Northern Fascination

“Good. We don’t stand on ceremony here. There’s fresh coffee—” she indicated a small table set up as a beverage station “—help yourself. And don’t be shy with the oatmeal cookies, either. Juliette and I need to go over a few things so we can get her back in the air and then I’ll be right with you.”

“Sure. Take your time.”

While Juliette went over paperwork with the older woman, he poured a cup of coffee, snagged a cookie … and then another since he was starving, and studied the room.

Not that he hadn’t expected it but this was vastly different from the office space he worked in every day. Photographs covered one of the chinked-log walls. There was a love seat and two armchairs clustered around a television set in one corner. Flannel curtains hung at the windows and a braided rug covered a large expanse of the wood floor.

He blew on his drink and sipped. Strong and dark, it blazed a warm trail through him. And something smelled damn good.

He concurred with the recommendation put forth in the report. The airstrip and this building would be an asset as the mining operation was set up. It sat far enough on the perimeter to be functional, while the rest of the buildings would, in all probability, be bulldozed down. This, however, would make the perfect headquarters site, especially with the attached restaurant. They couldn’t have asked for anything better.

A pot-bellied stove sat to the right of the room. An old man with a long white beard sat in a rocking chair on one side of a chess set, muttering to himself. The rocker on the opposite side sat empty.

“Enjoy your stay,” Juliette said, sending a friendly smile his way as she headed back out the door.

“Will do. Thanks again.”

When the door closed behind the pilot, Merrilee looked toward the old man and shook her head, a gleam of sadness in her eyes. “That’s Dwight Simmons. He’s harmless, just a little lost. His chess partner Jeb Taylor passed away this summer. Dwight still hasn’t quite figured out what to do without Jeb. The two of them spent their days playing chess and arguing, but they were like family to one another.”

Logan nodded and murmured something noncommittal, unsure what to say in the face of the old man’s loss.

“Now let’s take care of you,” Merrilee said, patting him on the arm. Logan had steadfastly tried to push Jenna to the back of his mind but now he was within proverbial spitting distance of her and it took every ounce of willpower for him not to ask Ms. Swenson—make that Merrilee—where he could find Jenna. That would go a long way in taking care of one of his items on his to-do list. “I understand you’ve had a bit of a rough travel day,” Merrilee said.

She’d been notified of his flight delays so the last leg of his trip could be rescheduled.

Logan nodded. “It’s been a long day. A wreck shut down the expressway this morning. I could see the airport. I was half a mile from the exit, but I couldn’t get there, which meant I missed the direct flight.” As a result, he’d had to fly around his ass to get to Anchorage by way of New York, then Los Angeles, and finally on to Anchorage. Somewhere between Atlanta, New York, LA and Anchorage, his luggage had gone missing.

“Would you rather freshen up in your room first? I’ve left a few toiletries as I understand your luggage didn’t make it here with you. Or do you want to grab some grub next door first?”

Between the innumerable delays that had left him hurrying up and waiting, he hadn’t grabbed breakfast at the airport the way he’d intended to, nor had he had the opportunity to snag any food at Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson terminal. He’d had to sprint through the airport to make the flight, which had then spent an hour sitting out on the tarmac waiting for clearance before take off. He’d traveled often enough to know shit happened, but not usually this much shit all in one day.

“I need to wash up a bit, but then I’m ready to eat. Whatever it is smells great.” The scent alone had him salivating. The cookies had helped but he was still hungry. For good measure, his stomach growled in agreement.

“No worries,” Merrilee said with a bright smile. “I’ll show you to your room and then they’ll fix you right up next door.”

She headed toward a stairway on the other side of the office. Logan followed her up to the second floor.

“I understand one of my former schoolmates lives here. Jenna Rathburne,” Logan said as they climbed the stairs.

Merrilee stopped and turned to face him on the stairs, surprise on her face. “You know Jenna? She didn’t tell us you’d be coming.”

“I haven’t contacted her. I thought I’d look her up when I got here.”

“Oh! A surprise! I’m sure she’ll be tickled pink.”

Logan wasn’t so sure at all. In fact, he felt a fairly alien moment of uncertainty as to exactly how Jenna would respond when she saw him. “We went to the same high school.” He knew he sounded guarded.

“We all just love that girl to pieces. She’s one of those rare women who’s as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. She’s got a heart of gold.”

Logan was saved from responding, which was good because he didn’t know what to say anyway, when Merrilee opened a door at the top of stairs. “Here you are.” He stepped behind her into a room that was charming and inviting, but damn cold.

“We’re having a little problem with the heating upstairs,” Mrs. Swenson said.

“I’ll be fine.” As soon as his luggage containing his thermal underwear and thick socks arrived.

Aside from the cold, he immediately liked the room. As with the downstairs, it had log walls and lace-trimmed flannel curtains. An iron headboard and footboard were painted a light cream color. A homey quilt covered the mattress while a washstand, complete with antique pitcher and bowl, stood in one corner. A crocheted doily, much like those found in his grandmother’s house, topped the nightstand. Light from a bedside lamp pooled across a rag rug and the pegged wooden floor. The welcoming scent of cinnamon and apples hung faint in the room.

“The bathroom is down the hall at the other end of the landing. Just holler if you need anything.”

Food first and then directions to Jenna. See, he wasn’t desperate to see her at all. He’d eat first.

He was, after all, fully in control.

“HE’S CLEANING UP NOW AND then he’s heading over to Gus’s,” Merrilee said.

Jenna’s heart was racing in her chest. “Logan Jeffries?” Her voice came out all squeaky.

“Uh-huh,” Merrilee said. “How many Logan’s do you know from high school, sweetie?” Merrilee’s question held a teasing note.

“Only one.” And he was here. Logan Jeffries was right down the street, here in Good Riddance, Alaska. Dear God.

“What’s he doing here?”

“Well, I have no idea. The only thing he brought up was you.”

For one heart-stopping moment, a crazy thought passed through her mind…. No. Uh-uh. That was ridiculous. Over the top. Wildly romantic.

Jenna really didn’t know what Logan did for a living, so she had no clue what else could’ve brought him here. But it couldn’t be her … could it?

Merrilee continued. “He was going to surprise you. I hate to spoil that but I thought you might want a heads up. Most women do when a good-looking man is going to drop in on them.”

Surprised didn’t begin to describe it. Honestly, Jenna felt kind of weak at the knees. Then again, Logan had always affected her that way. “He still looks good?”

“Well, sugar, I have no idea what he looked like back in the day, but he looks mighty fine now. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair, pretty brown eyes and, never tell Bull I said it but, a mouth a woman could only think of as kissable. A little reserved and formal, but nice nonetheless.”

Butterflies seemed to take flight in Jenna’s stomach releasing a sweet heat she hadn’t felt in a long time. Logan had always had a great mouth. A sensual shiver ran through her. She’d fantasized numerous times about him and his sexy mouth—on her lips, her breasts, the inside of her wrist, the inside of her thighs. She’d imagined what it would feel like, how he would taste … and it had never gotten her anywhere but aroused and frustrated. She might be a virgin but she had all the working parts and certainly the desire.

“Oh, Lord.”

She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Merrilee chuckled on the other end of the line.

“Well, Ms. Jenna, is there something you’d like to tell me about Logan Jeffries? Because I’m thinking he’s not just another anybody from back home.”

Jenna glanced in the mirror. This sweater and blue jeans had been fine when she’d put it on this morning but not now, not if she was going to be seeing Logan for the first time in forever.

“Jenna?”

Jenna pulled her attention back to the conversation, away from her reflection in the mirror and the knot of anticipation and nervousness lodged in her mid-section.