Chapter 43
REN
Idon’t know how Henrik’s always up so damned early. Without an alarm. He just rolls out of bed and is up before the sun.
But if I can lie here and look at Darby as the sun starts to glow on her skin, then I’ll be up at sunrise too. So help me, snow gods.
She’s in another of the big guy’s shirts. This one is just a plain cotton tee that’s like a dress on her. But it’s hotter than any silk lingerie I can imagine. I know what her skin tastes like, and my mouth waters for more.
Groaning softly, I close my eyes and very quietly roll away.
I carefully detangle myself from the sheets and head to the bathroom.
It doesn’t occur to me to knock. It’s my own damned house, for one thing, and another, Henrik was up at least an hour ago.
But he’s still in the bathroom, a towel around his waist, leaning over the sink as he trims his beard.
“Glad you’re finally up. I need help making sure the back is even.”
He mentioned wanting to clean up a little yesterday while we were pulling her car out, but Leland’s call put a halt to anything more than grabbing Darby’s stuff and heading back to her. “Let me shower first, or my sleepy ass might accidentally shave you bald.”
He grunts softly, which is Henrik for sure, whatever.
Long years of playing sports have taught me how to shower quickly, so he doesn’t have to wait too long.
He sits down on the padded bench so I can work my magic.
I used to do his trims all the time back in the day but there hasn’t been a reason for him to get spruced up in ages.
We’re meeting Darby’s parents today. It occurs to me that he might actually be a little nervous, though of course he hasn’t said a word. “What do you know about her family?”
“Nothing except she hasn’t seen them in years, and they’re leaving on a cruise next weekend. She wanted to see them before the holidays.”
“Does she have any siblings?”
“Not that I know of. She hasn’t mentioned anyone but a friend in Denver. I get the impression that she’s been pretty much on her own for years, despite marrying the asshole, so I’m guessing she’s the only child.”
“Makes sense in a way. That’s why she’s so independent. She’s had to do it all herself.”
“Not anymore.”
“Amen to that. I found a nice pet-friendly room on the Strip, and Sherri’ll have a rental car for us at the airport. What am I forgetting?”
“Dinner reservations somewhere, though I’m sure she’d like to take her parents out, and I don’t know where they live. Yet.”
“We’ll keep our eyes out for locations on the way in. How much do you want off the back?”
“Do a nice, tapered fade.”
“Gotcha. What are we wearing? Like casual or something fancy?”
“I’m wearing jeans and a button down that’s not flannel.” He laughs. “Fancy for me.”
He lets me work a few minutes in silence, and then I hand him a mirror so he can check the back.
“Looks good. Thanks, man. By the way…” He hesitates a moment, as if gathering his thoughts.
“Do you know where we might buy rings in Vegas? Not the cheap tourist crap but the real thing. I wanna do it right.”
We. He said we.
To cover up the emotion welling up inside me, I slap him on the back. “I’ve got this.”
“Now why would you need rings?” Darby drawls, making us both jump guiltily.
Barefoot, swimming in his shirt, her hair messed up. I’ve never seen anything sexier in my life. Especially the look in her eyes as she looks us both over. Hope the towel holds up, man. Because instant wood.
“Just because we’re going to Vegas doesn’t mean I’m planning to entrap either of you in one of those cheesy chapels.”
“Entrap us, babe. Though to be fair, I’d rather do something that feels more permanent. Vegas seems hasty and temporary.”
“You deserve something more sacred than a drive-through wedding.” Like the Ice. On a full-moon, cloudless night. Cold enough to make the night sparkle—but not where she’d be miserable. Despite being our dream, she doesn’t like the snow. But maybe we’re changing her mind. One song at a time.
Henrik nods. “Sacred. That’s a good word for what I’m thinking. But if you want a Vegas wedding, the only thing you need to decide is which name you’re taking.”
Her mouth sags open. “You’re serious? I was just teasing.”
“I’d never tease about something so fucking important.” He seizes her and plops her down on the vanity in between us. “Is it going to be Darby Zondag-Gustafson? Or Gustafson-Zondag?”
My throat aches but I prop my hip against the counter and flash her a smile. “Fuck the original Gustaf and all his sons. How about Darby S?ren-Zondag?”
The big guy rumbles in agreement. “That has a nice ring to it.”
“I didn’t say yes.”
