Love at Last (Last Frontier Lodge #2) (11 page)

He listened to Becca’s words and leaned his head against the back of the couch. “Maybe you were right.”

“I didn’t say it because I wanted to be right. It’s because I know you. I can’t see you doing what I do because that’s too gritty for you, but maybe you should branch out, take some non-profit cases, do some pro bono work, and see how that feels.”

Simply considering something other than facing off in court when the point of his argument was merely to win felt good. He took a breath. “What would you say if I told you I’m thinking about staying up here for a bit?”

“I’d say a change of pace might be the best thing that’s happened to you in years.”

Becca could be blunt to the point of harsh, but she was also one of the kindest people Garrett knew. While she would be the first to share her opinion about his career choices, she wouldn’t bother to gloat when he changed gears.

“Well, I’ll keep you posted. No final decisions right now, but I’m not confirming a timetable when I’ll return to work. Tell me what’s up with you?”

Their conversation moved on with Becca filling him in on her latest dating fiasco. He hung up the phone several minutes later and stared out at the gathering darkness.

Delia was working tonight. He’d texted her earlier asking if she minded if he stopped by her office after the restaurant closed down. She’d replied with a smiley face, which he took to mean yes. He was starting to get used to it, but it still startled him that all he had to do was think of Delia and his body tightened with anticipation. Joining the almost constant state of arousal she evoked was the disconcerting depth of feeling that came along with it—an unfamiliar ache in his heart, a wash of protectiveness, and a sense of uncertainty. An uncertainty born from the hopes she kindled in his heart, hopes he hadn’t even known he could have.

Chapter 10

Delia re-read the text message from Garrett earlier and wondered when he’d be coming by her office. The last of the kitchen staff had left a few minutes ago. She’d told her father she would be working late for pastry prep. She sensed that he suspected something else might be up, but he didn’t push. She was restless. After another few moments, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She’d checked the computer room assignments and knew which suite Garrett was occupying. Moving quietly through the halls, she made her way upstairs and knocked quietly on his door.

She heard muffled footsteps on the carpet before the door swung open. Garrett stood before her in nothing but a towel, his skin still damp from what must have been a shower only moments ago. The shadowed light emphasized his muscled chest and arms. She itched to touch him, to feel the strength of him under her hands. Heat suffused her. His eyes widened before he stepped back and gestured for her to come in.

“I was about to head downstairs,” he said, his voice gruff.

She nodded and walked over to the windows. She needed to get a hold of herself. She’d never felt such an intense draw before. What she felt was more than physical with Garrett, but her body was so unaccustomed to the depth of need she experienced with him that it overtook her. She glanced around the small suite. She’d seen these rooms many times. The main room contained a king-size bed with a small couch and chairs beyond the foot of the bed. The kitchen efficiency was to the other side with a small round table for dining. Windows ran the length of the room. She peered outside at the velvety night sky. Stars were scattered across the sky like diamonds, sharp in the clear winter air.

She felt Garrett come up behind her and rest his hands on her shoulders. His hands slid down her arms, the heat of his touch sifting through her thin cotton blouse. Her pulse quickened as his lips landed on her neck, his kisses lighting small fires under the surface of her skin. Her arms fell loose as she arched into him. One hand threaded into her hair, gently tugging her head back, exposing her neck. He blazed a sizzling trail along her neck. His other hand slid around her waist, caressing the curve of her belly and rising up. Filaments of heat seared through her everywhere he touched. He began to unbutton her blouse, slowly, one button at a time, his fingers stroking each inch of skin revealed. He flicked the clasp of her bra undone on his way down. Her nipples tightened unbearably. By the time her blouse fell open and he slipped the straps of her bra off her shoulders, her breath came in pants.

Her sex clenched, drenched with desire. Garrett’s hands cupped her breasts, his light touch notching her need higher and higher. She was hot and achy, her skin feverish and damp. She arched her hips into his arousal, savoring the groan that fell from his lips. His cock was hard and hot. She turned swiftly and yanked at his towel. It fell easily.

