Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
While we wait for our pizzas and with my arm slung over her shoulder, Linnea and I browse the mural of customer photos, each of them wearing Mountain Pie tees or hoodies in exotic places.
There’s a woman riding an elephant. A kid holding a cup of gelato in a cobblestone square.
Two middle-aged ladies hiking in Machu Picchu.
I can’t help wondering what a picture of me and Linnea would look like up here.
Are we white water rafting? Sailing on a sparkling ocean? Kissing beneath the northern lights?
It’s a better place for my thoughts than worrying about what I need to say to her. She’s finally letting me in, and I’m not ready to start making demands. Not yet.
I meant what I said earlier, but I don’t just want to take my time with her, I want that time to last longer than tonight.
But how can I make that wish come true if she won’t tell her dad about us?
Maybe it wouldn’t be so urgent if he lived far away, but he’s my boss, and I’m currently spending a good chunk of my waking hours in his company.
The clerk calls our number, breaking me from my thoughts. I pick up the pizzas, and we walk to my truck. Once Linnea’s settled on the passenger seat with the pizzas on her lap, I can’t help leaning in for just one kiss.
Her lashes flutter closed and the way her plush mouth embraces mine is enough to make me want to drive her straight back to my bunkhouse and keep her there.
She breaks away, laughing. “If you don’t get going I cannot be responsible for the amount of pizza I’m going to consume before we get there.”
I press a kiss to her temple and close her safely inside the cab.
Once I’m driving, I offer her my hand. To my delight, she takes it, kicking off another wave of the staticky lightness vibrating under my skin at her touch.
I’m rounding the second curve up the mountain road when we come to a line of idling cars and a state trooper’s SUV blocking the road.
“Uh oh,” Linnea says with a frown.
My phone chimes from the console, and the Bluetooth picks it up. It’s Bear.
“Hey, man,” I say, spotting his truck in the line of cars ahead of us.
“Avalanche is blocking the road ahead. They’re saying it’s gonna be at least a half hour.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“Don’t think so.”
I’m glad we took time to pick up pizza and drinks. What if we’d been in the avalanche’s path? “Okay. Why don’t I deliver some of this pizza so you two don’t starve.”
Linnea grins next to me. I steal a glance at her perfect profile in the dash lights.
“I’ll trade you for drinks.”
I agree and we hang up. Meanwhile Linnea is already working on swapping one half of the pepperoni and olive for a half of the veggie so each box has variety. “That’s some quick thinking.”
She whips out a small pocketknife to cut the pepperoni one where it’s hung up near the crust and arches an eyebrow. “Pretty and smart, remember?”
“And self-sufficient,” I say with an appraising nod at her knife. Why does her having a cute little folding knife handy make me want to kiss her?
So I do, and she laughs. How can I resist? Her lips embrace mine and she does that sexy tug on my lower one, keeping me pinned in place for a fraction of a second. It makes me not one bit mad about this delay we’ll be experiencing. Anything to spend more time with her.
“Be right back.” I grab a pizza box and a handful of napkins and jump down.
A brisk wind has kicked up, making the swirling snowflakes sting my face.
I wrap my coat tighter with my free hand and squint into the darkness, passing idling cars until Bear materializes carrying a paper bag and blinking the snowflakes from his dark lashes.
He gives me a hearty chuckle as we exchange goods. “Bon appétit!”
I bump his fist then retrace my footsteps through the snow.
Back in the cab, Linnea has turned off the engine and unfolded the cheap Slumberjack sleeping bag I keep rolled up in the back for emergencies. “Okay if we use this?”
“That’s why I keep it handy.” If only my truck didn’t have a center console so I could pull her closer—like into my lap. If this road closure lasts long enough, I may have to get creative.
After the sleeping bag is unzipped and draped over us, Linnea sets the pizza box on the console while I pull out a root beer and a pilsner.
She reaches for the root beer, so I crack the cap and hand it to her, then trade the pilsner for the other root beer in the bag.
“That’s a sobriety coin on your keychain, isn’t it?” she asks.
Though I’ve rehearsed this conversation a hundred times, there’s always an awkward pause before I can force out the words.
I crack open the cap of my root beer. “Yeah. Two years, two months.” That I don’t add the days and hours is a sign of growth, right?
I’ll have to share that with Dane next time we talk.
Linnea smiles, and even in the dim light coming from the emergency crew’s vehicles and the headlights from the other cars, it’s easy to read the genuine kindness behind it.
