WILD MEN OF ALASKA

chapter SIX

Gemma strapped her kayak onto the roof of her car and drove to meet Cub.

It was technically still winter, even though the calendar said spring was around the corner. But the rivers and lakes were frozen and there was enough snow on the ground to call a snow day in most cities of the lower forty-eight. To keep in kayaking form, and be ready once the ice broke up, Gemma had joined a group of diehards who met one night a week at the Hamme Pool. They paddled and practiced rolls, exercising muscles that wouldn’t get that kind of a workout in a gym.

It was also where she’d first met Cub.

He was an avid river kayaker, famous in these parts. He could probably compete on a world stage if he felt so inclined. But as far as she could tell, his biggest competition was himself.

“Hey, Gemma,” Cub greeted as she climbed out of her Outback Subaru and began unstrapping her neon green river kayak. He made quick work of getting the kayak off the roof of her car. She wasn’t short, more average than tall, but Cub shouted his Viking heritage with Norse god good looks to his big feet and towering six-four foot frame. She’d never believe the man could fit into a whitewater kayak if she hadn’t seen it so herself. And while she plunked, more than slid into her kayak seat, Cub melted into his like butter on toast. There was something admirable about a man who was so comfortable in skin.

“Thanks, Cub.”

He handed her the boat one-handed and picked up his own that he’d set on the ice-packed blacktop in order to give her a hand.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking of that kiss we shared the other day.”

She flicked a look at him from under her lashes, wondering where he was going with this subject. So out of the blue too. They usually discussed technique, certain rivers they wanted to traverse, or the weather, while walking in to the pool to meet the five to seven other people who took advantage of the “evening kayaking.”

“Okay, what about the kiss?”

“I think we should try it again.” Cub stopped, and while he couldn’t really face her with each of them holding a kayak, he did pretty good job of nailing her with a look that had her swallowing a sudden—surprising—kick of curiosity. “I wasn’t really on my game the other night, and I think we should give it another go.”

She hadn’t thought there was anything between them besides common interests and friendship. But, hey, why not. Cub made a lot more sense than her Dreamweaver.

“I’d like that.” She shared a smile with him, and they continued into the building, Cub holding the door open for her.

He was sweet and thoughtful and had a corporeal body. And he wasn’t hard to look at either.

Suddenly she was glad that she hadn’t pushed off tonight since she was so tired. She was also glad she’d downed that Rock Star.

Lucky didn’t feel lucky at all. He’d been talking all damn day, but Gemma, by all accounts, hadn’t heard a peep from him. Similar to the day before, he’d been able to follow her around feeling like an attention-starved puppy, his heart weeping at seeing Tern. Hell, how he’d missed her too.

He missed everything.

He’d mentally salivated watching Gemma partake of each bite of cinnamon roll from the Bun on the Run. He wished there was some way he could experience what she smelled, tasted, felt. Definitely what she felt. How she felt.

Touching her while she dreamt was thrilling, amazing. Sensual on a level that he hadn’t been with a woman before—no shit—but he still missed that human contact. The pressing together of warm flesh, the thrusting of groins, entering the heat of a woman. Entering Gemma.

Holy hell, did he want to enter Gemma.

Should he be saying holy hell? All right, holy heaven. There, that felt somewhat better. Or more appropriate. Listening to Tern and Gemma discussing all the implications of him visiting from another plane, kind of freaked him out too. They didn’t understand that he wasn’t out to harm Gemma. He wanted to give her pleasure. But that wasn’t his only motivation. If one thing death had taught him, it didn’t do any good to lie to one’s self.

Was this a particular hell he’d been sent to because of the free-living lifestyle he’d engaged in while alive?

Too may questions.

For now, he’d learn more about Gemma. Knowledge was power. He was beginning to realize she was his soul mate. She was beautiful, smart, adventurous, and fit. So physically fit.

But who the hell was this guy she was with?

Lucky didn’t like the way she looked at him, staring too long when he tore off his shirt and revealed muscles that even made his mouth drop open.

Gemma stripped down to her sunset-orange bikini. Where the hell was her life jacket? Those perfect breasts, which had left Cub speechless, too, needed to be covered up and buckled down.

Cub sidled up to Gemma, and on instinct, Lucky tried to push him aside. He went flying through the man, didn’t even cause the guy’s perfect hair to stir.

This was no good. He was losing steps that he’d gained. “Here, let me help you,” Cub said, wrapping his hand around Gemma’s upper arm, his fingers way too close to the sides of her breast that the tiny scraps of material barely covered. Damn the man, he brushed the exposed globe of goodness with a slight caress of his index finger. Lucky couldn’t really fault him, but how he wanted to gut him on the tiled surface of the pool for touching his woman.

