Chapter Twenty-One

Spending his day grounded at the airfield never put Trace in a good mood. Having Lenna practically force-feed him some kind of evil kale, wheatgrass, and protein powder smoothie first thing that morning hadn’t helped.

Receiving a bottle of Powerhouse Men’s High-Performance Vitality Plus multivitamins from Bridget, courtesy of her cargo run to Juneau, also rubbed him the wrong way.

Being blockaded from the maintenance hangar by Wing and Mad with instructions to “take a load off and get that strength and stamina back up,” just made him want to kick their asses to prove there was nothing wrong with his strength or stamina.

When he returned to his office, walking into the seventy-degree sweatbox Izzy had turned it into and saw her typing away at her laptop, black glasses perched on her little nose, fitted black sweater with white shirt collar and cuffs only adding to the sexy librarian look, he decided he needed a change of scenery.

“Izzy?”

She looked up from her screen. “What’s wrong?” The glasses came off and she scrutinized him. “Feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.” He stepped into the office but didn’t close the door. Bored out of my mind. Aiming his best persuasive smile her way, he said, “Let’s take a break.”

Her brows lifted and her lips parted. “A nooner? Really?” Her husky voice and scandalized-yet-intrigued expression worked nicely with her prim outfit. Those big, brown eyes slid down his frame.

Apparently, his persuasive smile worked even better than he knew. Crossing his arms, he braced a shoulder against the doorframe. “Isabelle Marcano, you have a dirty mind.”

Her gaze bounced back to his. “Hey, you’re the one who came in here with your wayward suggestion.”

“Hey, I said ‘a break.’ You, Miss Marcano, are the one who jumped right to naked break.” Not that he minded. At all.

That made her blink. She folded her hands on his desk. “I suppose you’re right. Shame on me.” A lift of her chin conveyed challenge. “What, pray tell, did you have in mind for this break?”

Well, shit. Now he had to think of something that didn’t involve getting naked—at least not straight away. A glance at the sunny afternoon out the window behind her gave him inspiration. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

She looked behind her, then back at him, eyes round and questioning. He extended his arm and gave her a “come on” gesture with his hand, repeating it more insistently when she hesitated.

Finally, she stood and came around the desk. “Nothing too strenuous, all right?”

He took her arm. “Izzy, I promise not to strain you.”

“Not me, you fool. Nothing too strenuous for you. I refuse to be a party to you disregarding doctor’s orders.”

He grabbed her coat from the hook on the back of the door, helped her into it, then put his hand at the small of her back to encourage her into the hall. “Nothing too strenuous for either of us. A little outdoor education. That’s all. The fresh air will do us good.”

“Okay, then.” She let him lead her out of the terminal and to the passenger side of the Yukon. On the drive into town, she updated him on the status of the due diligence requests—assets, liabilities, employee benefits, and so on, and so on. His conscience flinched when she mentioned not finding any files of insurance claims, but she continued to another category, so hopefully it wasn’t too big a deal.

By the time he parked in front of the general store, she’d finished running down her progress, took in their location, and crinkled her brow. “I thought you said outdoor education?”

“Education sometimes requires preparation,” he tossed back to her as he got out of the truck. When he came around and opened her door, she crossed her arms and stayed put. Dark sunglasses shielded her eyes, but he sensed all kinds of wariness coming off her.

“This outdoor education isn’t going to involve me touching worms, or baiting anything, or killing anything, is it?”

“I’ll touch the worms and bait the hooks.” He helped his now-reluctant break buddy down and closed the door. “I’m kidding. We’re not going fishing or anything like that.”

“What are we doing?”

“You’ll see. Wait here for a second.” Noting the way she bit her lip, he added, “And don’t worry. Trust me.”

It only took a moment to go into Watkins and purchase a small bag of cracked corn. He put it in his coat pocket and stepped out to her curious inspection. “What’d you buy?”

“It’s a surprise. Come on.” Taking her hand, he walked with her up the sidewalk toward the inn. The afternoon sun warmed his shoulders. A light breeze blew cotton ball clouds around the endless blue sky and teased the loose tendrils that had escaped from Izzy’s updo. Because he held her hand, he felt it tense when they approached Seward Park. “This way.” With those quiet words, he tugged her gently toward the green space.

