Stars Over Alaska (Wild River #4) - Jennifer Snow Page 0,122
his voice.
“I’m not,” she said. “’Night, Mike.”
CHAPTER FIVE
MADDIE YAWNED AND stretched before her eyes opened the next morning and she quickly scanned her surroundings before remembering where she was. She hadn’t expected to sleep so well in an unfamiliar bed, but the silence out on the lake had been like nothing else, and once she’d finally dozed off, she’d been out cold.
She glanced toward Mike’s cot but it was already made and he wasn’t in the hut.
Maddie got up quickly and peered outside. Two couples sat on the logs, drinking from thermoses. Smoke spiraled into the air from the outside grill and the smell of breakfast cooking made her stomach growl. She dressed quickly and was about to reach for her coat when the hut door opened.
Mike entered carrying her thermos and balancing two plates of food. “Hey, morning,” he said, seeing her up. “I thought you might sleep past breakfast, so...”
He was bringing it to her.
It was probably a sad reflection on her past dating life, but this was the nicest, most thoughtful thing any guy had done for her. Twenty-four hours ago she’d have thought it out of character for Mike, but she was realizing there were far more layers to the guy than her sister had bothered to peel back.
She accepted the food and coffee from him with a smile. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” He set his own plate down and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Once I finally fell asleep, yeah.” She picked up a piece of toast and took a bite, savoring the buttered homemade bread. “This is so good. What is it about eating food outside that makes it taste better?”
He stared at her.
“What?” she said.
He shook his head and looked away. “Nothing. I was just saying the same thing... Should I get the fishing holes ready?”
She nodded, taking another bite of the toast. “Absolutely. I’m not leaving here without catching something.”
Other than feelings for her sister’s ex.
* * *
HOT COFFEE IN HAND, line cast through the hole in the floor, Mike settled into his chair next to Maddie. He hadn’t slept so great on the tiny cot, but he wasn’t tired. He hadn’t needed his cell phone alarm to wake him.
Something about the outdoors invigorated him. Waking up to silence, stillness, the smell of food grilling and fresh coffee brewing in the chilled air was the closest to heaven he’d ever get.
And being there with a woman who enjoyed all those things as much as he did made it even better. He’d dated a lot of women and no one seemed as compatible for him as Maddie. He’d always thought compatible would mean settling on chemistry or physical attraction.
You got one or the other, right? Relationships were either comfortable or passionate.
It didn’t feel that way now.
He was both comfortable with Maddie and insanely tempted to grab her and kiss her. He took a gulp of coffee and cleared his throat. “So, it’s just you and Jade? In your family, I mean.”
Maddie nodded. “Yeah, our dad died of cancer a few years ago and our mom had an aneurysm...”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. One tragedy was hard enough, two in the matter of several years had to be really difficult.
“That’s why Jade and I are so close. It’s just us now,” she said quietly.
He nodded. He understood. He could also clearly hear the note in her voice that said she’d never do anything to hurt Jade or jeopardize that strong sisterly bond. Mike didn’t want to come between sisters, but damned if he could deny that he wanted to see where things could lead with Maddie.
She was everything he’d look for in an ideal partner, and those green eyes were dark emerald pools that just sucked him in.
“This fishing pole was my dad’s,” she said. “He’d wanted it for years but refused to splurge on it. Jade and I saved up and bought it for him for Father’s Day the year before he died. He only had a chance to use it a few times, but he loved it.”
“I’m sure it meant a lot to him that it came from you both,” Mike said. He didn’t have many memories of his mother—she’d left him and his brothers with their dad after the divorce—but he had a picture of her in his wallet that had been there as long as he could remember. Everyone had a different way of holding on to the past.