I inhale the scent of body wash on his skin from his shower. “This is only the beginning. By the time I’m done with my marketing plan, every Alaskan man, woman, and child will have heard of The Yeti,” I promise, repeating the seductive tone.
“Would you stop saying it like that?”
“Like what? The Yeti—ow!” I squeal, feeling his teeth playfully nip at my throat.
With a soothing kiss over the spot and a smirk of satisfaction, Jonah shifts back to his previous position, his attention on my laptop screen again.
“I called Chris today. He agreed to promote us at their front desk, front and center. I’ve already ordered the pamphlets.” I spent the weeks leading up to our move designing promotional material and now that we have an official address, there’s nothing stopping me from printing.
“Please tell me there aren’t any half-naked pictures of me in them?”
“No! Of course not. That would be totally unprofessional.” I pause. “Those are only for the calendar. I’ve sent one to Andrea. She said she has the perfect place to hang her copy at their front desk.”
Jonah grits his teeth “You better be kidding.”
“Guess you’ll have to find out.” I waggle my eyebrows at him. “Hey, when do you think Phil’s plane will be up and running? I want to take some pictures of it and add it to the fleet page.”
He shakes his head. “Who knows? I couldn’t even get the engine to turn when I tried earlier. I’m not thinking about that right now, though, not when I’ve got two reliable planes to choose from. Well, semi-reliable. Veronica’s gas gauge is acting up.” When he sees the concerned look on my face, he quickly adds, “It’s no big deal. I have to pay closer attention. I’ll get it fixed as soon as I find a mechanic around here I trust to look at it.”
I force away the fear of Jonah’s engine stalling midair because he’s run out of gas. “Speaking of mechanics, the blue snowmobile sounds like it wants to die.”
Jonah sighs. “We’ll have to get that fixed, too.”
I curl up against his side, craving his body heat. “I want to go into Wasilla tomorrow to do some shopping, so maybe we can ask around?”
“More shopping? For what?”
“Stuff.”
His eyebrow arches. “Stuff?”
“House stuff.” I shrug. “Maybe something to go with the couch? I’ll let you know when I find it.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll be gone most of the day tomorrow. I’m gonna do a run to Unalakleet.”
I frown. That’s far in the west, if I remember correctly. “For what?”
“A possible TB outbreak.”
“TB?” My voice fills with alarm. “Isn’t that, like, highly contagious?” And, I thought, eradicated?
“It can be. The doc doing rounds there called while you were in the bath to see if I can pick up an X-ray machine from Anchorage. Aro is backlogged and Nome doesn’t have one to spare. They’re telling him they can’t make the run for at least another week. He’s got two sick kids he’s worried about and a half dozen more people who aren’t doing too good.” Jonah doesn’t sound nearly rattled enough by this.
“Can’t you call Howard and yell at him to make this a priority?” That’s what Jonah’s good at, according to my dad—shaking trees until the fruit falls.
“I could, but the doc and I go way back, and it’s business for me. It’s supposed to be clear for another day before the snow starts again. Good time to go.”
Not that that can’t change in an instant, from everything I’ve learned about Alaska. I push that worry aside. “I thought you were going to focus on this side of the state.”
“Eventually. Right now, I need to take whatever I can get. Plus, these villagers know and trust me to help them out. I will, whenever I can.”
“Why don’t I come with you, then?”
He shakes his head. “I might have to fly those kids to the hospital.”
“Right. Well … I guess I’ll wait to go shopping, then.” It’ll be the first day since we moved here that Jonah’s flying anywhere. An unexpected pang of longing for tomorrow night hits. I wish I could hit a button and fast-forward until then.
I really need to book my road test soon.
Jonah pushes the laptop closed and sets it on the nightstand. We’re using Phil and Colette’s old mismatched bedroom furniture, save for the mattress, until I can find a set I like to replace it.
I let out a heavy, dramatic sigh. “I guess I’ll just hang out here … all alone.”
Jonah reaches back and pulls his T-shirt up over his head, revealing the web of muscle that fans his back, his broad, hard chest, and the ridges in his taut abs. He tosses the shirt haphazardly toward the corner, missing the hamper entirely. I know that before bed tonight, he’ll get out of bed to move it back. He’s a closeted neat freak. “You’re not alone. You’ve got Bandit and Zeke.”
I pause in my admiring gawk of his upper body to shoot him a look. Jonah has been single-handedly dealing with our livestock problem. I have yet to even venture to the pen, let alone bond with my childhood nemesis.
He pulls the tie on my robe and, with a casual flick of his wrist, throws both sides wide open. I feel his heated gaze drag over my naked flesh as if he were touching me with his fingertips. “There’s plenty to keep yourself busy with around here all day while I’m gone.”
“Like what?” I shiver from the cold against my bare skin, even while my body begins to fire with the promise of what’s coming.
He works our comforter out from beneath my body and back up, covering my lower half. “Oh, you know …” He slides over to press his body against mine, the feel of his hot skin against me pulling a soft moan from my lips. He’s wearing boxer briefs, a problem I hope to fix momentarily. “Make sure the house is clean and warm for me when I come home …” He brushes his lips along my jawline. “Wash and fold my laundry …” His lips find my neck. “Cook me dinner …”
I school my expression—Jonah knows the mere suggestion of catering to him like a 1950s housewife will get a reaction from me—and respond with, “Maybe I’ll order those tables. You know, the ones I showed you yesterday?”
“Nope. Don’t remember,” he murmurs, but the flash of recognition on his face before his head dips down and his mouth closes over a peaked nipple says otherwise.
I inhale sharply, his teasing tongue sparking heat between my legs. “From that store in Seattle. The live-edge ones that cost a grand each, and you said a person would have to be a moron or certifiable to consider paying that much for a hunk of wood?” I smile as I quote him, weaving my fingers through his ash-blond hair as he shifts his attention to my other breast. Even from this angle, I can see the grimace he’s trying to hide as I push his buttons. “I maxed my card out with that couch, so should I use your Mastercard or your Visa? Which one has more room—ah!”
I squeal with laughter as Jonah moves fast, maneuvering his big body to fit between my thighs.
“It’s a fucking piece of wood that someone slapped lacquer on and screwed four legs to.” He props himself up on his elbows, his brawny arms framing my face. “I’ll make you one for free.”