4. Dove
4
DOVE
I once saw an ice shelf collapse. Our team had been monitoring it for weeks. We’d recorded the warning signs—widening cracks, subtle shifts. What we couldn’t predict was how fast it would go. In hours, a massive section of ancient ice crumbled into the sea. The sound thundered across the bay—deep, hollow booms that vibrated through my chest. The ice didn’t just break. It shattered. By nightfall, a landscape unchanged for centuries vanished.
Now I’ve become the disaster I once observed.
“I see the rescue team,” Ellie says, looking away from the tent we’re dismantling to point into the distance.
I follow her gaze. Two snowmobiles race across the white expanse, kicking up trails of powder behind them. A hard pang of disappointment hits me, even though it’s idiotic to wish we were still stranded in a life-threatening situation.
I turn back to Ellie. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold, lips turned up in a smile that feels like it’s meant for me alone. Irrepressible desire floods through me. My mind replays the feel of her under my fingers mere hours ago, warm and wet against my skin.
Christ. I can barely focus.
We finish packing just as the snowmobiles pull up. Colton sits on the first one, a smug expression on his face like he’s some kind of hero.
“Need a lift?” he asks with a self-satisfied smirk that makes me want to bury his face in the snow.
“Just get us back to base,” I grunt.
I watch as Ellie climbs onto the back of Colton’s snowmobile, her arms wrapping around his waist for stability. My jaw clenches at the sight, even as I’m telling myself to be reasonable. What do I expect, that she’d ride without holding on and go flying off at the first bump? I get on the second snowmobile behind Mills, and we’re off, racing back to the station across the vast expanse of white.
Soon the snowmobiles pull up to the station. The bright orange complex stands out against the pristine snow. I watch as Ellie slides off Colton’s snowmobile, her cheeks even redder now from the cold wind.
The interior warmth of the station envelops us when we step inside. After hours in the Antarctic cold, the heated air almost feels like too much. I unzip my parka and hang it on one of the hooks by the door. Beside me, Ellie unwraps her scarf and carefully sheds her outer layers. I study her, searching for signs that the brutal cold affected her more than she’s letting on.
Before I can say anything, Colton pushes into our space, slumping his weight against the wall. “So did you manage to get some good wildlife shots before the blizzard hit?”
Ellie nods as she rubs her chilled hands together. “I got some decent ones.”
“Yeah? I’d love to see ’em.”
I place my hand on Ellie’s arm, steering her toward the corridor. “We need to check in with Commander Barrett.”
Colton smirks. “Always the rule-follower, aren’t you, Callahan?”
I ignore him, leading Ellie down the corridor, our footsteps quickly falling into sync. The irritation I feel toward Colton fades as I look over at Ellie.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, carefully studying her face.
“Much better now that I’m not worried about freezing to death.” She smiles at me, then her expression shifts to something more meaningful. “Seriously, I’m grateful I didn’t have to ride out that blizzard alone. I would have been terrified.”
A million fucking emotions swirl inside me that I can barely endure. You have no idea how changed of a man I am, Ellie. You have no idea the desire raging inside me. I open my mouth to respond, but Commander Barrett’s voice booms down the hallway.
“Callahan! Ms. Sheridan!” He strides toward us, relief washing over his face. “Thank God you’re both back safely.” He reaches us, looking us both over. “How are you two holding up?”
“We’re fine, Commander,” I say.
“Yeah, I don’t know how, but we are,” Ellie adds.
Barrett nods. “I’m deeply relieved to hear that. Now that you’re back, Ms. Sheridan, I wanted to let you know about your departure. The transport ship has encountered rough seas near the coast. They’ve had to delay their approach by a few days.”
Ellie takes a second to take in the news. “Oh. I see.”
“We have an extra room you can bunk in until then,” Barrett continues. “Callahan can show you to it. Please don’t hesitate to let us know if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Commander. I appreciate it.”
Barrett claps me on the shoulder. “Good work out there, Callahan. Thanks for looking after our guest.”
I nod stiffly, heat crawling up my neck. If Barrett knew exactly how I looked after Ellie, I doubt he’d be thanking me.
I show Ellie to the visitor quarters in the south wing of the station. The room is small and sparse—a narrow bed with standard-issue blankets, a metal desk with a single chair, and a tiny closet. The only brightness comes from a small window that lets in light from outside.
“Sorry it’s not more comfortable,” I say as she takes in the space. “Decor isn’t exactly a priority here.”