Yeah, this was hell.

He didn’t like seeing another man’s hand on his Gemma. He’d never been the jealous sort. Back to that free-living lifestyle. And he didn’t like feeling this way at all.

It was cruel. Torture. He wanted to return to his spirit prison. That would be better than watching Gemma enjoy another man’s touch. He didn’t miss the goose bumps or the becoming blush of her skin at Cub’s smooth maneuver.

Gemma climbed into the kayak, and with a push from Cub, slid into the water of the pool. Lucky watched with awe at her form as she paddled across the water, getting to the deep end and rolling the kayak. Wow, the woman was skillful. What else did she like to do? So far, he’d mainly been concerned with how she liked to be touched. Did that make him some sort of ass? Or pervert?

Of course it did.

Cub slid his kayak into the water and quickly caught up to Gemma with a few powerful strokes. Now Lucky was in awe of the power the man possessed just in his shoulders. He missed pitting himself against what nature had to offer. Granted there wasn’t a lot of nature here in the Hamme Pool, but it wasn’t a stretch to see how both Gemma and Cub would perform in the outdoors paddling down the world class rapids of the Nenana River.

A lump formed in his chest and spread throughout his soul. This wasn’t fair. If you were dead you shouldn’t be able to hurt like this.

“What would you like to drink?” Gemma asked, as she let herself into her house. Cub had followed her home after two hours of cavorting about in the pool. “I don’t have much more than cooking wine for spirits as I don’t drink much. But I can make you some tea, hot chocolate or coffee.”

“I don’t think you need any more stimulants.” Cub blushed, making him appear boyishly adorable. “I mean, no more caffeine. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look dead on your feet. Maybe I should leave and let you get some sleep.”

She was dead on her feet, but not willing to fall asleep. Not with what had happened yesterday. “How about some hot chocolate? I always get cold going from the heated pool to twenty below.” At least it had warmed up, gave her a little faith that spring was indeed around the corner. To be honest, she was more chilled at the stunning display of Northern Lights gyrating across the sky than leaving a heated pool. They were so luminous and alive, trekking from greens, to purples, to reds and crackling with energy. After what Tern had shared with her, she hadn’t been surprised to find her radio full of static on the way home, though a tad concerned.

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Gemma confessed. Afraid she would crash as soon as she got home had been one of the reasons she’d decided to ask Cub over for a drink. With the Northern Lights lit up the way they were she was apprehensive about being alone, fearing she wouldn’t be alone for long.

A brush, like a hot breath, swept over the back of her neck.

She’d stacked her wet hair on her head after showering at the pool. A shiver that was anything but chilling, fluttered through her body. She glanced behind her and found no one. Cub had pulled out a chair and sat at the table a good ten feet away. She swallowed hard, and added a heaping tablespoon of instant coffee to her hot chocolate.

“You okay?” Cub asked. “You seem a little on edge. I’m not going to jump your bones.”

He might not, but she had the feeling there was more than the two of them currently in her kitchen.

“Just a little spooked, I guess.” She handed him a mug of hot chocolate and took a seat across from him, taking a sip from hers. “I’ve never seen the Northern Lights this vibrant.”

“You know the Native Alaskans used to fear that the stream of lights were their ancestors coming back to earth to snatch their souls.”

Great.

“The Scandinavians believed that when red appeared it was a sign of war,” he continued. “Even the Native Americans thought they were a conduit between worlds. Some still think that’s true. It wasn’t until the nineteenth century that we learned they were solar activity. Makes you wonder who is really right? Scientists whose theories are less than two hundred years old, or our ancestors.”

“What do you believe, Cub?”

“I like thinking there is a connection between our world and the Heavens. To think that we are totally cut off, or that our loved ones who have passed before us are completely out of reach, is sad.”

Grief flickered across his expression, and she wondered who he had lost. His grief seemed fresh as though the claws hadn’t quite let go. Cub gave the mystical display out her window another look and then settled his starry-blue eyes on her. “Enough of that. How’s the bookstore?”

She snorted a laugh. Cub had a way of jumping subjects that she appreciated. “Lots of reading and recommending. With all the changes in the way people like their reading material, we seem to be holding our own. But that might have a lot to do with Siri’s faithful followers. How are things at Search and Rescue?”

“Challenging.”

There was a long silence while Cub’s blue eyes studied her. The air seemed to thicken as he set his hot chocolate down. Gemma suddenly found it hard to swallow.

Cub stood, taking her hand, and helped her to her feet. “Now, about that kiss.”