5. Nora
Chapter Five
NORA
Feeling toasty warm, I burrowed closer to Gabriel’s always comforting and solid form. He had an arm curled around my shoulders, and I was shamelessly plastered against his chest. Despite the cold metal under my sleeping bag and the howling wind, I’d slept better last night than I had in months.
Until my brain flickered online, and I remembered I wasn’t supposed to be with Gabriel. Fuck. I didn’t realize my inside thought had formed into an audible whisper until he replied.
“Well, if that’s how you want to start the day, I’m down for that.” The low rumble of his teasing tone vibrated through me.
Without any way to finesse this moment, I propped myself up on an elbow. His eyes were open. He stared at me with a sleepy, sensual look I knew well.
Longing pierced me so sharply it almost hurt. I glanced around us, surveying the situation. There wasn’t much room back here.
Somehow, my sleeping bag was no longer zipped. As much as I wanted to blame it on Gabriel, I knew better. That didn’t stop me from trying. When my eyes made their way back to his, I said, “You unzipped my sleeping bag.”
“Nice try, but no.” He shook his head. His hand was splayed low on my waist, just above my bottom. My knee was tucked over his muscled thigh. I supposed I should be grateful I hadn’t stripped myself naked in my apparently crazed desire to get close to him.
“It’s quiet outside,” I observed.
“Wind’s down. We can leave.”
He hadn’t moved. Because of the placement of my knee, I was acutely aware of his arousal. And mine. I could feel the slick heat of it between my thighs. This was what happened when I ended up alone with Gabriel. Every ounce of my sensibility flew out the window.
I wanted to kiss him so badly, my lips were tingling.
The distinct sound of a small plane engine in the distance was enough to snap me out of this insane reverie.
I scrambled away from him. In a matter of minutes, we were both out of the plane.
I walked to the edge of the shoreline and splashed icy-cold ocean water on my face.
It was bracing, but it sure as hell woke me up.
After I’d given him the go-ahead to use my little camp stove, he’d started boiling some water. When I returned to the plane, he gestured toward a small coffee filter propped over a container. “Coffee is brewing. Keep an eye on it. I’ll be right back.”
A plane flew over us as Gabriel waved and strode to the water, doing the same as I had, splashing his face and drying it with a towel. We both had travel toothbrushes and the like. I was impatient for the coffee and watched as it drained slowly through the filter.
By the time we were getting ready to fly, I was relieved to have some caffeine in my system. Gabriel was running through the pre-flight checks when he said, “I meant it. I love you.”
Tears pricked my eyes, and my throat felt thick.
For me, trying to find trust in someone else was akin to trying to catch leaves blowing in the wind.
I didn’t want him to see me crying, so I looked away.
I watched the stunning view through a blur as the plane lifted into the sky while the familiar sound of the engine rumbled.
When he reached across and curled his hand over where mine rested on top of my thigh, I told myself to swat his touch away. Yet I couldn’t make myself do it.
The paneled ceiling above my head had exactly sixteen knots in the wood. Bored with counting them, I rolled to my side and stared out the window.
With the help of my two brothers and the other guys who worked at the resort, I’d built this small house myself.
I’d specifically wanted a window level with my bed so I could see the moon and the stars at night.
I’d never been a great sleeper, so I wanted a view when I woke.
Too many nights as a little girl of being startled awake when my father came home, usually drunk, had made sleep elusive for me.
My parents would argue, and it would sound sharp and broken, leaving my nerves jangling as I lay alone in bed.
I always felt a pinch of relief when he would disappear again. Tangled within that relief, I struggled with the unsettled weight of my mother’s worry about money. In short, I hadn’t slept well since childhood.
When I woke up, I wanted a nice view at night because even though my father had passed away years ago, I still slept restlessly. I supposed the habits formed in childhood were hard to break, especially when it came to sleep and the way the unconscious held sway.
There were no moon and stars to look at this morning.
The sun was marching up the sky, dew glistening on the fireweed spread out in front of me.
The pretty weed stood tall with its bright fuchsia petals, filling many a field in Alaska's landscape. If it wasn’t so abundant, it would be worth cultivating.
