Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
I allow myself a breath of relief as Tyler guides me away. Only where my stomach was coiling with discomfort before, now it’s full of nervous flutters, the faint scent of cologne with notes of cedar and citrus peel drawing me in closer. “Thank you.”
But Tyler doesn’t answer, his gaze hanging off Jonathan and his crying son.
On his son.
My heart pangs for this man as I see the pain in his stony expression as clearly as if it were written on a page. How often does Tyler see his unborn child in the faces of these living ones? How often does he wonder how different his life would have been, had they survived?
“Tyler?” I call out softly. His hand is still curled around my waist.
He snaps out of whatever trance he was in with a sharp inhale. “Yeah?”
“Thank you,” I repeat.
He slides his arm away from me. “What are friends for?” He mock frowns. “Oh, wait …”
He’s back to his casual charming self, but I just caught a hint of what’s hidden beneath the facade. “Were you actually looking for me? Is there something wrong with the dogs?” It’s been two weeks since I visited his kennel.
“Nah. Dogs are all good. I saw you there and you seemed anxious.” His eyes drift over my frame. “Your body language was off.”
“You’re an expert with body language?”
“With some things.” He hides a smile behind a sip of his coffee.
We’re heading back down this dangerous path again—where Tyler flirts shamelessly and I read too much into it, where I let false hope trick me into believing something that isn’t true.
“Who’s that guy?” he asks, nodding toward Jonathan.
“My ex.”
“Serious?”
“Five years.” I hesitate. “We were engaged.”
He shifts his focus from Jonathan to Carrie to Clancy, as if itemizing possibilities. “What happened?”
“It wasn’t meant to be. Long story.” I check Jonah. He’s still gabbing. “You’re a bit out of the way for Hatcher Pass, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been working at Nancy Lake this week.”
“Anything exciting?” I find myself desperate to change topics, to keep this casual conversation going. It feels good to be with Tyler. When I’m with him, I’m not thinking about anything else.
“Besides the family of tourists who thought bear repellent worked the same as mosquito repellent and sprayed it all over themselves?”
An unexpected burst of laughter escapes.
“You like that one, huh?” Tyler grins. “It’s not as good as the naked couple I found hiding in the trees yesterday.”
My jaw drops. “You’re lying!”
“Swear to God.” He presses his free hand over his vest where his heart resides, under a thick pad of muscle. “They were camping and decided to go skinny-dipping in one of the lakes in the afternoon. When they got out of the water, their clothes were gone. Went back to their campground and everything there was gone too. They were trying to get to their car when I came across them.”
“Naked and afraid.”
He chuckles. “She had a few well-positioned tree branches but kept dropping them to swat at the mosquitoes. Man, that was a long, uncomfortable walk back to my truck for everyone.”
If I had a free hand, it would be covering my hanging jaw. I’m not sure which would be worse—darting through the mosquito-infested forest bare-assed or being found that way by this man. My cheeks flush with the thought. “Did you figure out who stole their things?”
“The woman seemed convinced his girlfriend had something to do with it.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. If it was, I say good for her.” He takes a long sip of his coffee.
I’m momentarily caught on his mouth and his jaw, and the way his Adam’s apple bobs with his swallow. But mostly, I’m caught on how much I like being near Tyler.
He flashes another smile, this one showing off deep dimples, and a look that says he can somehow read my thoughts.
“Sorry ’bout that. Once you get Sam talkin’ about his fire boss planes, there’s no stopping him.”
I jump at the sound of Jonah’s deep voice behind me. “Yeah. No worries.”
“Aw, man. You did not.” He grimaces when he takes in the paper tray of biscuits and gravy. “How do you eat that stuff? It looks like cat vomit.”
Exactly the reaction I knew I’d get from Jonah. “Cold cat vomit now, thanks to you.”
He shakes his head with disgust, then points at the tray of drinks in my hand. “That’s dairy-free, right? ’Cause Calla will murder me in my sleep if it’s not.”
I’m about to say yes when Tyler cuts in. “Hey, you were flying dogs out of White Mountain back in March, weren’t you?”
“Dogs, straw, HEET, kibble, pork belly, you name it. She roped me in.” He jerks his chin toward me.
“This is Tyler Brady,” I introduce.
Jonah frowns as recognition slips in. “You won this year, didn’t you?” He sticks his hand out. “Congratulations. Good to see you, man.”