Stakeout (Aurora Sky (17 page)

Dante clapped his hands together, signaling
an end to such gloomy thoughts.

“I’ll make the fire. You’re on dinner.”

At the moment, I was too relieved to be out
of the snow and inside a solid structure, no matter how small or
cold, to worry about sexism. Let the caveman make his fire. Fine by
me. Besides, Dante had mentioned the food came in cans. He’d gotten
the short end of the stick in my opinion.

I made a beeline to the cupboards, feeling a
burst of joy upon finding a can of SpaghettiOs beside a stack of
Spam. I stood on my tiptoes and snatched the spaghetti. It didn’t
take long to locate a can opener and pan—there were only so many
drawers to look through.

Using a metal spoon, I emptied the pasta into
the pan, scraping every last “O” off the ribbed edges. I snatched
the box of matches from the table to light the single burner then
rummaged around the cupboards again while the spaghetti heated. A
grin spread over my face when I found a bag of Doritos only one
month past its expiration date and, the icing on the cupcake, an
unopened box of Hostess cream-filled cakes.

Holy Kris Kringle! It was Christmas in
February.

The floorboards creaked with Dante’s
movements around the cabin. The door of the wood stove groaned in
protest when he pulled it open. It echoed with the sound of logs
being tossed inside. The crinkle of paper followed, then silence. A
few moments later, Dante gave a satisfied “whoop” that I took to
mean the fire was alive and kicking.

For some reason, I felt like humming
Christmas carols.

Dante walked over and reached inside a
cupboard, pulling out a bowl. At first I thought it was for the
chips—party time in the cabin—but a moment later, he was filling it
with dry dog food. He set it near the table. His dog chowed down
the moment the bowl hit the floorboards.

He moved toward the front door. “I’ll be back
with water for the big guy and beer for us.”

Dante returned shortly with a gallon of water
and six-pack of beer. He filled a bowl with water. Next, Dante
pulled out his keys and popped the lid off two Alaskan Ambers from
the Alaskan Brewing Company, setting one down on the counter beside
me.

“What’s that you’ve got cooking?” Dante
asked. The excitement in his voice made me smile.

“It’s nothing out of the Cordon Bleu, but
it’s edible.”

“Food is food,” Dante said, walking over. “Is
it ready?”

I looked inside the pan. A bubble burst
through the sauce and popped at the surface.

“Yep.”

“Great, I’m starving.”

Yeah, nothing like hiking through the woods
to work up a beastly appetite.

Dante crouched down to get tinfoil out of a
bottom drawer. He tore into the cupcake box, unwrapped four
individual cakes and wrapped them in the tinfoil. While Dante stuck
the cupcakes on top of the woodstove, I dished the spaghetti into
two mugs, sticking a spoon in each.

Using my elbow to squeeze the bag of chips to
my side, I took a mug by the handle in each hand and set them on
the table before going back for our beers. Dante quickly joined
me.

“Nothing like a hot meal and a bottle of beer
in front of the fire,” he said. He swallowed a spoonful of
SpaghettiOs and grinned. “These are good.” He said it like I’d made
them from scratch.

“Thanks.”

We finished the spaghetti in no time then
moved onto the beer and chips. The fire crackled and snapped. With
each sip, I began to warm up and feel a blissful sort of serenity
wash over me.

I never would have pegged myself as a woodsy
girl, but this wasn’t half bad. It was easy to leave behind all the
cares in the world when I was sipping a beer deep in the woods.

Dante tilted his beer back and gulped it down
until there was nothing left. “Want another?” he asked.

“Why not?”

I finished mine while he opened two more
bottles.

“Let’s strategize,” Dante said.

I took a swig from my fresh bottle. “There’s
nothing to strategize. Let me define stakeout for you. It means
surveillance duty, spying—like what you did with those fancy
goggles of yours. Tomorrow we’ll see if Buck’s at work. Same thing
the day after that until he has a day off and then we’ll see what
he does in his free time.”

“You mean besides sit in front of the tube
eating Cheetos?” Dante huffed. “Most boring vampire ever.”

“Buck’s actually a really cool guy.”

“You sure are defensive when it comes to
vampires. Did you date one or something?”

I glared at Dante. That question was way too
personal. It caused pain inside my heart because it reminded me of
how close I’d come to sleeping with Gavin. No matter how screwed up
it was, I felt disappointed and heartbroken over someone who’d
never even been mine. I felt the loss of possibility.

“I don’t date vampires,” I said coldly.

Dante set his beer down and gave me an
assessing look before saying, “Good, because you deserve better
than some half-human wannabe.”

“Thanks. That’s... touching.”

“No problem.” Dante took a swig of beer.

After we polished off the unthawed cupcakes,
Dante offered to rinse our mugs and spoons outside with the jug of
water he’d brought along. Guess he had better manners than I
originally thought.

I tossed the spaghetti can, Doritos bag,
cupcake wrappers, tinfoil, and beer bottles into a plastic garbage
sack. That done, it was time to assess the sleeping situation. It
made sense to take the smaller cot in the corner closest to the
door. Both beds were beside the stove. A blissful warmth filled the
air beside the fire.

