23
The wind gusted hard against the side of the tent, popping loud in Julie’s ears. She cringed and rubbed the pain the noise caused away. The last three days, the wind had mostly kept a constant stream, causing a thwacking sound as the tent flexed on its supports. Just enough wind to blow the snow around and make it impossible to see, but not enough to cause any real problems.
Annoying?
Yes.
Disheartening?
A little.
Being stuck in the tent, not able to make any leeway to the Pole, pinched. Yet, they all knew the weather could make or break the expedition. She just wished they had stayed at the checkpoint like Clark had argued for, instead of leaving when they knew a storm front was headed their way. They hadn’t made it a full day’s mush away before the swirling snow had forced them to stop.
Another good gust punched the tent. Julie flinched, then jumped when the zipper opened. A flurry of snow whipped into the tent, slicing through her wool sweater. The propane stove flickered, threatening to extinguish. She blocked the wind the best she could to keep it from going out as the Rebels climbed in.
“How are the dogs?” she asked Gunnar as soon as he had the door zipped tight.
“Great. Curled up, sleeping.” He shrugged out of his parka, and Julie had to pull her eyes away from the stretch of his broad shoulders against the fabric of his shirt.
The worst part about being stuck in a whiteout in a tiny tent was not being able to get Gunnar alone. If they’d stayed at the checkpoint, not only could they move around, but she could’ve found somewhere to drag the tempting wall of muscle to and see if his kisses still turned her knees to liquid goo.
Since they had to stop for the weather, the only time she could have him to herself was when they’d go to check on the dogs. Call her crazy but taking the time to kiss when the snow whipped against her face like little shards of glass wasn’t her idea of romantic. The closest she got to any sign of intimacy was when it was her turn to sleep in the middle, and Gunnar would lie close and rest his hand on her hip.
Even through the layers of clothing and sleeping bags, the weight of his palm would burn her side, long into the next day. She wished he’d just pull her close and wrap his arms around her fully. With Sunny in the tent, Julie understood why he didn’t. Still, she yearned to snuggle into his embrace.
“How are the boys?” She scooted away from the stove so Sunny could have the heat to warm up.
“Better.” Sunny chuckled. “Clark’s finally forgiven Mason for not listening to him.”
Julie smirked and shook her head. In the four months she’d trained with them, she’d never seen them argue. Good thing they weren’t fighting anymore. Being stuck in a tent and not getting along would be torture.
“Mason talked to Saylor.” Gunnar plopped down close to Julie, rubbing his hand across her shoulders. “Pax is doing good. He’s been moving his leg more, so the vet’s hopeful there isn’t anything broken.”
Julie leaned her head against Gunnar’s shoulder with a sigh. She’d worried about her dog almost constantly. The weather had made it impossible for the vet to fly out with Pax. Hearing that his leg had improved coursed relief through her. There still was a chance he could lose the leg, or worse, but she’d take any good news she could get.
“It also looks like the storm should blow through tomorrow afternoon at the latest.” Sunny pulled a book out of her pack as she settled in.
“That’s a new one.” Julie motioned to the book.
Sunny had brought a couple with her, swapping out for new ones at the checkpoints. All of them had been romance. Julie never read that genre. Frankly, after Gunnar had left, reading about characters’ happily-ever-afters depressed her.
When she did read, she stuck to epic fantasy. She loved the sweeping worlds and journeys to fight against evil and triumph. Plus, anything with a dragon got her excited.
“Bristol North is one of my favorite authors.” Sunny stretched the book to Julie. “She writes these funny romantic suspenses set in Alaska. You’d love them.”
Julie turned the book over in her hand and skimmed the back cover. Maybe now that Gunnar was back in her life, adding a romance into her to-be-read list every now and then wouldn’t wrench at her heart. There were even a ton of fantasy romances she could dive into that she’d avoided like the plague.
“Bristol is from Alaska, but I haven’t been able to figure out where. I’m thinking she’s writing under a pen name.” Sunny wrapped her hair into a messy bun and took the book back.
Gunnar’s low chuckle settled warmth in Julie’s gut like she’d just taken a shot of seal oil. How could the rumbling sound affect her like that? Maybe because he’d been doing it more and more the farther north they went.
Sunny’s gaze zeroed in on Gunnar. “You know something. I can tell.”
“I know where she lives.” Gunnar pulled his deck of cards out and tapped the box against his hand.
“Really?” Sunny lit up like a kid at Christmas.
Man, she must really like this author.