Baby It's Cold Outside (23 page)

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Authors: Addison Fox

BOOK: Baby It's Cold Outside
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She wondered at his words, especially knowing a good portion of his business was tied to landing on the mountain with tour groups, but held her tongue. It didn’t take much to see the rescue had taken its toll and he was hanging on by a very thin thread. His blue eyes looked overly bright, his normally tan skin unnaturally pale.
Sloan knew there were any number of flaws with her upbringing, but perfect social skills wasn’t one of them. Couple that with an innate gift for small talk and she could usually diffuse most difficult situations. “You’ve lived here your whole life?”
“Born and raised.”
“Do you ever wonder what it’s like somewhere else?”
He shrugged, but Sloan was pleased to see his hand was steadier when he did. “I get out of here from time to time. Nothing ever caught my fancy well enough not to come back.”
“I’ve always felt that way about New York.”
Had
always felt, she mentally corrected herself.
“Do you miss it?”
“Not as much as I thought I would. Besides, it’s way more important to be here for Grier. New York’s not going anywhere.”
Mick hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words. Before she could wonder too long at it, he rubbed a hand over the rough stubble on his face. “She’ll go back once this is all settled. All this stuff with Jonas’s house and all.”
“I guess.”
“Shame.”
“What?”
Mick shook his head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
A loud shout went up before Sloan could say anything in response. She whirled in the direction of where the doctors were working, but she knew immediately what had caused the noise.
The man Mick brought off the mountain hadn’t survived.
Chapter Fourteen
 
I
f the night of her arrival was the height of revelry, this evening was its somber opposite. Sloan allowed her gaze to roam around the Jitters—the large coffeehouse that sat at the end of Main Street next to the Indigo Blue—overcome by a wave of sadness. She had gotten to know the residents of this quirky town and felt their collective grief as her own.
Although they were a far smaller crowd than had filled the Indigo’s lobby after the town hall, there were enough people assembled to sit in a strange sort of memorial for the fallen researcher no one actually knew personally. People kept their voices low, engaged in the reassuring camaraderie of having others nearby.
Again, Sloan found herself awed by these hearty people and the life they’d built up here. In a harsh, unforgiving climate there was a close-knit community of people who cared about one another. Shared with one another. Comforted one another.
Even when the tragedy involved a total stranger.
Walker had stayed behind at the airport with his grandmother, so Sloan had gotten a ride back with Mick. He’d disappeared shortly after depositing her at the coffeehouse and she now sat in a small circle with Grier and Avery.
“Did you enjoy Anchorage, at least?” Avery reached for the foamy latte that sat on the small table between them.
“It was interesting.”
“Oh?” Grier’s eyebrows rose as she reached for an oversized cup full of mocha. “That’s a loaded answer.”
“Let’s just say it was a loaded afternoon.”
At the twin stares, she quickly caught them up on what had happened at dinner and the subsequent flight home.
“Victoria’s got a bad reputation even up here in Indigo,” Avery offered. “None of us could figure out what he saw in her.”
“I have a pretty good guess,” Sloan added dryly.
“Saw, Sloan. Past tense. He hasn’t run with her in a long time.”
“Define long.”
“Months. Since well before the summer.”
Sloan shook her head. “Like it matters.”
“It does matter,” Grier added in a show of solidarity.
“You were on a date with him and the two of you were intruded upon.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
Grier’s sole response was a raised eyebrow.
“Oh, don’t give me the eye.” Sloan waved a hand at Grier, which her cheeky friend immediately reached out and grabbed, linking their fingers in a good, tight squeeze.
“Well, what did you go and do that for?”
And there it was again. The offer of comfort and companionship. Only this time it was the familiar comfort of more than a decade of friendship.
Hot tears pricked the backs of her eyes and Sloan dropped Grier’s hand after squeezing back. On a deep breath, she continued. “So payback’s only fair. If you can dole it out, so can I. I think you need to end the sex moratorium and jump Mick O’Shaughnessy’s bones.”
Grier’s wide smile fell. “Excuse me.”
“He’s got it as bad for you as you do for him. All anyone needs is to get in, oh, I don’t know, about a hundred feet of the two of you to see it. But tonight at the airport cemented it. That man wants you.”
A sly smile lit up Avery’s face. “Did he say something?”
“It was more what he didn’t say. I’m telling you, Grier. You need to give up the chase and spend some time with that man.”
“I’m not going there.”
“Why not?” Although her friend wasn’t one to casually fling herself from one man to another, Sloan really couldn’t see a single flaw to her plan. Especially since she’d never seen Grier this twisted over a guy. Not even her ex-fiancé.
Grier shook her head no, but her eyes gleamed with a bright yes. “That way lies madness.”
“Going without it lies the way to madness, too,” Avery suggested helpfully.
Sloan clinked mugs with her. “So very true.”
“I’m not sleeping with Mick.”
“You might think that tone is full of conviction, Grier Thompson, but I hear the cracks.”
“Some best friend you are.” Grier punctuated the comment with a small pout. “You’re supposed to be supporting me from making bad decisions.”
Sloan wasn’t sure when the devil on her shoulder had landed, but now that it had, she couldn’t resist offering a not-so-innocent push. “From where I’m sitting, it’s not only a good decision, it’s fucking inspired. Besides, you know it would be fun. And he seems like a really great guy.”
“The best. And,” Avery added, “he’s at the hotel right now.”
“What’s he doing there?” Sloan had assumed he was heading home after dropping her off.
“I sent him into the sauna to warm up before I walked over here.”
“See,” Sloan turned toward Grier as she kept pushing her point. “It’s a great idea. And he’s all alone.”
“No, it’s probably not a great idea.” Grier’s smile fell as a soft, faraway look took over her misty gray eyes. “But I’m quite sure it would be an incredible ride.”
 