I hadn’t removed my coat until now. Folding
it carefully, I tucked it inside my duffel bag. I unzipped my
hoodie next and removed my skirt and top. I wasn’t too worried
about Dante walking back in. It wasn’t like he’d make any moves
with someone he perceived as a little sister, and I’d never been
especially modest.

I slipped on a midnight blue T-shirt, leaving
the thick tights on like leggings.

Dante returned with the rinsed mugs as I
slipped inside the cot’s sleeping bag. “Good idea,” he said after
setting the mugs on the kitchen’s narrow strip of counter. “We
should get some shut eye before another
exciting
day of surveillance.”

I rolled onto my side, facing the wall. “Good
night, Moose.”

“Good night, Mouse.”

I smiled to myself and closed my eyes.

Dante shuffled around the cabin. There was a
loud puff of air, and the lights dimmed. Footsteps, followed by the
pitter-patter of dog paws, made their way across the floorboards to
the corner on the other side of the stove. Dante unzipped his bag
and rummaged around. The sound of his movements faded as sleep
pulled me under. I slept the sleep of the dead. My internal body
alarm woke me in the morning, but I ignored it and went back to the
land of blissful unconsciousness.

9

The bears weren’t the only ones hibernating. Dante,
the dog, and I slept in until midday. After dragging our asses out
of bed, we ate cupcakes to tide us over before hitting up a
McDonald’s drive-through in the early afternoon. We ate inside the
Jeep, across from the A&P where Buck had started his shift at
two p.m.

Dante slurped his soda while paging through a
Maxim
magazine, followed by
GQ
.

I spent the time trying not to agonize over
what it was about me that wasn’t good enough for Gavin or any other
guy.

At three forty-five p.m., Dante announced he
was taking his dog up and down the sidewalk for a pee. He grabbed a
pair of sunglasses from the clip on his visor and put them on,
followed by a baseball cap.

“Good,” I said. “You’re getting the hang of
this surveillance thing.”

“Nah,” Dante said. “I can’t have anyone
driving by recognizing me. If my mom finds out I drove up and
didn’t see her—woo—I’m in big trouble.”

He hopped out of the Jeep and got his dog
out.

While Dante led his dog down the sidewalk, I
snatched his
GQ
and flipped through the
pages.

Look at all the hotness in here, Noel.

Sexy young actors. Yes. This is what deserved
my attention and focus, not Gavin. Gavin, Gavin, Gavin. He kept
popping into my head. I was sick of him! If he was fool enough to
choose Valerie, I should pity him, not pine after him. What the
hell was wrong with me? Clive was right. No man would ever love me.
He’d been right all along.

My lips pinched together. I slapped the
magazine shut and tossed it on the dashboard.

When Dante returned, he let his dog into the
backseat and opened the trunk, scraped around for a few minutes,
closed the hatch, and returned to his post behind the wheel.

Dante groaned. “This is worse than sitting in
an airplane. At least in a plane you’re getting somewhere. Do you
think Aurora’s landed in Sitka yet?”

“No idea.”

“They’re so lucky. Gonna get the vamp house
again. It’s not fair.”

“Wah, wah, wah,” I said.

Dante leaned across the armrest, close to my
face. “You can’t tell me you’re having fun?”

I shrugged. “Beats school.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Dante relaxed back into his
chair.

Around six p.m., we did a grocery run. It
wasn’t like Buck was going anywhere. Dante had me go into the store
alone in case his mom or any of her friends were shopping. He made
a request for more SpaghettiO’s—at least one can each tonight.

Just after nine p.m., we watched Buck leave
work. We tailed him home then turned around at the end of the road
again, but tonight, instead of traipsing through the woods, we
headed back to the cabin where I made another round of canned
spaghetti.

We turned in shortly after eating. There
wasn’t a whole else lot to do in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.
The novelty wore off really quickly after spending a day sitting in
one place freezing my ass off with nothing better to do than obsess
over a vampire not worth the energy it took to fire the electrons
in my brain.

I held my phone half a foot away from my face
and began reading a sample of
Fifty Shades of
Grey
that I’d downloaded using the Kindle app. Ana met the
sexy Mr. Grey in Seattle then interviewed him and drove back to
Vancouver, Washington. What the hell? I thought this was a sex
book.

I began speed reading until I saw Mr. Grey
reappear in Vancouver at Ana’s place of work and ask to purchase
cable cord followed by masking tape and rope. After which the
sample ended.

Dante chuckled in a deep throaty voice.

I couldn’t see him over the wood stove.

“What?” I asked defensively. As if he had any
idea what I’d been reading.

“I think Aurora’s bored.”

I turned on my side. “So, she didn’t get the
vamp house?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“Say hi for me.”

“Umm, hmm,” Dante said in a faraway voice

I purchased
Fifty
Shades
and tried not to picture Gavin’s face on Mr. Grey
when he tied Ana up.