Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
QUINN
I thought setting up in a cushy window seat would be a great place to get some work done.
Unfortunately, the view outside is utterly distracting.
Through the glass, I have a clear view of the Nords’ backyard, and currently, there is a certain Ice Elemental down there who has decided to not only chop wood, but to remove his shirt for the process.
Heat thrums in my veins, warning me that I should relocate.
If only my eyes would detach from the glorious view.
“That boy just can’t stop.” The gruff voice of August’s father sucker-punches my lust, as does the cooling presence of his power as he comes to stand next to me to peer out at his son.
“Does wood really need to be chopped in the summer?” Growing up in Arizona, I have absolutely no frame of reference.
“You do the work when the weather is good so you’re ready for the cold season. Winter comes fast here.”
Not fast enough for my taste. I’ve never seen snow other than in movies.
I’m bummed that I came to normally one of the coldest places in the United States, and I’m still going to leave without even getting a glimpse.
I had this ridiculous fantasy of jumping into a giant pile of it to make a snow angel, and then when August came over to help me up, I’d tug him down with me, and we’d fool around, surrounded by the perfect fire-power buffer.
Like an R-rated Hallmark movie.
Not a mental image that needs to be shared with his father.
“That makes sense. Of course, in Phoenix, most people think our best weather is in December.”
Mr. Nord grins at me over the lip of his steaming cup of tea.
We all got back to their house an hour ago.
I can’t believe they haven’t collapsed into bed, needing a nap.
Mornings at a bakery are wild. Once customers started coming in, I tucked myself into a back corner, glancing up from my laptop periodically to ogle August as he worked the register and handed out pastries.
I can’t decide if I like baker August or ice cream–maker August better.
Probably the second because that means he’s in Phoenix.
“We’ll have to make a visit once Samantha is better. We’ve missed him something fierce. It’s good to have him back home even if it’s only for a short time.”
Am I a horrible person for wanting it to be a super-short time?
Yes. Yes, I am.
I’m saved from having to answer when August walks into the room, shirt back in place, regretfully.
He grins at the two of us.
Mr. Nord lifts his mug in a silent toast. “Love it when my chores get done for me.”
“Maybe I should back off. Don’t want you to get lazy.”
August settles his hands on my shoulders, massaging a kink I didn’t realize had formed in my neck. Guess that’s what happens when I type on my laptop for hours straight.
“Please. I’m weak and old. I need my strong, strapping son to take care of me.” The man pretends to whimper, which is hilarious, paired with his muscular build and towering form.
I doubt Mr. Nord needs any help with physical tasks. My bet is that the problem arises from the amount of things needing to be done both around the house and at the bakery. That large load is what has August chipping in.
The son rolls his eyes before smiling down at me.
“Let’s go for a drive.”
Hmm, alone time with my guy? Sounds good to me.
“Where?”
His grin betrays his excitement. “You’ll see.”
Out in the driveway, I’m about to climb into the passenger seat when August stops me, his cool hand on my wrist.
“How would you feel about wearing this?” He holds out a black strip of fabric and gestures toward my eyes.
“A blindfold? Kinky. Are you taking me to your secret Alaskan sex dungeon?”
Icy air hits my skin, and I watch in fascination as August’s fingers tighten on the cloth, little spirals of frost swirling over the fabric.
“You like that idea?” My smirk is wicked, and I know it.
Little does he know, it wouldn’t be my first time at a sex dungeon.
Of course, that was on a trip to visit Harley at work.
“Yeah, Quinn.” He leans over to press an open-mouthed kiss on the side of my neck. “I do.”
Shivers cascade through me, and I think I might pass out from the pleasure of his breath against my skin.
“But it’ll have to wait for another time,” August says as he straightens with an all-too-satisfied smile. “Today’s escapades are G-rated.”
“Prude,” I mutter.
He snorts as he ties the blindfold on. My vision effectively cut off, I need his help maneuvering myself into the car.
At first, the experience is strange. All my control of the situation is gone. The vehicle moves forward, and I’m at a loss. But after a few minutes of fighting off dizziness, I recline the seat and lie back, giving myself up to the Ice Elemental’s surprise.
