Stars Over Alaska (Wild River #4) - Jennifer Snow Page 0,6

months before he’s convincing her to move back to Wild River with him.”

Chad glanced at Levi’s cell phone on the desk as it pinged with another Tinder match. “Look, just because you strike out with the ladies doesn’t mean we all do.”

Levi ignored the comment. He couldn’t argue with facts. He never claimed to be good at relationships. How could he be?

His parents had divorced when he was a kid. His mom readily let his father take over raising him and Levi hadn’t heard from her since. He’d moved from one military base to another, until his father decided he wasn’t the best option to raise him either and shipped him back to Wild River to live with his grandmother. She was in her sixties by then and she did her best, but she’d already raised her children and had little interest in or energy to do it again.

The only family he ever felt he had was in his two best friends, Dawson and Leslie, both of whom left him three years ago...in different ways.

His alarm sounded on his phone and he stood. “Shit, I gotta go.”

“Well, I know it’s not a hot date,” Chad said, rolling his eyes as Levi grabbed his jacket and keys and left the station.

Chad was wrong about one part of that sentence. Mrs. Powell was certainly coming in hot...or coming toward him hot. Did that phrase still work?

“Levi! So nice to see you,” she said as he entered the restaurant in downtown Fairbanks a half hour later. “Thank you for meeting me here.”

He accepted her hug and forced a smile when he pulled away. He wasn’t looking forward to that day’s meeting. But she’d left several voicemails for him in the last few weeks and he couldn’t avoid her forever.

Plans to start a Dawson Powell memorial foundation for supporting mental health had him experiencing every mixed emotion his body was capable of.

He thought it was very honorable of the Powell family to do this—set up a charity in their son’s name after he’d died in a high-speed chase with a man on a suicide mission. Showing forgiveness in the form of trying to help support programs that assisted in mental health was an amazingly charitable way to preserve Dawson’s memory and do something good in the process. Levi just wasn’t sure how he felt taking a leadership role in it.

He wanted to honor his friend’s memory, and the Powells had hardly given him much choice in being involved. They said he’d been Dawson’s best friend, so he was the natural choice to be the face of the foundation. He’d practically been raised by the family—they’d treated him like a son, having given him clothes, food, sporting equipment—the list went on. But more than that, they’d given him structure, discipline and advice.

He could hardly say no to this now.

It was just that he was more of a behind-the-scenes kinda guy. Unlike Dawson, he didn’t like the spotlight. He’d be happier doing the heavy lifting with fundraising campaigns and such, rather than being front and center.

But how did he communicate that without it coming out wrong?

“Levi, I’d like you to meet Angelica. She’s going to be helping us with the legal side of things—the paperwork and getting established as a charity, that kind of thing,” Mrs. Powell said, stepping back to reveal a pretty redheaded woman who definitely lived up to her name. Pale skin, emerald green eyes, dressed in a pale pink dress—she did look angelic.

Unfortunately, the look on Mrs. Powell’s face was rather devilish. She obviously had more than a working relationship in mind for the two of them. “Nice to meet you,” he mumbled.

“Likewise. Karlene speaks very highly of you. A smoke jumper—wow, that must be incredibly exciting,” Angelica said, eyeing him with open attraction.

Attracting a woman wasn’t the issue, it was lack of “game” that had him struggling with lasting relationships. “Yeah... I mean, no, it’s actually quite intense during the fire season and almost boring during the off-season. The gear is hot and uncomfortable and a bunch of smelly, dirty guys sleeping in tents at base camps isn’t exactly bachelor living...”

Angelica nodded politely as he rambled, but Mrs. Powell shot him a look that said “less is more,” so he zipped it.

“Let’s get started,” she said. “There’s so much to do before we can announce the first charity event later this spring.”

Wow, she was really moving full steam ahead on this. She’d first approached him with the idea only months after