“Delia…not now…”

“Oh no. Now.”

She might be years out of practice, but she’d already picked up that Garrett liked to direct the action. For the most part, that was perfectly fine with her, and oh was he ever the master at directing as he’d left her boneless and sated after every encounter. But for now, she wanted a taste of him and to bring him pleasure, so she intended to take charge.

She knelt in front of him and stroked a finger up from the base of his cock to the tip, her tongue following suit, before closing her mouth around him and drawing him inside. His body was taut as his hips arched into her. She set to exploring every inch of him with her mouth, licking, sucking and stroking. She curled her fist around him, stroking his shaft in her wet grip. His breathing became more ragged and broken moans fell from his throat. He tried to tug her up, but she ignored him, drawing him deeply into her mouth one last time until she felt his cock throb and pulse. She pulled back to watch him, stroking him in her palm. He jerked, cum spilling onto her breasts. A wave of satisfaction rolled through her to see him so. His eyes opened, his gaze heavy and dark.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen so fast,” he said, frustration marking his features.

Delia stood slowly. “Yes, it was,” she said, feeling saucy. She didn’t recognize this side of herself because she’d never experienced it. She thrilled to the feeling and arched a brow.

Garrett shook his head and moved swiftly. In seconds, he’d torn off her jeans, thrown them to the floor, and lifted her in his arms. He strode into the bathroom, nudging the light with his shoulder. After reaching into the shower to turn it on, he carried her in with him. The shower in this suite had been updated and had a rainfall showerhead in the center of the ceiling and blue glass tiling. He adjusted her weight, and she shifted in response, curling her legs around his hips.

Time blurred as he backed her up against the wall and slowly slid her down until her bottom rested on the seat in the corner. Hot water poured down around them as his palms slid up her calves and pushed her knees apart. His mouth came against her. Her head fell back against the cool tiles as sensation washed over her in waves. He explored her folds with his tongue, teased over and around her clit and stroked his fingers deeply inside. Pleasure built and built until she thought she would explode. He abruptly pulled back and lifted her. She heard the tear of foil and felt him roll the condom on. In one swift motion, he sank into her. Her channel clenched around him. She clawed at his back, flexing into him as he pushed her against the wall. He surged into her again and again, his motions rough and unmeasured. She clung to him, chasing the sweet release. In one driving thrust, pleasure burst through her and she cried out. He found his release with another surge, a hoarse cry falling from his lips.

Awareness filtered in as the hot water sluiced over them. Garrett’s strong arms held her without pause. He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers through the steam. He slowly eased his grip and pulled away from her.

***

Garrett’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, and he rolled over to check it. Delia was tucked close against his side. All he wanted was to stay right where he was. Delia’s soft body was warm in her sleep. He’d promised he’d wake her, so she could drive home. Rationally, he completely understood she couldn’t spend too many nights away, but it didn’t change the fact he wanted more than stolen hours with her. He rolled back over and soaked in the feel of her. She shifted, her voice gravelly with sleep when she spoke.

“Was that the alarm?”

“Mmmhmm.” He nuzzled her neck and stroked down her body from her shoulder over the lush curve of her breast, into the dip of her waist and coming to rest on her hip.

She rolled in his arms. “I have to go.”

“Don’t want you to.”

She giggled. “I don’t want to go either, but I need to be there in the morning.”

He took a breath. “I know.” He dropped a kiss on her neck and kicked the covers away.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes and then climbed out of bed. She quickly got dressed, and he followed suit.

“You don’t need to get up with me.”

“I’ll walk you out. Do you have a remote start?”

She looked at him for a moment before nodding. He didn’t want to explain how he felt—the curl of protectiveness, the need to make sure she was okay.

She nodded toward the counter as she walked to the bathroom. He grabbed her keys and hit the remote start button. Several moments later, he walked at her side through the long hallway and down the curving staircase to the reception area.

The wind had picked up during the night. An icy gust whipped at them when they stepped outside. He slid his arm across her shoulders and tugged her to his side. The snow packed ground muted their footsteps on the walk across the parking lot. When they reached her car, Delia tilted her head up.

