“Yes, and you’re going with me.”
“I just told you—I’ve already taken off my makeup. I don’t want to be seen in town.”
“I like the way you look—and nobody else matters.”
Her jaw dropped, as if he’d surprised her with that statement. “Okay, but...where are we going?”
“To get a bite to eat, of course.”
“This late? There’s nothing open!”
“Shorty serves a limited menu. We’ll go to the back of The Moosehead, right by the kitchen, and his sister’ll grill us a burger.” He extended his hand.
She eyed it. “Amarok—”
“Take my hand, Evelyn.”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can.” He ran a finger lightly down her arm. “Going to get a burger with me is harmless.”
She looked slightly troubled as she stared up at him. “But what I feel when I look at you isn’t.”
Carefully, but very obviously, he weaved his fingers through hers. “See? This isn’t so bad, is it?” he murmured and felt a certain warmth when she let him lead her from the house.
***
Evelyn put her feet up on the dash of Amarok’s truck and stared at the stars beyond his windshield, which were so much more vivid in Alaska than anywhere else. She was fairly certain she’d never tasted anything as good as the bacon and cheddar quarter pounder he’d brought her from Shorty’s kitchen—or felt more secure or happy than kicking back with him in the parking lot of The Moosehead, where they could hear the music from inside drifting out onto the cool evening air.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said. Maybe Hilltop didn’t have a lot of other things to recommend it, but it certainly had stunning scenery.
“I like it,” he responded, following her gaze up into the sky.
“How long have you lived here?”
He was making quick work of his meal, much quicker work than she was. “All my life.”
She took another bite of her own burger. “What kind of a nickname is Amarok?”
“It’s Inuktitut.”
“The language of the Inuit people.” She’d read about some of the various Alaskan natives once she’d heard where Hanover House would be located.
“Yes.”
She selected one of the crisper French fries from the basket in the seat between them. “What does it mean?”
“Wolf.”
“Have you been called that all your life?”
He swallowed the bite he’d taken of his own burger. “For most of it. My friends gave me the nickname after some bully picked a fight with me in grade school.”
“You must’ve won that fight.”
“That kid never messed with me again,” he said with a cocky grin.
She stuffed another fry into her mouth. “So, let’s see...when that was happening to you, I was...what? In college?”
He slanted her a look that said he wasn’t happy with the topic of conversation. “We’re going there, are we?”
“Don’t you think we should?”
He scowled. “Definitely not.”
“Because?”
“What’s the point?” he said with a shrug. “As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter.”
She sat up. “Of course it matters. Relationships are hard enough when both people are at a similar stage of life. And that’s when you’re dealing with ‘normal’ people. We both know I’m not ‘normal.’”
“Everyone has their challenges.”
She laughed without mirth. “Not many people have my challenges. We have too much stacked against us, Amarok.” As far as she was concerned, whatever spark they felt they’d be wise to smother right away. It would be far easier to end things now, before either one of them could be hurt—before they could get carried away with hope only to be disappointed by the limitations imposed by her dysfunction.
“That’s it, then?” he said.
She was fairly certain he’d never had a woman tell him no, and she could understand why. “Maybe I haven’t been clear enough, but”—she lowered her voice even though there wasn’t anyone else around to overhear her—“I can’t have sex.” She figured she might as well be blunt, get it out there. “I’m guessing that’ll be important to you.”
He wiped his mouth. “Important but not everything.”
Her appetite suddenly gone, she put her burger on the wax paper it’d been wrapped in. “You’re serious.”
“Is that all you think I want?”
She drew a deep breath. “I’m not sure what you want, but I’m pretty sure I can’t give it to you, regardless.”
He caught her wrist before she could come up with a napkin to wipe the ketchup and grease off her right hand. “I don’t believe that,” he said and proceeded to lick her fingers clean.
Something deep in her belly reacted so strongly to the sensual nature of what he was doing that Evelyn gasped. It felt like she’d just come screaming over the first hill of a roller coaster.