Chapter Eight
Jamison
I’m pretty certain I could sit across from Claire and do this all night. We’ve slowed down on the pizza and are now sharing stories back and forth.
I’ve learned that she loves running. She’s even run a marathon before. She hates bananas. Says they leave a funky taste in her mouth. And she can’t stand to be cold, which is funny because she loves Alaska. Her favorite soup is clam chowder. She will watch the sunset every day if she can. She hates the smell of cologne. She loves to read books.
Every detail is something new, something that brings me deeper into her world, and she demands something in return for every secret she shares.
She’s learned I hate running but could hike to the top of a mountain any day. That I hate bananas but not as much as eggplant. And lucky for her, I’m always warm. And of course, her mother’s clam chowder is the best. I usually catch the sunset every day while I’m flying home, so she should join me. And I never wear cologne. She shares with me all the books I need to read because, well, honestly, I don’t read. Her recommendation of Sean Weston’s latest novel is at the top of my list now.
She slides the paper back to me. It’s covered in a mix of her feminine scrawl and my chicken scratch. It’s her and me, poised and rugged combined.
Will you tell me what happened to your mother?
I cringe at her request. Apparently, we are past the easy get-to-know-you stuff. Diving into the heavy stuff. I hadn’t felt the weight of life bearing down on me from the moment I stepped into her house and saw her tonight. It’s edging its way back in with the thought of my mother.
I release a sigh and start writing. Her plane crashed over the Copper Valley four winters ago. I led the search and rescue, but we were too late. She died in my arms before I could save her.
I slide the paper back. Claire only takes a moment to read it before she jumps up and wraps me in her arms. I’m still sitting, so she’s hunched over with her arms around me. I stiffen because I’m so thrown by the fact she’s embracing me, but also because she’s literally shoving the side of my face into her breasts. It’s the best hug I’ve ever had. Not only is she sincere, but the soft curves of her body mold well to mine when my arms wrap around her waist.
“Sorry.”
I freeze. Her voice…it’s soft. So quiet I can barely make the sound out. It’s beautiful, so I pull back to see her, my hands resting on her hips. Tears are streaming down her cheeks. I never thought I’d hear her speak.
I’m shaking my head and wiping the tears from her face. Don’t cry for me, I beg her. I can’t sign or write with my hands occupied, but I know she’s reading my facial expression. She’s staring at me. Her pity and pain are so difficult for me to bear.
She rubs her fists in circles on her chest again and again. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry, she tells me over and over. She’s breaking my heart.
I’m okay.Watching Claire fall apart in my arms because of my pain is one of the hardest things I’ve ever seen. I’m okay, I sign for her again.
Now I need her to be okay. I place my hand on her hip and look up. The desire to touch her is overpowering. I shouldn’t. We’re just becoming friends, so I slide my hand away.
Let’s watch a movie,I sign, hoping that changing the subject will help. God, I hope it removes the sadness that covers her face.
She nods in agreement. Her breathing is more labored, but her tears are drying up, so I breathe easier. She uses the back of her hands to wipe the last remnants of moisture away.
Do you have popcorn?Claire asks.
I have to assume the sign is popcorn, anyway, but it fits as her fingers flick like kernels popping. I disappear into the kitchen to grab popcorn and more water for us. When I return to the living room, Claire gets comfortable on the couch and pulls a blanket from the side. It’s big and fluffy. Her brows lower, perhaps surprised my bachelor pad home has a fuzzy purple blanket.
Rylee, I sign. When my friends are over, Rylee prefers comfort. Claire nibbles her bottom lip, her teeth pressing into the stained lower one. The thought of biting it myself sweeps over me. She has me going from sad and heartbroken to picturing her naked in my bed. A constant roller coaster, but more of a rush than anything I’ve experienced before.
Now, to make sure she knows—with hope she sees us going that direction, against my better judgment—I’m single. Rylee’s a friend. Nothing more.
I stare at her and raise my brow when she doesn’t acknowledge my statement. As much as I know I’m not relationship material, I want to be for her. She makes me want to be a better man so I can deserve her.
Okay, is all she signs back, yet the slight lift of her lip lets me know just how okay she is with it. I love the little possessive jealous streak she’s getting over me.
