Chapter 9 Easton
EASTON
Get it together, Easton.
It’s not like you’ve never seen a beautiful woman in next-to-see-through pajamas before. You’re Easton fucking Voss. This isn’t your first rodeo.
Play. It. Cool.
“Hi.”
Shit. There she is in all her tiny and pretty blonde glory. There’s no way I’ll be keeping it cool.
“Nice weather out.” Such a dweeb. Nice weather? What are we, meteorologists studying the national park together?
Collie’s giggle does nothing to comfort me. If anything, it only makes me more aware of her every move. Like how she’s currently standing at the hatch of our camper, looking like she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.
Where does she sleep? Where do I sleep? Most importantly, how do we sleep? There’s very little space, and either we get over the awkwardness and make it work or end up with kinks in our necks and grouchy attitudes for the two weeks we’re here.
Well, guess I’ll be living with a sore—
“Scooch over,” she tells me, unfazed. “Time to get real acquainted, Voss.”
Or maybe I’m the only one feeling awkward about this.
Collie leaves no room for argument, directing me to shift to my side and settle under the blankets, while she lifts herself into the camper.
I changed into a pair of sweats and a long-sleeve thermal earlier while Collie showered at the communal bathrooms. At first, I changed into jeans and boots after convincing myself I needed to show Collie I’m not as disastrous as I seemed in the suit, then quickly realized sleeping in jeans was not a sound choice.
She must think I’m insane for changing again. I just wanted her to feel comfortable enough to get settled, and it seemed like the best time to get myself ready for bed.
And boy did she get settled. By the looks of it, Collie packed for a hotel climate with the ability to adjust the temperature inside. That’s not an option out here. It’s November and the start of winter in Wyoming. Not exactly the coldest it gets, but still enough to need layers for warmth.
Without thick clothing, fires and body heat are the only options.
Fuckkkk.
Her long-sleeved sleep set is white with tiny pink hearts all over and buttons at the chest.
Look away. Now is not the time to notice the things this woman has that I haven’t seen or felt in longer than I’m proud of.
I guarantee I’d be nothing but a laughingstock if she knew my life story. I’d be known as the pathetic loser who lost his brother and dedicated his life to living someone else’s happiness.
For two years, I stared at one woman, and one woman only, for the sake of my brother. For the sake of the promise I made to him.
Now, that woman is no longer in the picture, and it’s as if my dick just woke the fuck up. I shake my head, dodging my thoughts, because no. Everything is in shambles. I can’t be tempted to test the waters. Not when I betrayed my brother and the promise I made to him.
I deserve to hate myself for a while, not wonder what the wild side is like.
And fuck. I can tell Collie Meadows would be a different shade of wild. Possibly a wild I’d never recover from if I let her sink her pretty claws into me.
“You good with that side?” I ask her.
“Yep.” It’s when Collie settles beside me that I smell it. Smell her.
Cotton candy.
She would smell like fucking sugar. Sweet and fruity.
“I can’t get over this place. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. When I walked the freaking trek to the shower earlier—which, what a hike, if I might add—I saw the biggest deer. The cutest doe eyes and all. It had to have been the size of a horse.”
I chuckle, turning to my side while she gets comfortable. “You’ll see a lot of those out here. But don’t let the wildlife scare you. There’s a shit ton of beauty to see. If you stay calm, the animals will respect you.”
Collie listens kindly. “You sound like a Disney princess. Please don’t sing,” she teases before continuing, “I’m guessing you’ve been here before?”
“Actually, no. Always wanted to. That’s partially why I’m here. It’s kinda similar to back home, except for the deep forests. We have some of that too, but it’s different. Lots of fishing, hiking, and farmland. Enough to keep busy. It’s my favorite way of life.”
“And where’s home for you?”
“Salt Hollow, Alaska. Small town off the coast of Sitka.”
She smiles. “Never heard of it. But I have heard Alaska is really beautiful. I’d like to go there someday.”
Despite how shitty I feel on the inside, it’s nice to talk to someone. Especially someone who isn’t my family. Someone who doesn’t know me, possibly about my brother’s death, and all the events that followed.
There’s no judgment between us as strangers.
The sun has since set, making the stars in the sky feel zoomed in and brighter. The only light in the camper comes from the stars shining through the sunroof and the illumination of the string lights.
It’s tranquil. Relaxing.
“Do you travel for work a lot? Or was this a one-time trip?” I ask casually, hoping I don’t touch a nerve. I know today has probably felt painfully long for her.
God, has it really only been a day?
Yesterday was supposed to be my wedding day. A sunrise wedding with close friends and family at the top of Nashville’s most extravagant vineyard. It’s depressing, and I’m not sure I’ve really had a free second to process it.
I should really get some sleep, but I’m enjoying talking to Collie more.
“You mean do I always kill myself for someone else’s reward? Well, yes. Yes I do.” She rolls her eyes and smirks. “Kidding. Work sends me off and on. But most of my travels are for fun. Traveling is a high I’ll never get enough of.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing, you know? ”
“Maybe. I still have a lot to figure out, I guess. All I know is that it’s nice to have the time to do it.”
“Fuck. Don’t tell me I’m gonna wake up in the middle of the night to you singing ‘Kumbaya’ and meditating around the camper? Channeling your inner Zen for some life direction?” I wink and earn myself a shove to the shoulder.
