Wild Men of Alaska Collection - By Helmer, Tiffinie Page 0,17
her other senses picked up on the whistle and moan of the wind, the heavy splattering of the snow in its attempt to bury the plane from sight. Skip’s long even breaths, and her choppy ones. How could he be so relaxed?
“We can’t go to bed mad at each other,” Skip said.
“We’re not married.” She wanted to retract the words as soon as she said them.
“And whose fault is that?”
“You arrested me.”
“Get over it.” He turned toward her and lifted up on his elbow. “You left me with no choice.”
“I was entitled.”
“Entitled didn’t make it right.”
“You knew what he’d done.”
“I still couldn’t let you take the law into your own hands.”
“Nobody was punishing my dad, and he killed my mother.”
“Wren—”
“No, you know it, and I know it. The whole village knew why she did what she did.” Wren still saw her mom’s lifeless body, having been the one to find her beaten and bruised and dead. “She took all those sleeping pills because she couldn’t escape him any other way.”
“It was still her choice. Your dad didn’t feed them to her.”
“He might as well have.”
“It wasn’t your call to make, Wren.”
She knew he was right. He’d been right at the time to take the shovel away from her before she bashed in her father’s head. As it was, he’d let her wail on her father’s prized truck longer than he’d needed to, before restraining her. She’d been over all this in therapy.
So much therapy.
“Wren, I’m on your side here. If I could have arrested your father and thrown his ass in jail, I would have gladly done so. But you were the one who broke the law.”
Yeah, and her old man had pressed charges, more concerned over his precious truck and who was going to pay for the damages than the suicide of his wife and meltdown of his daughter.
He was free of both of them now.
“So...what is he up to now?”
Skip didn’t pretend to know what she was asking. “Same. Drinking, fishing, drinking more. At least, the women of the village steer clear of him. He’s alone. Fitting punishment if you ask me. Life without you a part of it is hell.”
Her heart thumped. Did he mean his life was hell because she wasn’t in it?
“Yes, Wren, that’s exactly what I mean.”
Again. What was with her? It was like she didn’t have control of herself. Speaking her mind like this without being aware of it was disconcerting to say the least.
Silence lengthened between them again. She understood it was up to her to make the next move.
Skip wasn’t going to.
If she wanted to be with him, it was up to her to let him know. But did she want that? Who was she kidding? That’s all she’d ever wanted. She’d always been too scared to reach for happiness. When she was a kid, anything she took a fancy to her father destroyed. Skip was the only person he hadn’t driven off. Skip wasn’t afraid.
She needed to stop being afraid.
“How’s the arm?” she softly asked.
“Bearable.”
“Bearable enough?”
He groaned. “Wren, don’t tease me.”
“You used to like it when I teased you.”
He dragged in a heavy breath. “Don’t toy with me.” There was a pleading quality to his voice that had the knotted strings around her heart unraveling.
She turned on her side to see him better. “What do you want from me?”
His eyes glowed with intent in the snow-lit evening. “Everything.”
She didn’t want to hurt him. She’d already hurt him more than she expected forgiveness for. “Skip,” she whispered.
That’s all it took. He reached for her, cradling her head in his palm as his mouth captured hers. He groaned as she curled into him, fully aligning their bodies. They’d always fit together so well. Her breath caught, and she became dizzy from the intense rush of feeling and emotions unleashed.
“Wren, baby, why oh why did you put on so many layers?”
A giggle escaped her, and suddenly everything felt right. For the first time in years, things felt right. His hand snaked under her three shirts and found her skin. “You’re so hot.”
“Hot as is ‘hot’ or hot as in heat?”
“Hot. You’ve always been too hot to handle.” His fingers flicked open her bra. “You had to sleep with this on too.”
“I needed everything I could think of.”
He pulled back. “Are you sure about this?”
She met his eyes, his searching. “Yes, Skip.” To prove it to him, she sat up and lifted off the sweatshirt, followed by the long-sleeved t-shirt, and finally the undershirt.