“Don’t apologize. I’m sorry for my rants. I’m sure you’ve guessed by now they were about Travis.” She watched the swirling water.
“Please know I would never do something like that.”
“Like I said, I don’t know you well enough.”
“I can help you with that.” He scooted closer and cupped her cheek, gently turning her face toward his. He angled in, with his lips close to hers. “Can we start with this?”
She nodded and closed her eyes, remembering how his lips felt when he kissed her on the glacier. Her blood rushed to the surface, like the pull of a full moon on a high tide.
He kissed her gently at first, gradually easing his tongue to find hers. He slid his arm around her.
Everything faded as she lost herself in him, tasting merlot and garlic. Tingles shot through her like lightning bolts.
He deepened the kiss. A phone vibrated a notification.
She couldn’t get enough and pressed into him.
The phone insisted.
Still kissing her, he let go of her cheek and shoved a hand in his pocket to silence it.
Loud quacking erupted with ducks splashing, causing them to break their kiss. “Duck fight,” he spoke against her lips.
She fluttered her eyes open and laughed.
He pulled back to retrieve his phone. “It might be Zombie.” He held it up and checked it, then shoved the cell in his pocket. “Boone texted. Everyone’s at the Howling Dog. Ever been?”
“No.”
“Firefighter watering hole up at Fox. Want to go?” He kissed her again, tingling her neck down to the tips of her toes.
She drew back, smitten. “I’d rather stay and make out with you next to this beautiful river.”
“We won’t stay long. I want certain people to know we’re together now.”
“Would one certain person’s last name begin with an S?” kidded Tara, cocking a brow. She enjoyed Ryan’s desire to show the world they were now together.
He chuckled. “You’re a quick study, Waters. But first, I have to do something.” He rose from the bench.
She didn’t want to let go of him. “What?”
“I need a better angle.” Ryan grasped her hands and pulled her up and tight against him. Brushing her hair back with his palm, he kissed the side of her neck, his breath hot on her skin. She tilted her head back and he ran his fingers through her hair.
“O’Connor,” she gasped, her knees buckling. Now that ricocheted her girl parts. She wanted him. Now. Next to this river. If he said the word, she’d have her clothes off in a DC-10 minute.
Ryan disentangled his fingers from her hair, arranging it as if to cover his tracks of having been there. He stepped back, cerulean eyes fixed on hers. “I’ve been burning for you since the flight to Fairbanks. Like the Blue Oyster Cult song.”
“I love that song.” She looked at him a moment. “So, true confessions. When you fell asleep on my shoulder, I thought of hooking up with you in the airplane rest room.”
His face lit up and he laughed. “Really? Damn. Wished I’d known. Ever since you walked into my training class, I’ve wanted to kiss you. Didn’t think a room full of firefighters would have appreciated me laying one on you in class.”
He grinned and brushed a curl from her face.
Her breath hitched as he touched her. “They probably would have cheered us on, but we’d have been fired.”
“Ya think?” He up-talked, making her laugh.
“Angela had her eye on you at first, you know.”
“I knew who I wanted.” He cradled her face and kissed her. Moaning, he dropped his hands and backed up. “Waters, if we don’t go, I’ll do things I may be arrested for doing in public. Come on.” He brushed his sun-bleached hair back with both hands.
Ryan slipped his arm around her, and they strolled back to the car. He turned the ignition and leaned across the center console to kiss her, taking his time with it. Easing away, he puffed out air.
“Holy shit, Waters.” He shifted into gear and pulled out of the parking lot.
“Holy shit, O’Connor,” she breathed, head whirling. She pressed it against the head rest to control her want of him.
After a half hour drive on the Steese Highway to the tiny berg of Fox, Alaska, Ryan pulled into the Howling Dog parking lot and cut the engine.
She opened the car door, and the band’s pulsating beat quickened her pulse. This was their big reveal: The cat would be out of the bag and swinging from the rafters when she’d sashay in with Ryan O’Connor.
“Everyone will know you’re with me now. Are you okay with that?” Claiming her as his seemed important to him. He helped her from the car, then pressed her against it, giving her a slow, sumptuous kiss. Pine and soap filled her nostrils. Ending the kiss, he drew back, licking his lips as if enjoying a decadent dessert.
Thank goodness the car propped her up or she’d have puddled onto the asphalt. For a split-second she wanted back in the car to have more of him. “Yeah. I’m okay with that,” she squeaked out.
His eyes reflected the flickering neon light from the bar. Hypnotic and sexy. “Okay, let’s go in.” He offered his hand.
When she took it, he winked affirmation and she lifted his hand and squeezed it. As apprehensive as she had been about him, this felt right. Better than right. She was foolish for having doubted him.
Ryan led her to the door and swung it open. Once inside, he put his hand on the small of her back.
And she was more than okay with that.
Chapter 22
“The Pope and President Reagan stood on this red carpet on a platform when they visited Fairbanks back in the 1980s. Howling Dog installed it on their stage,” yelled Ryan, competing with vibrating subwoofers. He pointed to a sign on the wall next to the stage as the