She snuggles in closer, and I start the movie. The moment the introduction begins, the subtitles scroll across the bottom, and the volume is down. I read the movie with her and enjoy the silence of the house. Without the sound disruption of the movie, I can hear the breeze beat against the house and the gentle sound of her breathing next to me.
I love this, she tells me.
My only response is, Me too. I want to tell her I could do this every night and I’m certain it wouldn’t get old.
◆◆◆
After my evening spent with Claire, I wasn’t inclined to let letters be our only form of communication during the times she’s back in Anchorage, so I put my number in her phone and asked for hers. This way, I can text anytime I want. I told her I still needed that picture of her classroom setup and that we needed to talk about the thriller she has me reading. We also have more secrets to share. Now we’ve texted daily for the two weeks she’s been home.
I’ve never been that great with numbers. I usually switch them around and fuck it up. Luckily, as a bush pilot, we tend to go more by natural instinct.
I stare at my phone as the three dots appear, letting me know she’s composing a secret to share in return. I’ve never been this caught up in a girl—well, not in a while, anyway. That should worry me, but I push those thoughts away, refusing to compare Claire in any way to my ex, Lizzy. Besides, I haven’t thought about her in years, and I’m not about to start now. Yeah, I’m not the best when it comes to relationships, which is obvious by my track record. That’s why I told myself to keep Claire in the friend zone. I never listen, even to myself.
“What the hell, Jamison? I’ve been waiting ten minutes for you, and you’re playing on your damn phone?” Thorne’s deep voice echoes off the hangar.
I slip my phone away, unable to read Claire’s return message. I’m thirty fucking years old and got caught texting on the clock.
I glance up just as Chadwick slaps his hand on Thorne’s shoulder. “Take it easy on him, boss. He’s got a new girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend—”
“What the fuck?” Thorne responds.
“Get this,” Chadwick continues. “He’s totally into this chick. Even learned sign language for her and sends her letters in the mail.”
Thorne just stands there with a brow raised. A loss for words, which doesn’t normally happen. He’d be the first to lay into any of us if he has a mind to do so.
“He watches her nonstop too.”
No arguments. That’s true; I can’t take my eyes off Claire. Which makes the “just friends” that much harder. I shrug, then rise from the bench to follow them. Better get my head focused. There are too many variables with my job to not go in with a clear head.
When Chadwick opens his mouth, Thorne just shakes his head and cuts him off. “You two are making a run to Kodiak.”
Thorne walks away, and I follow Chadwick out to the airstrip. Thorne has been in my life as long as Chadwick. He’s the closest thing to a father I have. Things were always rough between us. As a kid, I wasn’t as easy to handle. Since my mother’s passing, the relationship has stayed strictly business between us. Rather than letting my thoughts go the rest of the way down that path, I check my plane is loaded properly and run my preflight checks.
“So have you kissed her yet?” Chadwick’s voice crackles over my headset as we settle into the cockpit and strap in.
“No.” I flip a switch on the control and send word to the ground that we are ready for takeoff. Once ground gives us the okay, I take off and let the comfort of flying consume me.
“Why not? Has it been that long? Need some pointers on dating?”
“You’re an asshole, you know that? And like I need pointers on love from someone so oblivious.”
“Who the fuck said I was talking about love, brother? I just meant a nice piece of ass.”
“Don’t talk about her like that.” I reach ten thousand feet and head west. We make a weekly trip to Kodiak. The supplies we take to the larger city require a two-man crew and a bigger plane. I’d much rather have taken the thirty-minute trip with Rylee or Finn this time.
“Wait? What do you mean by me being oblivious to love?”
“You’re extra slow sometimes. I don’t know how you manage to be a pilot and not kill yourself.”
His gasp is loud in my ear. “I handle the throttle to my plane just like I do a woman in my bed—smooth and with fucking perfection.”
“You’re an idiot.” Yet he’s my best friend. Despite his obtrusive personality, he’s one of the most dedicated and honest people I’ve ever met. He’s been by my side forever.
“I really like her.” It’s spoken firm and sure from Chadwick’s voice, sincere. I turn to watch him for a moment and catch the slight tilt to his lip.
“Yeah, I really like her too.” I look forward and watch as Alaska’s beauty sweeps out below us. There’s something about my best friend’s acceptance of the girl I’m going crazy about that keeps the smile on my face long after we land in Kodiak and start unloading.