To Alaska, With Love: A Touch of Silk

She shrugged out of her ski jacket and stripped off her ski pants. He took the garments from her and hung them on a rack by the door. When she felt confident enough to glance his way again, she apprehended his gaze in a leisurely stroll down her body. He took in her red cashmere sweater, her form-fitting black pants, her fluffy white after-ski boots.

Despite the fact that she was bundled up to the teeth, thermal underwear on from neck to ankles, the way he looked at her made Kay feel like Lady Godiva prancing through the town square in the altogether.

“Nice place,” Kay said, trying her best to keep her tone upbeat and lighthearted, as if his perusal didn’t affect her one bit. But her breathless, whispery voice gave her away.

“Here,” he said eagerly, his voice no steadier than her own. “Stand by the fire, get warm. I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”

Hot chocolate? Had she stepped back in time to a simpler place, a simpler era? It was nice, very nice, but she felt out of place. A stranger in a strange land.

“That’d be great.”

Then an appalling thought occurred to her. Was she supposed to lodge here with him? Not that she didn’t want to stay with him. She just didn’t want it assumed.

“Quinn?” She watched him move around the kitchen, which was separated from the living area by a waist-high counter. She heard the oven door open, saw him bend over and remove a cookie sheet.

The smell of chocolate-chip cookies filled the air. Handsome and he could cook. A deadly combo.

“Uh-huh.” He deposited the cookie sheet on a cooling rack and glanced over at her. His hair had flopped boyishly over his forehead. For no good reason whatsoever her stomach did a backflip.

“Did you...am I...” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Where am I supposed to sleep?”

“At Jake’s B&B a quarter mile up the road in the center of town. Mack’s already hauling your luggage there.”

“Er...that’s good.”

“You didn’t think...I mean...did you want to stay here?” He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Oh, no. No. Of course not.” Kay groaned inwardly. This was going horribly. They were both so afraid of making a mistake, they were treading on eggshells.

He returned to the living area, balancing two mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies on a tray.

“I really am glad you changed your mind about coming to Alaska.” He handed her a mug.

She took a sip of hot chocolate and nibbled on a cookie. The room was silent except for logs crackling in the fireplace.

“Cookies are good,” she said as a way to fill the void.

“You can thank the Pillsbury Doughboy. All I did was slice and heat.”

“Still, you sliced them very evenly and heated them to the perfect degree of doneness.”

“Are you making fun of me?” His eyes teased.

Feeling suddenly shy, she glanced away. Oh, she was getting in way over her head here. Liking this guy too much, when they had no future together.

But she was in no position to ask for anything more from him than sex, nor did she want to. For one thing he was an Alaskan and she was a New Yorker. For another, she was on the rebound, still aching from Lloyd’s betrayal. She had a lot of things to sort out before she could ever entertain a relationship that extended beyond the physical. With anyone.

Maybe coming here hadn’t been such a great idea, after all.

Disconcerted, she moved away from Quinn and turned her attention to the photographs artfully arranged on the paneled wall on the opposite side of the room.

There was Quinn playing hockey. In another he was standing on the summit of Mount McKinley grinning like a happy kid. In a third he was kayaking. In a fourth he was guiding a group of tourists down white-water rapids in a rubber raft.

One picture caught her eye. It featured six muscular, bare-chested teenagers laughing and lobbing fistfuls of blueberries at each other. She recognized four of the boys from the magazine advertisement.

Quinn hadn’t changed much. His hair was darker, his shoulders broader, but he still possessed the same insouciant grin and macho stance.

“That was the summer we all worked in Juneau taking tourists down the Mendenthall.” He come up behind her and was standing so near she could almost feel his chin touching the top of her head. “We’d been picking blueberries and things got out of hand. My sister Meggie, the camera buff, sneaked up on us and snapped this photo.”

“Who’s that?” She pointed to a swarthy, dark-haired boy with straight white teeth.

“That’s Jesse, Meggie’s husband. They weren’t married then, of course. In fact, I believe that was the summer Jesse’s father married Caleb’s mother.”

“And this guy?” She pointed to a lanky, string-bean fellow whom Quinn had in a headlock while he smashed berries into his hair.

“That’s Kyle.”

“You two look like the best of friends.”

“We were.”

Something in his voice made Kay turn and look at him. “You’re not friends anymore?”

Quinn shrugged. “I don’t talk to him much. He met some girl who’d come to Alaska for the summer. Kyle fell head over heels. Moved to California for her. Haven’t seen him in twelve years.”

“You act like he betrayed you by falling in love.”

Quinn cracked an uneasy smile. “It wasn’t the falling-in-love part, it was the leaving Alaska. That woman put a ring in his nose, and he let her pull him around by it. Guess that’s why I’m so determined to find a wilderness wife.”

“Because you’re not willing to compromise?”

“Not when it comes to leaving Alaska.” He thrust his chest out as if he was proud of his stubbornness. “In fact, that’s what happened to my last relationship. I asked Heather to marry me, but she refused to move to Bear Creek. I wasn’t about to go to Cleveland where she lived. If a woman wants to love me, she’s got to love Alaska, too. It’s a package deal.” He took a sip of his hot chocolate, then said, “You can quote me in your article.”

Kay raised her eyebrows. With such an obstinate attitude the man might be hard-pressed to find his perfect mate. So why did she find his stubbornness attractive? Maybe it was the clear-cut, simple way he said what was on his mind and if people didn’t like it, well, too bad. “I’ll be sure to note that. Getting your story for the article is the reason I’m here.”

“The only reason?” His eyes sought hers.

“No. It’s not the only reason.”

“No?” He gave her a quirky smile, which struck her the wrong way. As if he was feeling pretty cocky about his ability to attract her all the way across the continent.

“I needed to get out of the city after breaking things off with Lloyd.”

“Ah.” He grinned all the wider. “So you’re no longer practically engaged.”

“No, I’m not.”

He smirked.