While on the road, August regales me with stories of bakery mishaps and wacky local customers, some of them reality show celebrities.
Apparently, you can’t throw a day-old pastry in Anchorage without hitting someone who’s appeared on a reality TV show.
The whole world wants to know how Alaskans live.
Or at least a romanticized version of it.
But other than putting more thought and effort into how to stay warm for the upcoming season change, I wouldn’t say the Nords’ life is too different from my family’s.
No living in a cabin without running water.
No wrestling wild animals for food.
Maybe I watched too many reality shows too …
“Okay, my patient Pyro.” August’s grin is evident in his voice, and I love that I know how he’ll look just from the way he sounds. Gravel crunches under tires as the car slows to a stop. “We’re here.”
“Do I take this off now?” My fingers fiddle with the knot at the back of my head.
“Just a second. Let’s get you out of the truck first.”
His door slams closed a moment before mine is pulled open. I slide from my seat, running my hands over his chest, as if I need the wall of him to steady me. Maybe I do; maybe I don’t. Tendrils of heat unravel in my veins at the soft texture of cotton over firm stomach.
“Quinn.” August huffs my name, and the next second, there’s the hard metal of the truck against my back and August’s mouth devouring mine.
I moan, silently hoping we’re not parked in front of a preschool or something.
The strands of his hair slide, smooth as silk, through my fingers as I reach up to hold his face to mine. Points of pressure dig into my ass as August boosts me higher, making our make-out session easier.
He smells of sweat and the pine wood he was chopping earlier. I miss the sweetness of melted ice cream on his lips but still find myself drunk on the taste of him. I suck on his tongue, reveling in the way his hips jerk with each pull.
Heat pulses, smoldering coals searching for tinder to consume.
Without warning, August pulls back.
“G-rated,” he pants as he scolds me, and I can’t stifle a disappointed moan.
The bastard chuckles, his fingers trailing over my cheeks.
Then the world explodes into view.
“Gah! The light!”
He took off the blindfold without warning, and now the sun attempts to fry my corneas.
“Shit, sorry. I should’ve said.” August presses my face against his chest, using his body to block the light.
After blinking for a minute or so, I can finally peer around me without flinching. We’re parked on the bank of what looks to be a lake. We’re not the only people here, other cars having pulled up alongside the water.
I wonder if any of them enjoyed the PG-13 show.
Thoughts of strangers watching me get down with my man evaporate as I pull away from August to stare out over the lake. The sight hits me hard, and before I make the decision, I’m jogging down to the water’s edge for a better view of the opposite bank.
A gorgeous spill of white engulfs the scenery.
“A glacier.” August steps up against my back, wrapping me in his arms. “You wanted some snow. I know it’s not falling from the sky, but—”
“This is perfect.” My fingers clasp his forearm, where it crosses my chest. Where our skin touches, a chill creeps over me. The sensation is lovely, allowing me to believe I’m across the large expanse of water and digging my hands into the white mass.
August knows how to make my dreams a reality.
I hope this trip home hasn’t changed what his dreams are.
“It looks so out of place though, like it hasn’t gotten the memo that it’s summer.” The thought is out before I realize how forlorn my tone is.
August chuckles, his humor rumbling through me where we’re pressed together. “You’re saying you want it to melt?”
“No! Of course not. I just … want it to feel like it belongs.”
Is this what being in Phoenix is like for August? A giant, gorgeous, frozen thing, surrounded by perpetual summer? Has the heat started to wear on him? Slowly chipping away at his comfort like he’s another casualty of global warming?
“It’s beautiful here,” I murmur, pushing down my depressing thoughts. Then I realize that I made one more argument for him to stay.
Goddess-damn it, do I have to shoot myself in my own foot?
“It is. I’m not sure I always appreciated it when I was growing up.” August sighs and rests his chin on the top of my head. “Sometimes, you have to leave a place for a little while to see all the amazing parts when you return.”
Something like a crack echoes in my ears. For a moment, I’m worried a chunk of the glacier has broken off and toppled into the water.
But then I realize I imagined the shattering.
My mind’s way of pairing a noise with the pain in my heart.