I allow myself to drink in that kindness, but it’s big, and my exhale comes out a little shaky.
“My brother has struggled with addiction.” She opens the pizza box and lifts a slice of the veggie. “After our mom left, he kinda spiraled, and it was hard. I went from worrying I was going to lose him to being so pissed at him when he would let me down.”
“Dealing with an addict is tough,” I say with a shy smile. “Ask me how I know.”
To my delight, she smiles back, brighter this time. “Jesse would probably say the same thing. He’s been sober since he found out he was going to be a dad.”
“That’s a great reason.” I grab a piece of the pepperoni and olive and bite into the corner. The tangy sauce and gooey cheese are the perfect combination with the spicy pepperoni and the sweet crust.
She takes a small bite of her piece. “He’s a really great dad. His girlfriend has been clean for over a year, and they’re seriously adorable together. There’s so much mutual respect, you know? They really help each other.”
I sip my root beer. “Community is important. Having a person who gets you can truly save your life.”
Her eyes meet mine. “Who is your person?”
“My sponsor Dane is one. Bear and my therapist are two more.”
“You have a therapist?”
I laugh. “Yep. Detox and a few months of rehab can only take you so far. I knew I needed to make some big changes to stay sober, and I couldn’t do them without someone skilled in my corner.”
She nods, her expression even more thoughtful now. “Was it hard to move here?” She takes another bite, then licks up a strand of melted cheese. Seeing her little tongue in action makes my dick twitch.
I shift in my bucket seat. “Uh, define hard.”
“You have to find a whole new community. I can see that being, well…” She licks her lips, her eyes thoughtful. “Lonely? And challenging.”
“One of the best things about AA is how easy they make it. You can visit any city and find a meeting happening, and you’re instantly welcomed.
” My promise to attend tomorrow’s meeting at the Methodist church flickers in the back of my mind, but I stuff it back.
That’s tomorrow’s problem. I fold my piece in half and take a huge bite.
Too bad we only got two pizzas because this one’s going to be gone soon.
“Is that why you moved home?” I ask her. “Because you missed your family and friends?”
She finishes chewing, her gaze shifting to the side, like she’s thinking how to answer. “I thought taking the job with Idaho Fish and Wildlife was a good step. It being located in Finn River was definitely a bonus.”
Finally, we’re back to where we left off on Monday morning. “What do you mean by a good step?” I scoop up another piece of pizza.
She sips from her root beer. “I can’t stay in the field forever.”
“Why not?”
Her lips twitch and her eyes turn thoughtful. “Because fieldwork doesn’t feel important enough.”
“Says who?”
She sets her root beer back in the console. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the work, being outside, the research and feeling useful, and...” She cringes. “…the solitude too.”
“There’s nothing wrong with liking any of those things.”
She reaches for a new piece of pizza and plucks a chunk of green pepper from the top.
“Being a field grunt doesn’t drive change.
Not really. For a time, it was what I needed.
It helped me get over a breakup and kind of find myself again.
” She squeezes the chunk of green pepper between her front teeth, then chews it.
“My sister is a shrink. And my dad was really worried. Has that ever happened to you? Like you love your family and you know they mean well but you just need to stand on your own?”
“Absolutely.”
She heaves a sigh and plucks an olive, then chews it slowly. “I needed their help at first, but then I couldn’t take their hovering.”
“Sounds like you created some healthy boundaries for yourself.”
She leans back and laughs. “Ohmigawwwd,” she groans. “You sound like Sofie.”
My chest pinches. “Sounds like she cares.” Not everyone has that.
Linnea nibbles on the corner of her piece. “She does. And I love her for it. My dad too. I thought after the breakup that he’d be upset with me. I was…afraid he’d see me differently. Think less of me because I let it happen.”
“First, that’s not being a supportive parent, and your dad might be grumpy, but I can’t see him judging his daughter. And second…” I wait until her gaze lifts to mine again. “…will you tell me why this ex of yours made you feel this way?”
She gives a quick shrug, but her shoulders look stiff, like I’ve made her uncomfortable. Shit. I should have eased into that one better.
“Nathan was…controlling. And just…wasn’t good for me.”
I’m certain there’s more, but this vague reply is telling me to tread lightly. “I’m sorry.”
“If you’re not falling, you’re not learning, right?” Her sudden cheerful tone takes me by surprise.
“You lost me.”