These fields of fuchsia started in late summer and rolled through fall until the petals fell and coated the ground with their bright whimsy until they faded.
Even Alaska’s stunning views couldn’t soothe the restlessness in my heart and mind this morning. I kicked back the covers and snagged my phone from my bedside table. Even though it was a tiny bit cowardly, I elected to call Daphne instead of anyone else at the lodge.
“Morning!” She greeted me with more cheer than I was prepared for.
“Good morning,” I replied. “I’m not feeling well. Could you let Flynn know? I don’t have any official flights scheduled because we canceled them all yesterday.”
“Are you okay? Can I get you anything?” Daphne pressed, her honest concern twisting my heart a little.
“I’ll be okay. I feel a migraine coming on. I’ll knock back some ibuprofen, and I should feel better in a little while.” I was lying, but I didn’t feel like dealing with anyone this morning.
“Okay. Call over here if you need anything.”
I hung up and stared at my feet dangling off the edge of my tall four-poster bed. My toenails were painted bright blue. My seventeen-year-old sister, Cat, had wanted to paint them the other evening. I laughed a little at my toes before shimmying off the bed.
While I didn’t have a migraine, I did have a mild headache.
More than that, though, I didn’t know what to do and wasn’t up for facing the tight group of friends and family I lived and worked with.
I believed that Gabriel believed what he said about loving me.
I just knew all too well how much my baggage couldn’t tolerate the fracture in our relationship after he’d so bluntly told me he couldn’t consider commitment months ago.
It had all started stupidly. Friends with benefits seemed easy enough to do.
Because I believed I would never fall for anyone.
I thought I was too smart for that. Gabriel and I had serious chemistry, the kind that burned like a hot flare in the sky.
I figured it might be complicated because he was one of my brother’s best friends, but I thought I could manage it.
I also thought that flare would eventually burn out, but it didn’t.
Apparently, our chemistry was of the peat fire variety. It felt destined to burn into infinity.
I turned these thoughts over in my mind while the hot water ran down over me in the shower. I wished I hadn’t gone and fallen in love with Gabriel. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Even though I thought it was impossible for me to trust, I wanted to.
When what was supposed to be a fun fling with a friend turned into much more in my heart, I wasn’t thinking clearly.
I felt safe with Gabriel and told him I wanted more than our sort of secret friends-with-benefits arrangement.
But he’d slapped down that idea hard and fast.
By the time I was dressed in my comfortable lounge around the house clothes, a fuzzy fleece top and buttery soft leggings, I was ready to spend the day watching distracting television. I was on my way to getting over Gabriel even if he thought he loved me.
Halfway through a cup of coffee and an episode of a baking show, I heard a knock on my door. I stared over at the door curiously. Aside from my family and anyone else who worked at the resort, people didn’t just drop by, not out here.
I stood, crossing to the door cautiously. When I peered out the side window and saw it was Daphne, relief coursed through me. I swung the door open.
“Hey,” I said, wondering why she was here.
Daphne’s green eyes twinkled. “Hey, I brought you some soup.” She held up a plastic container. “It’s still warm.” She also had a cloth bag looped over her arm.
Opening the door wider, I gestured her through. “You’re too good to me.”
“Your place is so freaking cute,” she said as she walked past me.
Her auburn hair was pulled up in a braid that was spun in a circle and pinned in place.
Daphne was petite, curvy, and incredible, giving off this highly competent and tidy vibe.
My brother had fallen for her so hard it was a joke among the rest of us.
We all adored her, though, and she was the best thing ever for him.
She guarded his heart like the fierce woman she was.
“What kind of soup is it?” I asked as I followed her over to the table in the kitchen area.
My downstairs had an open living room and kitchen with a woodstove situated against the back wall, which was practically standard-issue in Alaska.
Wide-plank hardwood flooring throughout the house gave the space a warm feel.
The living room area took up most of the downstairs with a loveseat and two chairs facing the television mounted on the wall.
Windows to the other side offered a view of a field with trees scattered through it.