“Okay, dickhead. I might do that now—just for you.”
She’s playful. It’s nice. Kinda forgot what it feels like to laugh because I actually wanted to. Not because someone important was watching and needed to be convinced.
“What did you do for work?” I ask.
“I’m a fitness instructor. I run—I mean ran—a studio back home, teaching close to ten classes a week. I was in Nashville for a conference with my company. We essentially train other trainers how to be better trainers. If that makes any sense.”
“Sounds like a rewarding job.”
I can tell it’s something Collie really enjoys by the way her eyes light up when talking about it. Must be a shitty feeling knowing that’s gone now.
“Yeah,” she sighs. “It was. But there will always be other jobs, ya know? My parents always told my sister and me growing up that everyone is replaceable. I realize now how true that is.”
She’s right. It doesn’t matter how killer you are at your job—business is business. They will always find someone to replace you, and before you know it, you’re forgotten.
Business doesn’t have feelings.
“I think that’s pretty good advice,” I tell her. “You seem to be a people person. Doubt you’ll have any issues finding a new one.”
“Maybe. That’s if I stay there. Everything is a little up in the air for me right now.”
No idea what she means by that, but I have a feeling there’s a story behind it.
“So, what do you do? Please don’t tell me you’re an accountant or something.” Collie laughs, and I can’t help it; I throw my head back, a full chuckle escaping me.
“Fuck no. You’ll never catch me behind a keyboard. I’m a lineman.”
“Ooooo, football. Sexy.” Her smile spreads wide, bright white teeth on display.
“Not quite. Although now my job doesn’t seem as badass as I thought.” My laughter builds. “I’m a power lineman. I build power lines. Chase storms. Hurricanes. Snowstorms. The first responders no one recognizes.”
I laugh about it, but it doesn’t make it any less true.
Firefighters, doctors, nurses, policemen—they all get recognized in times of need.
Rightfully so. But no one ever talks about the lineman who chase hurricanes and risk their safety so everyone else can have air conditioning to come home to and their lights turned on.
It’s even worse when our own families are without power, and we get nothing but unappreciative commentary from customers about how we aren’t working fast enough.
“Holy mama.” Collie’s eyes go wide. “I knew the work boots meant something hot. I’d take a blue-collar man over a football player any day.
And that’s definitely me hitting on you.
” She blows me a kiss, and something in my chest fucking tingles.
“Seems like a pretty intimidating job. Dangerous, right?”
If I were a man who blushed, I’d be fighting to hold it in right now.
But I’m not. “I wouldn’t exactly call it easy.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had a flash blow-up in my face from two phases crossing.
Or had to climb up an eighty-foot utility pole with my hooks and bucksqueeze the only things supporting me.
Essentially, the only thing saving my life while working on an energized conductor is a pair of rubber gloves.
But I love what I do. It’s a rush unlike anything I’ve ever felt. ”
At this point in my life, being at the top of the pole is about the only thing that brings me any kind of happiness.
Getting to witness people around you going about their day, taking in the views of Alaska, and all the landscapes I’m guilty of not appreciating the way I should.
Because whether I’m in my bucket or with my legs wrapped around a pole, it’s just me up there.
The only time I get to reflect and dream. Odd as fuck to think I’m one step closer to that dream now. If only I could stop hating on myself to actually figure things out and enjoy it.
“Wow. I have no idea what any of those big words you just said are, but I’m amazed by you, Easton Voss. You’re officially a certified badass. Hard hat and all.”
I’m smiling like an adolescent boy. “Well, if Collie Meadows says it, then it must be true.”
“You got that right.” She grins. “Sooo, what’s the plan for tomorrow? I’m letting you be the guide, Ranger.”
“Oh, fuck no. Don’t give me some sour nickname like Dirty Dan.”
Collie’s smile lifts wider, and I swear to the wildlife around us, it lights a fire inside of me. “But Dirty Dan is the cutest! You can tell he takes his job very seriously,” she counters.
“The guy reeks of bug repellent. And Jesus, Collie, there’s a reason his name is Dirty Dan. He looks like he could cut barbed wire with his teeth.”
I hear the air escape from her lungs. “Oh my god. I wonder if people really do that.”
“Wasn’t expecting him to be our welcoming crew, but it is what it is.” I chuckle. “I was thinking we would go into town tomorrow and grab some nonperishable stuff to keep in the camper. Whatever you might need.”
“I can always get down with some snacks.”
“I’ll do my best to keep you fed.” I circle my gaze around the van, noticing a stillness outside. It’s getting late. “We should probably get some sleep.”
I slide the cover over the sunroof, enveloping us in the darkness of the camper. I left a pillow between Collie and me, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable, but she’s already fading.
“Okay.”
I know we’re strangers, and this could be much worse than it is. I’m not complaining in any way, but I want to make sure she knows she can trust me.
“Hey, Collie?”
“Yeah?” Her eyes fall shut, and I’m amazed at her ability to already fall fast asleep.
“You’re safe with me,” I whisper hoarsely. “I know we don’t know each other, but while we’re here together, I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. You have my word. I guess I just wanted you to know that.”
“Good.” Her voice filters through the camper almost unintelligibly. “Keep that up, Ranger Voss. Sleep tight. Don’t let the moose come out to bite.”