“Oooh, look!”

She pointed. He followed her gesture and saw green and blue shimmering in the dark sky. His breath caught. The northern lights were rare, even in Alaska. In the quiet with nothing other than the soft hum of her car’s engine, he watched the colors flutter in the sky. It was as if a sheer curtain of green and blue was waving in the breeze. He stood still, stunned into silence.

After several moments, Delia’s voice broke through his trance. “Amazing, huh?”

He took a breath, the bracing air soothing him. “Yeah. I’ve never seen the northern lights.”
“Most people haven’t,” she replied softly. “I should get going.”

He tore his eyes away from the sky and looked down at her. “Right.” He reached around her and opened her car door. “See you tomorrow.” He caught her lips in a quick kiss before stepping back. She climbed in her car and drove away.

He stood alone in the dark after she was gone and watched the northern lights dance in the sky, the blur of blue and green alive in the night.

Only when he shivered in the cold did he walk back inside. He glanced at the clock as he lay down in bed. One in the morning and he was wide awake, his mind spinning over thoughts of Delia and what to do about his life in Seattle. More and more, he wanted to shift the gears in his life, but it confused him how he could so easily give up what he’d built. Not to mention he wasn’t certain if the draw to Alaska was mostly Delia. He worried he was about to make major changes because of a woman, something he’d promised himself he would never do. What if he uprooted himself and his fantasies about Delia didn’t bear out? What if he couldn’t be the kind of man she deserved? That last question tore at him.

Chapter 11

Delia hung her apron on the hook by her office door and closed the door behind her. End of the month reports were due, and she needed quiet for that. The kitchen hummed with the activity of prepping and cooking. The crew had just finished the breakfast rotation and was capitalizing on the temporary lull in the restaurant to get ready to serve lunch. She sat down at her desk with a sigh. Her mind wandered to Garrett, or rather her mind replayed the loop in her brain—the feel of Garrett’s lips on her neck, hot water running over her as he pounded into her, falling asleep in his arms, and walking outside into the icy cold, intimacy weaving between them as they stared up at the inky black sky dancing with northern lights.

She shook her head sharply and tapped her keyboard. Her laptop powered up. She quickly opened up the accounts and got to work. A while later, she rubbed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She emailed the reports to Gage and the lodge accountant before standing to look out the window. Last Frontier Lodge was situated at the base of several peaks and afforded views from almost every window. The slice of view from her small office was of the thick spruce forest and a mountain ridge in the distance. Snow dusted the evergreen trees. An eagle screeched in the distance, its call sharp and unmistakable. She watched and waited before the eagle lifted from the trees, spreading its wings wide. With an average wingspan of six to seven and a half feet, eagles were immense birds. The eagle lifted in flight slowly before swooping in a half circle and flying above the slopes.

Delia’s phone chirped. She slipped it out of her pocket and answered without glancing to see who it was.

“Hello.”

There was a long enough pause that she remembered she might be getting a call from Nick’s grandmother.

“I’m trying to reach Delia,” a woman said politely.

“You found her,” Delia replied, her heart beating rapidly.

“Delia, this is Helen Carson. Terry gave me your number and said it would be okay if I called you.”

Delia took a deep breath. “Yes, Terry told me you wanted to call.” She didn’t really know what else to say. This was an awkward introduction and loaded with emotional baggage for her. It brought up her lingering anger with Terry for so thoroughly shutting the door on Nick, along with her anger at herself for being so foolish. She didn’t regret having Nick, not even for a second, but she regretted her inability to see Terry for who he was. If she’d had more sense at the time, perhaps Nick would have a father who cared.

Helen spoke again. “I’m sure this is awkward for you, and I’m sorry for that. Terry never told me about you or about Nick. If he’d told me, I’d have reached out much sooner.”

Delia’s chest loosened slightly at Helen’s words. “Awkward is one way to put it. I’m not really sure how to go about this.”