Chapter Twenty-Eight RUSSELL
Chapter Twenty-Eight
RUSSELL
“What?”
Graham eyed me. “Yeah, Paisley’'ll switch rotations next week. Thought you might want to know up front. She hasn't talked to you about it?”
“No,” I said curtly. “This is bullshit.”
“Actually, I think it's for the best.”
“Why?” I practically barked back at Graham.
He stepped past me and closed the door to the office. Resting his hips against the desk, he gave me a long, considering look. “Dude, I've known you for so long I don't remember not knowing you.”
“What the fuck does that have to do with this?” I muttered.
“I think you have more than just casual feelings for Paisley. At the interview, you were kind of an ass about it, but I think then it was just lust.”
I opened my mouth to argue, and his brows hitched up, almost daring me. I let out a sigh. “But we got past that,” I said, feeling way more defensive than I preferred.
“Yeah, that's great, but now you're dealing with this thing called feelings.”
“It's—”
“Complicated,” he filled in for me. “No matter what, it is best for the crew and for you and for her to handle it this way.
Hell, that's what Susannah and Ward did, and it was a smart move.
Respect is hard enough for women to earn as hotshots.
Things can get messy. Ward's pretty open about why it turned out best for Susannah and him not to be on the same crew.
If you two don't work things out, well then…” Graham let his words trail off.
“That'll be even more complicated,” I grumbled and then practically bit my tongue off because I was about to say that wasn't an option.
“You’re not going to like the other thing I have to say,” Graham added.
“What's that?” I was feeling downright sullen now.
“You have been off a hair, not at work, but personally, ever since what happened with your dad.”
“Graham,” I warned.
He didn’t heed me. “I'm your friend, so I'm saying something. I think it hit you hard, and I get it. You don't even talk about it. Hell, I don't even think you let yourself think about it. Since he passed, you’ve been different.”
Graham couldn't have known how spot-on he was because that was the plain truth.
Every time my mind went in the direction of my father, I just shut it down.
My chest hurt and my throat ached, and fuck it all, I was not going to burst into tears, not at work.
I wasn't one of those assholes who didn't think men should cry, but I needed to have some dignity.
I breathed in slowly, keeping my eyes trained on the tile lines a few feet beyond the desk. After several deep breaths, I leveled my gaze with Graham’s and nodded. “I know. It was hard, and I miss him.”
“Of course, you do.”
“You're bringing this up now, why?”
Graham cast me a rueful smile, the understanding in his eyes making my chest hurt all over again.
“I'm not really sure. Somehow, my brain thinks your feelings for Paisley and maybe how you got a little overprotective out in the field the other day are somehow tied to your dad.
But what the hell do I know? I'm just a guy.”
My laugh was dry, and even I could hear the bitterness in it. “You're not just some guy. You're a friend who I've known for as long as I can remember. You're also a kick-ass dad, and you might have a little more knowledge about relationships than I do.”
Graham shrugged, casting me a lopsided grin. “Maybe a few months of knowledge, but that's it.”
We laughed together. “You going to be okay?” he asked after we stood there silently for probably too long.
I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for the heads-up on the crew change for Paisley.”
“You want to go grab a beer?”
“Nah, not up for that tonight, but thanks.”
My friend nodded. “Okay. I'll see you at work tomorrow.”
After leaving the office, I walked down the hallway to the reception area, and my eyes landed on the giant pumpkin full of candy perched on Maisie’s desk.
She was on the phone. Normally, I would have wanted to stop and steal some of that candy, but I wasn't in the mood.
I drove toward home, not even sure that was where I wanted to go. I felt pulled in two directions.
Graham's observations had me partially wanting to run from Paisley.
Maybe it was best she wasn't on my crew.
But now, I'd have to worry about her even more because she would be out in the field without me.
Of course, that only proved Graham's point.
I didn't know what the hell to think about his observation about my dad.
I took a sharp turn before I got to the lake house, driving down a narrow road that spit me out at a secluded parking area on the lake. It wasn't frequented by many, except for high school kids looking for a private place to make out. For now, no one was here.
I parked and stared out over the lake. I missed my dad so much.
He died after his gear broke, and that sucked.
My dad had loved the outdoors. That was how my parents ended up here.
He came up here for some temporary summer job, and they stayed.
He wasn't even working the day the accident happened.
He'd gone climbing, and something went wrong. His harness broke, and he died.
By the time I got there with the crew, he was already dead.
I kept replaying it as if I could’ve done something to change the series of events, which was crazy thinking.
