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“Okay,” I say through a yawn. “Give me an hour?”
He smirks. “So you can log in more sleep?” He knows me too well, because that’s exactly what I was envisioning. And to think there was a time when I’d use every one of those minutes to primp. “Be ready in twenty.”
I check the clock. “It’s only seven a.m.! What is wrong with you? Don’t people sleep in on their days off in Alaska?” I’ve been getting up at six every morning lately to see Jonah off on a rash of supply runs from Anchorage to remote locations in the interior. I went with him for two of those days, mainly so I could meet people and get scenic shots for social media, both for The Yeti and for my own personal use. But the carpenter was here to install the screens for the porch, so I’ve had to be around. It’s not a hardship, if I’m being honest. As much as I love spending time with Jonah, the supply trips are becoming repetitive and mundane. I feel more productive in the office with paperwork and marketing than I do rattling around in turbulence and delivering boxes of ground coffee to
a remote resort for the tourist season.
It was different last summer, when all this was new and thrilling, when the clock was ticking on my time in Alaska and with Jonah. It’s still exciting to be in the air with him, but now that I’m here for good, I don’t feel the necessity to tag along on every flight.
Though, if we leave soon, I might get a day off from Muriel. True to her word, the day after the bear-trap disaster, I heard the buzz of her ATV coming up the driveway at seven a.m. She arrived with trays of tiny green plants strapped next to the gun on her rack and a hand-drawn map to mark where everything had to be planted. A replication of Colette’s garden.
Every morning since, she’s shown up at our side doorstep, rain or shine, dragging me out to check on the electric fence and the piles of dirt and tiny seedlings, confirming that nothing has changed save for the few weeds that pop up here and there. She even makes a point of releasing Zeke and Bandit from the pen along the way.
“Come on, sun’s been up for hours. It’s a nice day out.” Jonah punctuates his words by strolling over to yank open the curtain.
I attempt to block the beam of light with a hand, squinting against the brightness. “Half an hour,” I negotiate.
“There’s coffee ready downstairs.”
“A latte?” My barista machine—a duplicate to the one Simon bought—arrived yesterday.
“You know I have no damn clue how to use that thing.” Jonah drags our comforter off the bed, leaving my bare skin exposed to the chilly morning air.
I groan loudly as I stretch my arms above my head. “Stop being such a morning person. It’s annoying.”
He opens his mouth to respond but stalls, his blue eyes surveying my naked body.
I could still win this. “So … an hour?” I taunt, arching my back just enough to bring his heated gaze to my chest.
He curses under his breath and then spins around and marches out the door, hollering, “Twenty minutes!”
“You’re in full-on yeti mode. Great.” I stare up at our wood-planked ceiling. Jonah doesn’t fall easily to distraction when he’s like that. With my attempts at seduction thwarted, I haul my tired body to the bathroom.
* * *
Exhilaration courses through me as Jonah cuts the engine on Archie and I take in the familiar valley—the walls of sheer rock climbing into the sky on either side of us; the snaking river that stretches ahead, its water trickling over rock and pebble, circumventing fallen logs, the rivulets converging and diverging again.
The last time we were here, we were on a mission to pick up a couple who’d been hiking in the mountains for a week, and the inclement weather forced an overnight stay. Now, fluffy white clouds float above us, breaking up an otherwise crisp blue sky.
Jonah hangs up his headset. “Worth draggin’ your ass out of bed for?”
“Absolutely.” I clasp his cheeks with my hands and pull his face into mine, planting a hard kiss on his lips. “This is the best surprise, Jonah. Seriously.”
The floats attached to the amphibious plane make it too high for me to hop down easily. I wait for Jonah to appear on my side and then reach for his shoulders and jump onto him.
He stalls my descent with a searing kiss, leaving my feet to dangle midair for several long moments before touching down on the dirt airstrip.
“You’re acting weird,” I note. I can’t place a finger on what exactly it is that’s odd, but whatever it is, he’s been doing it since waking me.
His brow furrows. “Because I kissed you?”
“Yeah. Or, I don’t know. You seem … happier than normal? What gives?”
“Can’t I be in a good mood?” He pulls out our small orange cooler from the seat.
I frown. “Are we staying over?”
“Nah. It’s just a light lunch.” He smirks. “Figured you wouldn’t want jerky again.”
