CHAPTER 33
Luke
Iwas in the Catch-22 from hell.
On a normal day, I was turned on by Mina, ready to close the door to the bedroom and strip her naked. But today? When we defined our relationship and the word that didn’t get bandied around carelessly entered the equation?
I wanted to find the nearest bald pine, pin her against it, and convince her there was no one else for either of us ever again.
Considering the look she gave me before Pebbles barked, I doubted she’d mind.
Which brought me to the catch: the dogs.
Mina was right. The little beasts wouldn’t leave us alone unless we wore their butts out or crated them. After the serenade we got last night when we tried that, I didn’t really want a repeat.
So, I was stuck on this damn hike until they gave up.
But the moment the second dog flopped, I was scooping her up, and we were heading for the truck.
Ahead, the trail forked, and the trees parted to the right, giving us a glimpse of the water in Gastineau Channel, where the trail met Dupont Beach.
“Do you want to go look at the water?” I glanced at Mina, then at Betty, who veered off into the underbrush.
“Sure. We can let them sniff the beach. Pebbles likes the water. I don’t know about Betty, though.” Mina tossed me a saucy smile. “I guess we’ll find out.”
I chuckled. “Here’s hoping she doesn’t get tumbled by a wave. My clothes and Ellis’s pack will smell like wet dog, if so.”
“I’m not so sure,” Mina said with a light laugh. “She’s not getting fatigued yet, and we’ve walked about two miles.”
“Hush. She’ll get there.” With a wink, I tugged on the dog’s leash and headed for the water.
She was right, though. Neither dog was really showing signs of fatigue. We’d stopped a couple of times to offer them water when their tongues lolled out a little too far. The pep in their step had remained.
We broke through the trees and onto the rocky beach. Betty immediately yipped and ran for the water; only the leash clipped to her harness stopped her.
Mina laughed. “I think maybe she likes it.”
“Yeah.” Chuckling, I walked forward, letting the rambunctious animal reach the wave line. Even though the waves were only a few inches tall, water still crashed over her feet, and she backpedaled, then barked.
“Or maybe not.” Laughing, I hooked my fingers into Betty’s harness and plucked her off the ground, swinging her just a few feet away. Water still lapped at her feet, but it was more of a creep now than a splash.
Pebbles, however, had no such qualms. She darted to the edge of the water and ran through the tiny waves. Mina held on tight to the dog’s leash. While the wave height here was low, they were still half the height of the small dog.
We let them play for several minutes before we walked down the beach, enjoying the sound of the water and the wind. I loved Alaska in the summer. Sunshine glinted off the water, warm and bright. You could even smell it in the air.
I liked winter, too, because it was equally gorgeous. But I also liked my fingers not freezing at work.
After we explored the beach, we headed back to the trail.
“Do you want to go further, or turn back?” I asked.
“Are these two ready to turn back, do you think?” Mina gestured to the dogs. At that exact moment, Betty tackled Pebbles, who sprang to her feet and gave her new sister a solid, snarly bark. It didn’t deter the lab puppy at all.
I rolled my eyes. “Not yet, but it’s also two miles back to the truck.”
“True.” But she still didn’t look convinced.
“Let’s hike another half mile, then turn around. Surely, somewhere in that five miles they’ll give in.”
