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I lived and worked at Walker Adventures, an outdoor resort in Alaska. It was just outside Diamond Creek, one of the coastal jewels of Southcentral Alaska. Diamond Creek was a beautiful little town nestled in the foothills of the mountains with the glittering waters of Kachemak Bay beside it.
My brother, Diego, was a pilot and flew for Walker Adventures. One of his best friends, Flynn Walker, owned the place. They'd been in the Air Force together. When I came up to visit, I ended up staying. My brother used to live in the staff house at the resort, but he'd fallen in love and moved out to live with his girlfriend. That left me here with Grant and Cat, who were Flynn’s younger siblings.
Grant was busy, and he was gone a lot, which was a massive relief because I'd been crushing on him—hard—ever since I'd moved up here. I kept telling myself I would get over it. Unfortunately, my body was ignoring every memo I sent. I tried to be stern with myself. I even had a few mental knock-down, drag-out fights with my hormones. They were pretty powerful and had left my willpower feeling defeated.
I sighed aloud in the bedroom and tapped on my computer screen. I had some work to do on the website for Walker Adventures, so I might as well focus on that right now. We had plenty of business, but I wanted to up their website game. I'd started creating profiles for all the pilots. Of course, my naughty little index finger clicked on the tab that took me to Grant's profile.
Sweet hell. My pulse took off like a thoroughbred in a race.
There he was. Rugged and handsome with sharp, chiseled features. He looked a lot like his brother, Flynn. I clicked over to Flynn. Nothing, nothing. My pulse was all ho-hum.
I switched back to Grant. He had dark-blond hair and glacial-blue eyes with a charcoal rim, angled cheekbones, a straight blade of a nose, a square jaw, and full lips. I clicked back to Flynn. Still zero physical reaction. Flynn was happily married and deeply in love with Daphne. I didn’t want to want Flynn. I really didn't, but if I could feel any spurt ofanythingwith my hormones, then I wouldn't feel so crazy about Grant.
Jodi was right. Grantwashot. But she was wrong about him liking me. Although he was a nice guy, he treated me pretty much the way he treated his younger sister, Cat. I sighed again. I clicked out of Grant’s profile, abandoning that project to work on something else.
Hours later, I was asleep in my bed, minding my own business. I didn't know what woke me up, but I came awake abruptly. My laptop had slid off my lap onto the mattress. I heard a sound, and then I could have sworn I heard Grant's voice. What the hell?
I’d fallen asleep in a pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt. Rolling out of bed, I walked into the hallway. Grant’s bedroom door was open, the lights were out, and there was no sign of him. I hurried down the stairs, worry percolating in my thoughts. I dashed out onto the porch when I heard more noise. The motion-activated porch light was already on. A giant bull moose was pawing the ground and snorting, all bossy-like.
“Grant?” I called.
“Yeah?” he returned, frustration evident in his tone.
“Are you okay?”
“For now. We need to chase this guy off.”
I studied the moose, who was completely ignoring me. Glancing around, I saw the snow shovel propped in the corner of the porch. It wasn’t winter, but the shovel had been waiting for its moment. I snagged it and banged it against the railing. The sound reverberated loudly. The moose stopped pawing the ground and turned to face me. Its antlers were illuminated by the porch light. A stab of fear galvanized me, and I banged the shovel again.
The moose took a step back, eyeing me warily. I jogged to the base of the stairs and picked up a rock. I threw it at him, hitting him in the rump. The moose snorted, turning once more to look at me. Another moment later, he seemed to decide it wasn't worth the trouble and loped off into the darkness.
“He's gone!” I called.
“I'm going to give it a minute to be safe,” Grant answered.
He waited until the sound of the moose’s hooves striking the ground faded. Meanwhile, I stood on the porch.
Grant approached in the darkness. Because my eyes were freaking annoying, I scanned him once he was within the circle of light cast by the porch. His gait had a slight hitch. Before I knew it, I was actually running off the steps.
“Grant! Are you okay?”
He stopped in front of me, and I looked up. He had a nasty scrape on his cheek and his shirt was torn. I could see blood staining the ragged fabric over his shoulder. “What happened?”
“The moose kicked me,” he said with a shrug like it wasn’t even a thing.
He stepped around me, walking up the steps and through the open door. I hurried after him.
“Grant!” I exclaimed as I slammed the door behind us.
He walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass out of the cabinet and turning on the faucet to fill it with water. Seconds later, he gulped it down before he turned and looked at me. “I'm fine.”
“You're bleeding!” I yelped.
“My face isn't too bad,” he offered, lightly touching the scraped area.
“It's not your face. Obviously, your face got scraped.”
“Yeah, that’s when I fell,” he interjected.
