22. Tucker
Chapter Twenty-Two
TUCKER
Skylar glanced toward the sunset over the marsh when we stepped out into the parking area. It was a stunner. Although Alaska spoiled you like that. Every day was a stunner. An eagle screeched, and Skylar glanced around.
“What is that?” she asked.
I paused, looking down at her. “It’s an eagle.”
“That’s an eagle?” Her eyes widened. “It’s all screechy.”
Just then, the eagle in question screeched again as it lifted off from a tree along the edge of the marsh. We started walking again. Without thinking, I reached for her hand. “This way.”
“Where?” she asked. She stiffened slightly, but then her hand relaxed in mine.
I pointed with my other hand toward the walkway off to one side of the parking lot. It was just beyond where I’d parked.
“Oh!” Her eyes lit up.
She walked with me onto the wooden walkway that led out over the marsh. She dropped my hand, curling both of hers on the railing. Leaning against it, she looked out, her gaze scanning the horizon. “It’s so beautiful,” she breathed.
“It is. I’ve been here over four years, and I honestly haven’t gotten used to it yet.”
She looked up at me. “No?”
I shook my head and pointed toward a cluster of alder trees to one side of this marshy area. “There are a few moose over there.”
Her head whipped around. “Oh! They’re so big. Ludie tells me to be careful around moose.”
“Yeah, they’re nearsighted. By the time you’re close enough for them to see you, they can charge you pretty quick. More people get hurt by moose than bears.”
“I don’t want to see a grizzly or a brown bear,” she announced firmly. “What’s the difference anyway?”
“I’ve been told brown bears are along the coast. So, any you see around here would be browns. Grizzlies are in the interior, away from the coastline. Grizzlies are a little smaller than brown bears.”
“Why is that?” she prompted.
“Because they have a kick-ass diet on the coast, all that salmon.”
“Seriously?”
I shrugged. “Makes sense. I’m with you on seeing them, though. I don’t need to see a brown bear or grizzly bear up close. I see them here and there when I’m flying.”
“You do?”
“Oh, yeah. Have you been across the bay in a plane?”
Skylar’s hair swung as she shook her head. “Well, that does it. I’m taking you for a ride.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“You can ride along when I have a delivery trip.”
I would’ve offered to take her on a tour, but I knew Skylar wouldn’t agree to that.
She turned to look out over the marshy field, her eyes scanning the sky, which was outdoing itself this evening with shades of pink, lavender, and hints of a bloodred staining the sky.
I could appreciate the view, but I was more focused on wanting to kiss Skylar. Something fierce.
We fell quiet. Alaska never failed to remind me of one shining thing.
You could forget yourself if you just fell into the moment.
The beauty was stark, so encompassing. While my need to kiss Skylar didn’t abate, it twined within the quiet of the twilight.
The light thinned into darkness. Second by second, the stars were starting to show.
The soft gust of a salty breeze came from the bay across the marsh.
Skylar made a sound, something like a sigh.
I glanced down just as she peered up at me.
Her cheeks were tinged pink from the cool spring air.
Because I wasn’t thinking, my need led me.
Angling to face her, I waited a moment before I dipped down, giving her time to turn away, to tell me another kiss was stupid, but she didn’t.
I couldn’t say for certain, but I thought she leaned up to meet me as I bent low.
Her lips were warm. A shock of electricity sizzled between us when I fit my mouth over hers.
She let out a soft sigh into our kiss, and then our tongues were tangling, and the kiss went on and on and on. It got hot and deep fast .
I lost sense of where we were until the sound of a raven calling nearby, loud and sharp in the twilight sky, snapped through the haze of my need and punctured my awareness. We broke apart, our breath ragged in the quiet air.
Skylar was pressed against me. I had one arm banded around her waist and the other cupping her nape.
I trailed my thumb across the side of her neck and over the wild thrum of her pulse.
I stepped back, reflexively reaching for her hand.
Just as my fingers laced with hers, I expected her to tug away, but she didn’t.