Ellie laughs, the sound warming the sterile room. “Are you kidding? I spent the last two weeks in a tent with a tiny heater. This is luxury.”
She walks to the window, peering out at the view. I watch her, swallowing hard as I take in how effortlessly stunning she is.
“The mess hall is at the end of the main corridor,” I say. “Dinner’s at six, but there’s always coffee and snacks if you need something before then. There’s a communal bathroom two doors down, a small gym, and a rec room with some books and games if you get bored. We also do movie nights a few times a week. There's one tonight, if you want to come.”
She turns from the window, smiling. “Movie nights, huh? With amenities like that, I might stay longer than I need to.”
Something tugs roughly inside me at her words. I don’t want her to leave. Out there in the blizzard, something happened between us that went beyond the physical. Once we stopped fighting each other, we stumbled into a genuine connection—and that isn’t something I want to let go of so easily. Not when it’s the first and only time I’ve experienced it.
But the words stick in my throat. I've never been good at this—talking about feelings, saying what matters. Scientific precision is far easier than emotional honesty.
She watches me, waiting. Her eyes search my face.
“I’ll let you get settled,” I say, retreating to the door. “If you need anything, I’ll be in the east lab.”
I leave before I can make things worse, striding quickly back to my lab. The door hisses shut behind me, and I drop heavily into my chair. The ice core samples I was working on this morning sit exactly as I left them, waiting for analysis.
I stare at them, not seeing them at all, but instead lost in the memory of Ellie’s face as she recited that poem from memory. God, she was so damn beautiful. And then when she looked at me with that teasing in her eyes and asked if I liked her yet, and when she said maybe we should kiss a little , and when she pushed her hips hard against my hand, moaning, her wet heat coating my fingers?—
Fuck. Fuck. I drag a hand over my jaw, the stubble rough against my palm.
What the hell am I doing? She’s leaving soon. Going back to her real life, to assignments that will take her all around the world.
And I’m stuck here, exactly where I’ve chosen to be.
I force my attention onto the ice cores, samples that contain hundreds of years of climate data. Data that requires precision, focus, and objectivity—all things I’m currently incapable of providing.
With a groan, I drop my head into my hands. One fucking blizzard, and I’m a ruined man.
I trudge through the next several hours, each minute a battle. The data analysis I manage is rudimentary—work I could normally complete without breaking a sweat. But my focus is nonexistent. Every time I try to concentrate, Ellie claims my thoughts.
What is she doing now? Resting? Showering? Going through her photographs? I keep seeing those images from her tablet—the way she captured Antarctica with a tenderness I never expected. Then my mind drifts back to the tent. Her body pressed against mine. The sounds she made. The heat between us while the storm howled outside.
I press my palms hard against my eyes. Fuck. I’m a published researcher with years of fieldwork experience, not some distracted grad student who can’t control his thoughts.
When I can’t focus for one more minute, I set aside my work and head to the mess hall early.
The room is mostly empty. Just a couple of researchers talking quietly in the corner. I grab a tray and help myself to what’s offered—pasta, vegetables, a roll from yesterday. Standard Antarctic fare, designed to fuel bodies in extreme cold.
I take my usual seat by the window. The food sits untouched in front of me. There’s nothing wrong with it. I just have no interest in eating. I push the pasta around with my fork, my attention fixed on the doorway, waiting for her to appear.
Ellie’s laughter reaches me before I see her. The sound makes my pulse surge. She enters with Jody, our environmental systems engineer.
“And even after all of that, they still try,” Jody is saying.
“They always think they can get away with it, don’t they?” Ellie responds, laughing.
Then Ellie spots me. Her face brightens, and she gives me a little wave, sending warmth flooding through my chest. I lift my hand in response and find my appetite returning.
I watch as they move through the serving line together, loading their trays. Meanwhile, the rest of the crew filters in for dinner—scientists discussing readings, others talking about downtime activities, research teams arriving in groups. The room fills with voices and movement.
Ellie and Jody head in my direction. My heartbeat pounds with every step Ellie takes. Fuck. I’m practically unraveling just being around her.
“Mind if we join you?” Ellie asks, already sliding into the seat.
I clear my throat. “It’s all yours.”
Ellie takes her first bite of pasta and moans with pleasure. “Oh my god. I don’t know if it’s just that I haven’t had a real hot meal in two weeks, but this pasta tastes amazing.”