“Because we haven’t asked. Yet.” He lightly tugs on a strand of her hair hanging over her shoulder. “But be thinking about it, babe. Because I will be asking you if—”
“When,” I break in.
He nods. “When you come home with us to Mooseville.”
Her eyes shine like blue velvet sprinkled with a billion stars. “What about Leland?”
“If he wants you to consider adding Daniels to your name, then he’ll ask you himself. But I honestly don’t think he’ll care one way or the other as long as you stay.”
She reaches up to stroke her fingers along the trimmed edge of his jawline. “I liked the wild lumberjack look but I have to admit, you clean up nicely, Mr. Zondag. What about you, though?”
“What about me?”
Her gaze slips over to me. “No offense, Ren, but I asked him before if he wanted something special, just for himself.”
“And what did I tell you then, babe?”
“You didn’t need anything special just for you.”
“Nope. Wrong answer. I said you are my something special. You being here is special. I’d like to be able to say Darby Zondag in some fashion, but whether you add S?ren, or Daniels, or, god forbid, Flanigan, to your name, you’re still my dream come true.”
“Same.” Risking the big guy’s wrath for violating his orders, I capture her hand and kiss the back of her knuckles. “Don’t take any part of my name at all. I don’t mind.”
“But what would you like? Honestly?”
I glance over at Henrik, and we say in unison, “S?ren-Zondag,” as if we rehearsed it. He grins, wrapping an arm around my neck and hauling me in close so we can both hug her at the same time. “We’ve always made one hell of a team.”
DARBY
It’s overwhelming how easy they make everything.
I don’t have to make any decisions. I don’t have to think about what I’m going to eat before we leave, because Henrik’s already serving me another cheesy omelet. Without peppers. I never said a word to him. He just noticed I’d picked them all out before.
I don’t have to plan the trip or hustle anyone out the door.
I don’t even have to carry my bag, because Ren and Henrik play-fight over who’s carrying what to a huge, white SUV parked in the front circle driveway.
Then Henrik gives up my suitcase—so he can sweep me up in his arms and carry me like I’m a delicate princess who can’t get her feet wet or cold in the snow.
Even though the drive is completely clear.
While Skadi runs laps around all of us, barking with excitement. She knows something big is up because I put her harness on.
Ren hops behind the wheel and we’re off to catch Leland’s plane, turning down a narrow blacktop road. I check my watch a little worried—it’s ten till ten, and he said ten. How far away…
But in a matter of minutes, Ren’s turning off onto a gravel side road lined with trees, which open to a wide, flat field. Several outbuildings are set at the tree line, and a small plane waits outside facing the open land.
Of course the largest building is painted with the words Mooseville Airfield. I catch Ren’s gaze in the rearview mirror and he smirks. “The only downside is it’s not directly attached to our properties. We bought it after the fact, and a hunter owns the wooded area between us.”
Henrik scowls. “I tried to buy him out, but he said no. I should’ve made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.” He waits for a few moments, drawing out the suspense. Letting me envision him trying to strong-arm some random hunter into selling his land. “I even baked him a cake.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You haven’t baked me a cake.”
“Give me time, babe. I’ve barely had a full weekend.”
My cheeks flush and they both roar with laughter. Yeah. I walked straight into that one.
“Mr. Rodgers did agree to let us know first when he’s ready to sell,” Ren adds. “The man’s at least seventy. Not sure how many more years he’s going to be hunting elk anyway.”
Again, Henrik picks me up straight out of the SUV and carries me to the plane.
I know as much about airplanes as I do hockey but it’s surprisingly roomy and looks high-tech with all the displays.
The seats are leather, and there’s even wood trim around the walls.
Though I’m a little confused when Henrik climbs into the back where Ren stows my suitcase.
It’s a tiny little seat. I’m not even sure he’ll fit…
But then Leland offers me a hand up to the middle passenger row and buckles Skadi’s harness into the other passenger seatbelt beside me. Now I understand. The big guy gave up his seat beside me so I can make sure my dog isn’t worried.
If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.
We all have headsets, and I can see between the two front seats where Leland and Ren sit with the controls.
In minutes, we’re rolling down a short, paved runway.
The guys chat easily about the plane—some Cessna turbo thingy— and wind speed and elevation but it’s all Greek to me.
Though it’s always sexy to hear and see a competent man doing his thing.
Leland’s in his natural environment, lifting us off into the air so smoothly Skadi doesn’t whine once.
I can’t believe he hasn’t been a pilot his entire life.