are great swimmers. They can easily swim from island to island.”
“You know,” I say, “I think that’s the first time you’ve answered a bear question for me.”
His laugh is a low rumble against my skin and makes hidden parts of me clench and tremble. “I guess I’m starting to trust you.”
It’s a pretty great compliment when I consider how fast he clammed up last week when we first met. I take a deep breath and exhale. “I’m glad.”
His lips land softly on my neck and I lean my head to the side, giving him better access and closing my eyes as he caresses my throat with tender kisses.
“Hey…” he says, “How about a walk before dinner?”
My eyes pop open and I feel a whisper of disappointment that our first order of business isn’t to rip off each other’s clothes and christen the queen-sized bed behind us.
As though he can read my mind, Luke whispers low, “Baby, once I get you naked, I’m not leaving this room until sunrise.”
Baby.
Oh, my heart.
He’s never called me by a nickname before, but it sounds so very right, it makes my heart race in a way that almost worries me. I feel like I’m hanging onto the side of a very tall building, my fingers digging into the crumbling concrete as I desperately try to keep myself from falling.
Don’t get attached, I remind myself. This is only temporary. Guard your heart, idiot. It has no place here.
“When’s dinner?” I ask.
“They’re delivering it to the room at seven.”
I turn in his arms to look into his blue eyes, their clarity and color so vibrant, I can’t resist the urge to rise up on tiptoes and kiss him. I run my fingers up his chest to his neck to cup his strong jaw. As he tightens his arms around me, I sigh into his mouth, leaning into him as he holds me. His tongue slides against mine and I moan into his mouth, swallowing his answering groan.
I know we’ve only known each other for a handful of days, but fuck, I can’t help caring about
this man. I can’t help it. I know I wasn’t supposed to fall for him. I know I wasn’t supposed to have feelings for him. I know. God, I know! But I couldn’t help it. He’s too good, too kind, too good a father, too fine a brother, too perfect a man.
I kiss him like I would if he belonged to me and I belonged to him, and when he draws away, he looks into my eyes with such vulnerability, such naked sincerity, it almost makes me cry.
“H-How about that walk?” I somehow manage to ask. “Give me a second to freshen up?”
And then I flee the sweet, warm sanctuary of his arms and rush to the privacy of the bathroom, where I pledge to get my runaway emotions in control before I make a fool of myself with a man who’s been very clear about what he does—and doesn’t—want.