Jody laughs. “It’s not just you. We’ve got a solid crew in the kitchen.”
“What’s the food situation like here?” Ellie asks, digging in for another forkful. “I mean, logistically speaking?”
“We get regular deliveries during the summer,” Jody explains. “The rest of the year, it’s mostly frozen, canned, and dried foods. It can get a bit repetitive sometimes, but honestly, it’s way better than I thought it’d be before I got here. Though I’d kill for some fresh sushi now and then.”
Ellie laughs, and then looks at me with curiosity. “What about you, Dove? What do you miss eating?”
There are too many things to name. “Freshly grilled steaks. Strawberries. Avocados.”
Ellie smiles. “Well, if you ever find yourself in Portland, look me up. I make a killer guacamole.”
Her invitation hits me in two opposing waves. The thought of seeing her again somewhere else, somewhere with green trees and city streets, sends a charge through my body. But her words are also a reminder that she’s going to be gone soon.
I should be smart about this. I should forget what happened in the tent. Forget how she felt under my hands. Scrub all of it from my mind.
But I can’t bring myself to forget a single second of our time together.
“You coming to movie night after dinner?” I ask Ellie.
Her smile turns playful. “Depends. What’s playing?”
“Some action movie from the ’80s. I can’t remember the title. Jody, you know what’s on?”
Jody shakes her head. “Nope. I just remember thinking it was so not my kind of movie. Too many explosions and cheesy one-liners.”
“ Ooh . Car chases and big explosions?” Ellie’s eyes light up, teasing but genuine. “Count me in.”
After dinner, as Ellie and I walk together over to the rec room, I fight the urge to slip my hand around hers. Soon we arrive at the space that’s been transformed for movie night. Mismatched chairs fill the area facing the far wall, where a white sheet hangs as a makeshift screen. A digital projector sits on a stack of storage containers, its fan humming.
Several small couches have been arranged against the back wall, offering the most comfortable seats in the house. I lead us over to one of them before anyone else can claim it.
“I’ll grab us some snacks,” I say. “Any preferences?”
Ellie smiles at me, her eyes twinkling. “Surprise me.”
Is she flirting with me? Or am I just so damn lovestruck that I’m imagining it? I practically stumble my way over to the refreshment table, scanning the offerings. I grab a bag of salt and vinegar chips, some chocolate-covered pretzels, and a package of sour gummy worms.
When I return to the couch, Ellie narrows her eyes at the colorful package of gummy worms, her tone playfully accusatory. “How did you know these are my favorite?”
“I didn’t,” I say, settling in beside her. The cushions shift under my weight, bringing us closer together. “But they’re my favorite too.”
She tears open the package, her brows scrunched together in mock concern. “This could be a problem. We’ll end up fighting over them.”
“Depends. Which ones are your favorite?”
“Red. Always red,” she says, already picking one out.
“You’re safe then. I’m strictly a green and yellow man myself.”
Relief washes over her face, exaggerated for effect. “Thank goodness. I was worried we were about to become archenemies again.”
I watch as she pops a piece of candy into her mouth, distracted by her lips’ fullness. My cock twitches awake, heat rushing south, and I force myself to look away before it becomes obvious.
I turn to survey the room as more people file in. Colton stands near the doorway, scanning for an empty seat, his eyes landing on Ellie more than once.
“Looks like Colton wishes he was sitting where I am,” I murmur.
Ellie follows my gaze and laughs softly. “He can deal with it.” She leans in closer, her shoulder pressing against mine. “Besides, Colton isn’t my type.”
My heart hammers against my ribs. “And what is your type?”
She tilts her head, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Funnily enough, I’ve always had a thing for big guys with unusual names.”
Before I can respond, Thompson’s voice cuts across the room. “Alright, people! Find your seats. Movie’s about to start.”
Everyone scrambles to settle in, and someone hits the lights. The projector beam cuts through the darkness, illuminating the sheet with the opening credits. Synthesizer music fills the room.
As the movie progresses, Ellie shifts closer to me on the couch, gently leaning against my side. With a jackhammering heart, I move my arm to rest on the back of the couch behind her shoulders. She immediately settles deeper against me, her warmth radiating against my chest.
I know this can’t last—her transport will arrive, she’ll leave, and Antarctica will reclaim its cold dominion over my life.
But right now, with her body nestled against mine, it feels like she’s exactly where she belongs.