Walker deftly avoided glancing at the far corner of the terminal as he took a seat next to his grandmother. With gentle movements, he touched Sophie’s arm to get her attention.
“Are you all right? There’s really nothing else to be done here. We should be going. Jack left the car running so it could warm up.”
“It’s just terribly sad, Walker. So very, very sad. A young life lost, others which will bear the scars of this day for the rest of their lives.”
He glanced out the window of the small lobby to where the snow continued to fall in heavy flakes on the landing strip, his grandmother’s words ringing in his ears like alarm bells.
He knew about scars. Knew about the days that changed your life and actions you couldn’t take back.
Choices you couldn’t take back.
“Come on. If we wait too much longer we’re going to have a hard time getting home. We probably should have left an hour ago.”
“That young man’s family needed to know what happened.”
“You could have called them in the morning. Or from home.”
She shrugged and for the first time he noticed just how her age had started to catch up with her. Although Sophie Montgomery had a wonderful spirit and a commanding presence, he had to admit she was showing the strains of her age.
And she wouldn’t be with them forever.
“I wanted to make sure they could ask questions of the doctor if they had any.”
“So you did what needed to be done. His family’s been called, the doctors have done what they can and the sheriff’s taken care of the other researchers. There’s nothing else to do here.”
His grandmother sighed and took the arm he offered, allowing him to walk her toward the exit. Jack had waited for them with his big SUV, which was why Walker had given Sophie the extra time she needed. Jack’s Yukon might not be foolproof against a bad storm, but knowing they had a ride in the big boat had allowed them some breathing room to deal with the evening’s events before the driving conditions got too bad.
What an evening.
The day replayed in his mind as they walked out into the cold night air.
Sloan.
Why couldn’t he get her out of his head? It was as if she filled his thoughts until there wasn’t room for anything else.
After settling his grandmother into the backseat, Walker climbed in next to her, surprised when she reached for his hand.
“Do you understand why I push you so much? About getting married and having a family?”
“Actually, I think ‘harass’ might be a better word. ‘Harangue.’ ‘Badger.’”
He was surprised when his teasing words failed to elicit even a small smile. Instead, she simply squeezed his hand harder as tears spilled down her paper-thin cheeks. “I don’t do it to badger you or make you mad. I do it because I hate the idea of you being alone.”
She pointed toward the airport. “That young man in there. He’ll never have a family. Or know the love of a spouse or the joy of children. He’ll never see the future or share it with someone. Life is too short, Walker. Much too short. I miss your grandfather every day, but I had so many years. Wonderful years together. I want that for you.”
His throat grew tight and he didn’t know quite how to respond to her earnest pleading. He couldn’t change who he was any more than he could change what had shaped him.
“It’s not that easy, Grandmother. Besides, that life’s not for everyone.”
“And you think you’re one of those not suited to marriage?”
He always had.
Ever since that day when he’d discovered the truth about his father, he’d believed that a life with a partner would eventually lead him down the same path of deceit, omission and half-truths to whomever he shared his life with.
All bathed in the lies he’d tell himself about being a good person, a good father and a good husband, albeit one who simply found an outlet elsewhere from time to time.
An image of Sloan filled his mind’s eye again, first the curve of her cheek bathed in the glow from the candle between them at dinner. Then the impish spirit she showed in dealing with Victoria, never allowing the woman the upper hand, despite the awkwardness of the interruption. The strength she’d shown at the airport as they realized the extent of the tragedy.
She’d be a woman a man could share his life with and still never discover all her facets.
And that was the crux of it, really.
How did someone who’d spent their adult life focused on dodging any form of commitment let go of that conviction? That certainty?
That absolute, unshakeable belief that vows and obligations simply weren’t for him.
 
The heat of the sauna washed over him, but Mick felt none of it. The harsh cold he’d spent most of the day in had seeped into his bones and nothing—not the bottle of Jack Daniel’s Avery had thrust into his hand or the warmth of the room—could chase it away.
Neither could they chase away the cold reality of death. It had interrupted all their lives and offered a dour reminder of the severe environment they all chose to call home.
Images continued to bombard him, ones he knew he’d see for a long time to come. The researchers as he came upon them on the side of the mountain, almost delirious with panic as they tried to keep pressure on their friend’s wounds. The blood that congealed in a great pool a short distance away.
He’d reacted on instinct, simply taking over and doing what had to be done. Just as he had for his mother that horrible, awful day.
And now he’d pay the price with memories that intertwined, mixing the events into a swirling morass of misery.
“Fuck.”
Mick slammed the bottle to his lips, taking another long swallow, abstractly wondering when the alcohol would kick in, helping him to forget.
It was a remedy he avoided most of the time, but hell, he was only human. He figured he was entitled to a good old-fashioned bender.
Fucking-A.
“What are you doing in here, all by yourself?”

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