WILD MEN OF ALASKA

chapter THREE

She shouldn’t be here.

Eva traced the lines of filigree on her silverware. Why had she agreed to have dinner with Lynx? And here, where his family and friends could all keep tabs on their date? Pike, Lynx’s uncle, kept looking at her through the cutout behind the bar where the kitchen must be. He was another good looking man for his age. Tall, thick salt-and-peppered hair, with dark eyes that didn’t miss much. They sure did grow them big and muscled up here in the Arctic. Lynx would probably look a lot like his uncle when he got older.

Not something she needed to be thinking about. Davis was a handsome man, but more metro-sexual than mountain man. He’d dressed impeccably in suits and designer menswear, which should have given her a clue. He could color-coordinate better than any woman she knew.

She picked up her water glass and sipped. It was now half empty. She glanced at her watch again.

Lynx was late.

How long should she wait for him? Why was she even waiting for him? Because they’d shared spit, and she didn’t want to be one of those easy women. Meeting him tonight did not guarantee that they would be returning to his place or hers to have sex. No matter what last night’s impression had given him.

Tonight was about getting to know each other and then hopefully moving onto sex. Soon. She wanted him bad. Had thought of nothing else but being in those arms again and having him between her legs.

“Would you like to order an appetizer while you wait?” the young waitress asked.

Eva hadn’t caught her name. She looked for a tag, but there wasn’t one. She wore a simple white t-shirt and comfortable jeans, with a short apron tied around her waist.

She needed more liquid courage than food right now. “How about a drink. What can you suggest?”

The waitress cocked her head, pointed with her pencil to the empty seat next to Eva.” You waitin’ on Lynx?”

“Yes. How’d you know?”

“Word gets around.”

Had word spread about her legs clamped around Lynx too? She felt a blush start at the base of her neck. “Well, then, how about something with a kick?”

She tucked her pencil into her amber ponytail. “I got just the thing. Be right back.”

Eva watched her hips tick back and forth like the second hand of a clock. She took in the group of diners enjoying their evening meal. She’d purposely showed early and taken a seat in the back corner so that she could watch Lynx arrive. The big windows gave her a view of the parking lot. Now she felt trapped as all eyes routinely flicked her direction. Everyone in this damn village knew she was Lynx’s date.

Were they the Saturday night entertainment for the little town?

The waitress returned and set a drink in front of her. “We call it the Ugly Moose. Basically, it’s a bold and spicy Bloody Mary made Alaskan style. The celery stalks, bleu cheese stuffed olives, and slices of venison sausage are supposed to look like an ugly moose. It will also give you something to snack on until Lynx gets his butt here.”

Eva took a sip around the stalks of celery. “Wow, does that have a kick.” It tasted yummy too. She took another sip. “So what’s your name, and is Lynx often late to dates?” Now why did she go and ask that?

“Name’s, Bree. One thing you need to know about Lynx is that he’s easily distracted. Not that he has ADD or somethin’, well maybe just a touch.” Bree shrugged her shoulders. “He’ll have a good reason for being late, or at least an interesting one.” Bree smiled and patted Eva’s shoulder. “Let me know when you’re ready for somethin’ else.”

Eva fished out one of the olives that represented an eye of the Ugly Moose and ate it. Interesting name for a drink. She systemically ate all the pieces of the moose and then drained the glass. Yeah, she was a fan. She glanced at her watch again. Lynx was now forty-five minutes late. She’d never been stood-up before, but forty-five minutes had to be in the stood-up range.

To hell with Lynx. And sex.

She ordered another drink and then ordered dinner. She’d have Ugly Mooses—Meeses?—and good food. Both were great replacements for sex.

Sort of.

She ordered a triple berry pie for dessert.





Damn poachers.

Lynx had been called out on a report of poachers. He’d been after this bunch for a couple of weeks with no leads. A Dall sheep had been shot and its head taken, leaving the rest of the meat to waste. Burned him up something awful. He’d been able to snap some pictures of the crime right before a mama bear and her two cubs cornered him.

Now he was stuck up here on the bluff overlooking the scene, waiting out mama and her babies as they feasted on the meat. Well, mama bear feasted, while the rambunctious cubs had their fill and were now tearing apart his four-wheeler.

Not the tires.

Damn little heathens. They were cute as heck as they mauled his four-wheeler, shredding the leather seat, pulling and chewing on wires, and puncturing his tires with their wicked sharp claws and teeth. Lynx snapped some pictures of the destructive tykes for his insurance company.

Well, he wasn’t getting back to town with that thing, and he wasn’t about to take on the hungry mother. Some things weren’t worth fighting nature for.

Hiking out looked like his only option. He checked his GPS. Roughly eleven miles. Great. His cell phone was no use. He had only his GPS spot locater to push that he was OK or not. If he indicated he wasn’t OK, the troopers in Fairbanks would be notified. He’d have Search and Rescue out looking for his sorry ass. As a law enforcement officer for the Yukon Flats National Wildlife Refuge he’d never live it down that bear cubs got the best of him. It was his own fault, his mind occupied with thoughts of Eva and what tonight might bring, rather than his surroundings. He knew better.

Now he’d be late for their dinner date. He looked at the time again. Hell, he’d be more than late. He’d be a no-show.

He wondered how understanding Eva Stuart was.