Chapter 4 #2
She hasn’t seen me yet, even though I’m close enough to touch her with my arm. I don’t want to scare her, so I step back, purposefully pressing the leaves under my shoes to make noise.
“Alaska?” She turns quickly, hands curling into little fists as her blue eyes widen. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” I run a hand through my sweaty short hair. I was expecting the words to get stuck, but they came out smoothly.
Her hands relax by her sides. “You didn’t.”
I move closer, just enough to notice the flush on her cheeks.
“Nice view.” Her gaze flicks to my arms and black gym shorts, her pupils dilating at the sight of my skin.
She’s so pretty it hurts. I flex my jaw, remembering Jared’s words.
She’s been through enough. What could that possibly mean?
I looked into her at the station; her name doesn’t appear in any report.
Surely whatever happened must be written somewhere if Jared was that bothered by it.
Silence stretches between us as she drinks me in from head to toe, unaware of how long she takes to respond.
I could be annoyed, but honestly, it’s the most adorable thing I’ve seen in a decade.
Most of the time, I try not to stumble over my words.
But right now, I’m praying for it. Looking stupid in front of a stranger is one thing.
Stuttering in front of a beautiful young woman is mortifying.
“Do you come here often?” I try again, because she’s probably forgotten what I first said.
She looks back at the water and answers softly, “No, not very often.” Her left hand scratches lightly at her knuckles. Her skin is as pale as porcelain, almost translucent. I expect her to keep talking, but she doesn’t. Alaska’s not a talker. Copy that.
“I-I came for a quick run,” I say, pausing to control my breathing. “Wanted to catch the view a bit. The forest’s nice, um, good pathway.” I cringe internally. What am I saying?
She mutters, “Uh-huh,” as her eyes drift far away.
I tilt my head, half-smiling. “You don’t talk much, do you?
” I chuckle, stepping beside her until we’re standing shoulder to shoulder, facing the lake.
She could tell me to fuck off, but she doesn’t.
So I stay, still wondering what this little fae creature is made of, and why the hell I’m so drawn to her.
“Is there something you want, Officer?” she murmurs, lifting her face to me while I drown in her eyes, shifting on my feet under the weight of her attention.
If she’s trying to sound annoyed, it’s not working; the blush on her cheek betrays her.
I’ve been called Officer for years, and yet, in her mouth, it sounds… different. Dangerously tempting.
“I… Jack. Call me Jack.”
She smiles shyly, like she’s afraid someone might see it, her hands now tucked into the pockets of her raincoat. “How do you like your new town?”
“Better than I thought,” I confess, rubbing my chin while zeroing in on her.
Images of her asleep in my bed crowd my thoughts.
I imagine she smells like Christmas morning.
She’d look so right there, where no one could touch her.
The unfamiliar urge to protect her from whatever broke her swells in my chest, tightening every muscle in my body.
“Really?” She frowns. “Why?” That tiny line between her brows, so soft, I wish I could step closer, lean down, and kiss it.
“Thought I was gonna land in the middle of nowhere, to be honest. But it’s actually not so bad here.
” I say, shifting my eyes to the forest beyond the lake just to stop staring at her and her cherry-colored mouth.
She’s wrapped in a short navy raincoat, her light brown hair gleaming above it.
This girl looks like an angel, and I can’t stop wondering what the hell happened to her to make her so quiet and guarded.
Talking to her is easy, though. I barely stuttered.
That’s rare and really, really nice. Just as I start thinking maybe I should leave her in peace, I hear the softest voice, rolling off her tongue like cotton.
“Are you a runner?” she asks, turning slightly to take in the view. We’re standing side by side, and I swear the space between us has all but disappeared, our shoulders nearly touching.
“So you can talk.” I grin. “I am, yeah.” I clear my throat. “Anything that helps me b-blow off steam is, uh…good.”
“Is there… um, a reason you need to blow off some steam?” she asks, those big, innocent blue pools locked on mine. She has no idea the effect she has on me, and it only makes her more tempting.
Many reasons, Alaska. And you’re one of them.
“A few,” I say, flexing my jaw.
“Is that why you’re in Lakeside?” she asks, catching me off guard.
“Words travel f-fast.” I run a hand along the back of my neck.
“You have no idea.” She chuckles. “No secret stays safe for long here.” Sweat trails down my back at her interest in why I’m here, and for a second, I want to bolt, run into the woods, and escape the cage I’ve been stuck in since I was six years old.
Right on cue, my shoulders spasms and I brace myself.
“S-So I’ve h-heard. Jared t-told me about, um, a bunch of d-d-disappearing folks back in the day…” I motion my chin toward the lake.
“You mean in the lake?” she falters.
“Did you hear anything ab-bout it?” I ask, furrowing my brows. She takes a beat too long to answer. Longer than someone who knows nothing should.
