Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
His smile is sad.
“Then you decided to move to Alaska?”
“It was too hard to stay in Finland without her, so I started looking at moving back home, to Whitefish. I went for a visit. It was good to see family but moving back didn’t appeal to me. Then I ran into Marshall Deeks in town, also visiting. I’ve known him since I was a kid, volunteering. He told me if I wanted a job up here, he’d make it happen. Even something seasonal, if I wanted to keep racing. Tero and Anja told me the dogs were mine to take wherever I wanted, as long as I cared for them the same way she had. Then Reed called me up, begging me to let him come help, my real estate agent found the farm, which was exactly what I was looking for, and it all kind of fell into place. It seemed like this is how I was meant to move on with my life.”
And yet, Tyler hasn’t moved on. He may have physically relocated, but his head and heart are still living four thousand miles away and two years ago.
I curl my arms around my chest to ward off the first hint of a chill. “Is this your plan for the long term, then? Ranger in the summers, musher in the winters?”
“Honestly, I’m still taking it one day at a time. Between my savings, Mila’s life insurance, and a decent inheritance from my parents when they sold their property to developers, I have enough money to keep me going for a bit. I’ll race this team until they can’t race anymore. After that …” He shakes his head. “Reed wants to compete, so maybe I’ll help him get set up with a team and then I’ll see about something more permanent for myself, up in Denali, working with the dogs there.”
He’s talking deep within the park. There is an expansive area that is only accessible by sled dogs in the winter, where anything motorized is banned.
He inhales deeply, as if that’ll expel the weight of the topic. “How’s our friend Harry doing, by the way?”
“Harry? I have no idea. I guess you haven’t heard?” I assumed everyone would have by now.
Tyler frowns. “Heard what?”
“I’m no longer the Hatchett Kennels’ veterinarian.”
His eyebrows arch. “Are you kidding me? Since when?”
I hesitate.
Tyler’s head falls back. “Since you took me on, and he found out.” The muscles in his jaw clench. “What a little shithead.”
“It was going to happen eventually.” Tyler’s rage reminds me of Jonah’s, and it’s oddly satisfying. “Things have not been going well for Harry, and he’s looking for everyone else to blame so he doesn’t have to take responsibility. Let him learn the hard way how good he had it.” I just hope it’s not at the dogs’ expense.
“Do you know who he went to?”
I clear my throat. “From what I’ve heard … Frank Hartley.”
Tyler’s bellow of laughter echoes through the night. Across the property, through the open windows, Yukon and Bentley howl in response.
“Shhh!” I give his boot a playful kick. “You’ll wake my parents.” My dad has no doubt fallen asleep in his chair watching TV.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve had to worry about that.” Tyler shifts to peek through the window behind him. The curtains are open, and the lamp inside casts enough light to see most everything—the kitchenette, the couch, my bed in the back. “I meant to ask, whatever happened with your friend after last weekend?”
“Who, Jonah?” I shake my head. “Nothing.” I dropped off flowers and nonalcoholic wine the next day, apologized for ducking out before I had a chance to congratulate them, Jonah pestered me about making out with Tyler in the parking lot—he obviously made a sharp turn back the way he came and missed the worst of it—and that was that. If he or Calla suspected there was more to it than some rush of hormones between Tyler and me, they never hinted at it. Besides, Jonah’s too busy bouncing around their place and measuring one of the spare rooms for the nursery to think about anything else.
“So, it worked, then?”
“Seemed to.” Too well, because all I’ve been thinking about all week is the feel of Tyler’s mouth and hands on me, and him, inside me.
Wishing for an excuse to experience it again.
Right now would be ideal.
A heady mood settles over the space within my screened-in porch, intensifying with each passing moment. Is that why he’s here?
It can’t go that far, anyway, I remind myself. My period came yesterday morning. Still, I can think of a dozen ways I’d like to touch him.
I check the monitor for a distraction from my illicit thoughts.
Tyler must take that as his sign to leave because he eases out of his chair with a stretch. “I should get going. Reed’s been home alone all day.”