I took a breath, watching as a flock of trumpeter swans floated serenely on the water.
The sun was setting, and the lake was awash in a shimmer of pink and lavender.
Sunsets in autumn in Alaska were glorious.
I suppose that could be said about any time of year, but I loved the colors in the fall.
When the moon came to claim the sky from the sun, I breathed in a gulp of air, letting it out in a rush. “I miss you, Dad,” I whispered into the truck.
We'd fished here many times when I was a kid.
I didn't catch much, but it was where I learned to fish and always had fun.
When I got older, we fished on the inlet in boats and went dipnetting during the summer.
I climbed out of my truck, idly kicking a loose pebble as I crossed the gravel to stand at the edge of the water.
The tall summer grasses were dying and were bleached.
A raven called with another answering in return.
That awful feeling I'd started to get in Graham's office finally began to abate.
I'd wanted a chance to say goodbye to my dad, and he’d given it to me in a small way.
Even though I was pissed about it, it probably was best for Paisley to switch crews because I couldn't seem to keep my hands off her.
And I knew I was in love with her. That awareness hit me like a gong reverberating in my chest—again and again and again.
Holy shit. I swallowed and took another breath. Things really were complicated. So much for no strings. I knew what I felt when I was with Paisley alone at night. But damn, that woman played her cards so close to her chest that I didn’t know if she’d ever face her feelings.
I gave my head a shake, chuckling as I turned away. In a way, I felt lighter, if only because Graham forced me to admit something. The weight of loving Paisley wasn't heavy, but it was uncertain. I didn't know what to do with it.
I climbed in my truck and drove home, almost surprised to see her car there. She was a master of avoidance. I suppose I recognized that tendency because, in a way, I was myself or had been in certain areas of my life. I walked into the house to find her in the kitchen staring in the pantry.
My heart turned over in my chest, and warmth filled the space. She was always at a loss in the kitchen unless there was something in a box. Even then, I could feel her resigned to the decision because she felt as if it was her only option.
“I'll cook dinner,” I called as I shrugged out of my jacket and kicked my boots off by the door.
Paisley's eyes tracked me as I crossed the kitchen. I got angry all over again. I stopped a few feet away, tossing my keys in the bowl on the table by the counter. The clatter of them landing was loud in the quiet space.
“Why didn't you tell me?” I asked.
She bit her lip. “I don't know. I guess I was worried you'd be upset.”
“Well, I'm upset you didn't tell me.”
She stared at me. “What?” she pressed when I didn't say anything further.
“So, it's okay to spend every night with me, but I'm not even worth a conversation that you asked to switch crews? I'm assuming you asked because of me.”
The brief respite of peace I’d found only moments earlier had gone up in smoke. I was hurt and angry, and it was because I'd gone and fallen in love with her. Like a dumbass.
“Russell.” She shook her head quickly. “I don't know how to explain, and I didn't want to have an argument about it.” She gestured back and forth between us. “This is what I didn't want to do.”
“But you want to do this?” In a flash, I was standing in front of her, one arm curling around her waist as I pulled her fast against me.
The minute our mouths met, it felt like a flame racing up to the end of a fuse and catching a gust of wind, making it burn fast. Our kiss was a tangle, our teeth clanking together at one point.
Then it was like it always was with her. I couldn't get enough, and she met me every step of the way—her tongue dueling with mine, her hands impatient on my body, her palm curling around my cock, teasing me while I muttered filthy endearments.
Because I lost my mind when I was with her, and the fire took over, sizzling through my veins, I had her right there in the kitchen again. This time, her legs were curled around my hips as I lifted her onto the counter.
When I sank into her, seating myself deeply, I held still, murmuring, “Paisley, look at me.”
Her lashes lifted slowly, and her heavy-lidded gaze met mine.
I could feel the echoing beat of her heart against my chest. Her nipples were drawn into taut peaks, pressed against me.
The core of her was slick with arousal and rippling around me.
The sound of our breathing filled the space around us as we stared at each other.
I sensed the moment she wanted to look away, the moment the intimacy became just too much.
But she didn’t. She lifted her chin and blinked. For a second, I could’ve sworn I saw the sheen of tears in her eyes, but then one of her heels spurred my ass, and she said, “More.”
I could only give her what she wanted. What she wanted was what I wanted. I drew back and thrust into her again, holding her fast until she flew apart in my arms, her entire body trembling as she pulled my own release from me. Once again, I carried her to bed. This time, to mine.
It wasn't until the following morning that I realized my mistake.