“No. I mean, there’s rumors, but nothing I’m sure of. Besides, I wasn’t even born then.” Right. If I want answers, I’ll have to talk to the older folks in Lakeside. Alaska’s too young to know firsthand.
“What about y-y-you, quick walk before dinner?” I ask. Her shoulders relax as she glances up at me, her long lashes fluttering like butterfly wings.
“I like coming here. It’s…quiet.” Her eyes scan the trees, her voice wrapped in calm. In this light, she has freckles across her cheekbones. I want to run my fingers over them so badly.
“So not a fan of crowds then? How was the festival?” I ask. If she spent the whole day talking to people, then she must be drained.
“I’m…I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone. Otherwise, I’d be buried in my books all the time.” She looks at me for a second, her cobalt expression a mix of honesty and fear.
Breathtaking.
She’s breathtaking.
“That’s brave. W-wish I were more like you.”
“You are,” she offers with a subtle curve of her lips, “You’re a newcomer in Lakeside. That’s already outside your normal life.”
“It is. Yeah. Sort of. It’s less, uh…rushed.
People actually take time to t-talk to each other.
I guess there are some downsides too, but…
I get why people like towns like these.” I pause, surprised by how easy it is to talk to her.
“You know everyone, and they know you. In Minneapolis, I…c-c-couldn’t even tell you my neighbor’s name.
I mean, I can, ’cause I’m a cop and I need to know those things, but in g-general, people keep their distance.
” I cross my arms, spasms running through them, electric current cutting through my voice and meaning.
I wish I could turn it off, unplug it forever.
Alaska doesn’t seem bothered by it, though; she hasn’t even tried to finish one of my sentences, which I appreciate.
I glance back at her. “Is that why you s-stayed?”
“Um, yeah, yes,” she evades.
“Doesn’t sound very convincing.”
“No, it’s great. I’m good,” she says, the words sounding mechanical as she repeats, “I’m good.” Call it instinct or professional distortion, but I don’t buy it. A striding tone escapes from my watch. Five-thirty.
“I have to go back or I’ll be late for dinner.
C-c-can…can I walk you back?” It’s getting dark, and I’m not really into leaving girls alone in the woods to fend for themselves.
I’ve handled enough cases of female runners getting attacked in the streets, guess it’s not that different in the forest. You never know what lurks in the shadows.
Better safe than sorry. And, also, I’ll get more time in her company.
“Walk me back?” She frowns.
“It’s getting dark, and you’re alone in the forest.”
“Oh, um, it’s nice of you to offer, but I’m good. There’s no beast hiding in the shadows. It’s Lakeside, we don’t have those here,” she says, giving me a sweet smile. I scratch the back of my neck.
“S-sorry to impose, but I really don’t feel good about letting you out here alone in the d-dark….” Being a cop with sisters makes you protective to a fault. Even if I know it can be annoying, I really can’t leave her here alone.
She sighs. “You’re really not gonna give up, uh?” Her attention flicking away for a moment before meeting mine again. “Okay…but can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Can we walk back in silence? Like, um…no talking?” Anyone else might find the request odd, but I’m not bothered at all. On rough days, silence is my companion. My hiding place. As strange as it sounds, I find comfort in it, like it’s a language I wish I could speak with others.
“Sure,” I reply, falling in step behind her as we turn back.
The pathway is harder to navigate now that the sun has set, the dim light blurring the edges of the trail.
She moves with surprising ease until we reach the rock I had to jump over earlier.
She hesitates, lifting a leg to climb, but her shoe slips and she stumbles.
Instinct takes over. Before I even think, my arms are around her, one hand gripping her waist, the other steadying her hand.
Her whole body tenses like a block of ice.
The scent of her shampoo lingers faintly in the cool night air as I hold her. Apple pie. That’s what she smells like.
“Got you,” I murmur, more to myself than to her.
She doesn’t pull away immediately. For a moment, she stills and I wonder if I’ve crossed some invisible line.
Then she shifts abruptly, like I’ve burned her, turning back to the path like nothing happened, even as the memory of her touch still sears my palm.
We walk in silence back to the trailhead, the weight of it loud and heavy, a ton of bricks hanging above us.
Did I do something wrong? I didn’t want her to fall.
“You’re good?” I ask as we approach our cars.
She nods, fidgeting with her hands, looking down as she opens the door of her rusty red car with Hidden Treasures Bookshop written in round pink letters on the metal.
She doesn’t reply, so I turn back to my car, keys in hand.
Right before slipping out of sight, she calls for me.
“Jack?” Her voice is louder, hesitantly trying to reach an unnatural level for her.
I turn to face her. She’s still standing, one hand resting on the top of her door.
“Thank you,” she says and then disappears inside.
Something stirs in my chest as I get inside.
Saying she pokes my curiosity would be the understatement of the century.
Damn, dinner will be more interesting than I thought.