No Gentle Giant (A Small Town Romance)

Ember lets out a little giggle.

“You didn’t have to be so mean.”

“...look, tree hugger, those things can have rabies.” I straighten, squaring my shoulders. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here before he comes back with friends.”

We make short work out of hauling the top bag out, though it takes both of us when it’s so heavy I’m amazed the weight of the bars hasn’t ripped right through the plastic. I toss aside crumpled papers and things I’d rather not think about before they appear.

Two shiny gold bars, sitting there against the torn-up trash bag, gleaming in the light spilling down the alleyway from the streetlights on Main.

Ember lets out a soft, whistling breath. “Pretty wild.”

“I know.” And I feel as heavy as those bars. “There’s a lot more where these came from. Ember, I...I don’t know if I can let you shoulder the responsibility for this. With the vault.”

“It’s the safest option.” She starts to touch my arm, then looks down at her grimy hand and pulls it back, wrinkling her nose. “Look, Fel, we’re family. What’s family for, if we’re not looking out for each other?”

I don’t know.

I just don’t know, even if I get how she feels when Mom’s the main reason this is so important. I can’t forget that photo of Paisley, standing outside her house, reminding me just how easily the next time there’s a call it could be the Coeur d’Alene police asking me to identify a body.

No.

I don’t know what to say, so I just offer the best smile I can muster and lug one of those godawful heavy gold bars into my arms. I hope the second one doesn’t topple tiny Ember over.

“C’mon,” I say. “I need to swing by my house for an overnight bag and a shower before heading back to Alaska’s place.”

I turn to totter back to the car, reeling under the twenty pound plus weight of the bar. Ember strains behind me, followed by her shuffling footsteps.

But I nearly drop the bar I’m carrying on the hood of my car as she teases breathlessly at my back, “Ooh-lah-lah! Overnight bag? I thought you two weren’t a thing.”

“Oh my God, stop.” I wrangle the bar into the crook of one arm like the heaviest golden baby on the planet, sweat rolling down my neck, so I can pull the trunk open and pitch the thing inside.

“I hate all those rumors. Nothing’s happening. People just have the wrong idea, as usual. Alaska’s helping me out, and it’s already too much of a burden on him. I wouldn’t ask him to take on anything else.”

Ember lets out a low grunt as she steps up next to me and drops the second gold bar into the trunk. It hits the other with a clatter, hard enough to make the station wagon bounce on its rear wheels for a second.

But she’s not bouncing, not her usual bright, effusive self, as she gives me a long look.

“That’s the problem,” Ember says softly. “You think being with you would be a burden. I bet he feels differently.”

“Not if he knows me.” I shrug. It’s just the stone-cold truth. “Every man turns tail and runs when they realize what a disaster I am, Em. Not to mention I’m a workaholic. I practically live at The Nest. When would I have time for a boyfriend, anyway?”

“If you met the right guy, you’d make time. Believe me, Fel.” Her smile starts creeping back, merry and sweet. “And Alaska seems like your type. Big, hunky, and not easy to scare off. You’d think he was one of our guys from the start with the way he fits in around here.”

“He might fit in around here,” I say, and cut off the conversation by rounding the front of the station wagon and slipping behind the wheel. “But he doesn’t fit with me.”

It’s not fair.

Alaska’s bed shouldn’t smell so much like him.

My dreams are haunted by mint and muscle and testosterone musk spun visions—especially the kind where a beast of a man surfaces from glacial waters, dripping wet and magnificent.

Alaska’s imaginary body is hardly the only thing that’s wet by morning.

By the time I stretch myself awake, I’m aching, and also still feeling guilty about him being a certified gentleman and giving his bed up for me. But I was too tired to argue, and just grateful that Ember hadn’t insisted on following me to Alaska’s cabin.

Grateful, too, that someone stronger than I am took care of lugging those two gold bars out of the back of Alaska’s Jeep. I’d driven it back to my house with Ember taking my car, then transferred the bars, Ember, Shrub, and enough clothing for a few nights into the Jeep, dropped her and Shrub at her house, and headed over to the Charming Inn.

Alaska didn’t even ask for explanations. He just stuffed the bars behind the wood pile again.