She dug her heels in. “Oh, um, I don’t think this is a good place for me.”

“It’s going to be fine,” he promised, and gave her hand another tug.

She fell into step behind him. Like, right behind him, hands gripping the back of his jacket, basically using him as a human shield. After a few steps she pulled him to a stop. “Are they here?” she whispered.

“Who?”

“You know who.”

“There’s nobody else here. Why are we whispering?”

“Because if they are here, I don’t want them to hear us. The geese.”

He couldn’t hold back a smile. Luckily, she couldn’t see it from behind him. “Yes, there’re here, Izzy. They live here.”

“Okay, then. That’s all the outdoor education I need for today. I’ll see you back at the car.”

“Wait.” He caught the back of her coat before she could retreat and reeled her in until he could wrap his arms around her. Leaning in, he murmured, “They’re not going to come after you this time. I promise. I’ll protect you.”

“Look, I know they’re just birds, but they’re big, and they’re fast, and they’ve got those beaks…” She trailed off as he turned her, slid her sunglasses up to the top of her head, and looked into her eyes.

“Come on, city girl. You can do this. In fact, before we’re done, you’re going to be completely charmed by our feathered friends.”

“I doubt that. Seriously.” She looked past him, toward the pond. “You promise they won’t attack?”

“I’ve got a secret weapon.” So saying, he steered them toward the closest split-log bench circling the pond.

The mention of a weapon seemed to reassure her—slightly. “Oh God. Okay. Oh God. There they are.” Moving cautiously, she slowly lowered to sit beside him on the bench. Her fingers dug into his forearm. “They’re looking at us. They see us!”

“’Course they do.” He extended his legs, crossed his ankles, and draped an arm along the back of the bench. “They can see 180 degrees horizontally and vertically, which is pretty amazing when you think about it. They have excellent hearing, too, and can distinguish a mate’s call from hundreds of yards away.”

“They can see us. They can hear us.” She gave a little shudder. “Jesus. Oh, no.” Her fingers tightened on his arm. “One’s coming.”

“Yep.” He took the bag of dry corn from his pocket, opened the Ziploc and held it out to Izzy. “Go ahead and reward his curiosity.”

She glanced down at the bag. “What? Do what?”

“Just scoop a small handful”—he demonstrated—“and toss it toward the pond.” Using an underhand technique, he scattered the corn several feet away, between their bench and the bank of the pond. The frontrunner goose stepped closer to feed and several more waddled up from the waterline, honking, to get in on the action.

“Don’t do that. They’re coming. They’re all coming. We’re going to be surrounded.”

“They’re just coming for the food.” He kept his voice calm and even as he stroked his free hand along her shoulder. “Those are all males. Toss them some.”

She did as he asked, though she threw the feed overhand, aiming for closer to the pond. Her strategy was to keep them close to the water, but the breeze didn’t cooperate, and her kernels landed around his.

“Keep tossing. We’ll need a lot to get the full show. Ah, here come the gals.”

She tossed handfuls of feed like her life depended on it. “How can you tell the difference?”

“The males have longer necks and bigger heads.”

“They all look the same to me.” She said this out of the corner of her mouth, as if worried they’d hear, understand, and get offended. “Lord here come more. Oh…oh my goodness.” Her hand stilled mid-toss as a jumble of small yellow puffballs scurried up the bank. “Babies.”

“Uh-huh.” Another smile pulled at his lips. Did women train up on how to say that word with the same reverent inflection? Baby geese. Baby dear. Baby whales. Even baby bears. All generated the same adoring tones from females of the human variety.

“They’re so cute. So fluffy. Gosh, there’s so many of them.”

“Canadian Geese mate from mid-winter to early spring, and the goslings hatch about a month later, so we’re in the thick of things right now. That’s why the geese reacted so territorially when you wandered in here. Lots of nests to protect. Lots of incubating eggs and fresh-hatched babies.”

She resumed tossing feed and watching the full-grown geese lead the little ones up, then surround them so they could eat within the protection of the adults. “They seem really well-tended by the flock.”

“Yeah.” He turned to her, ran a finger along the graceful curve at the nape of her neck. “I can’t speak for all geese, but this species is monogamous. Not just for the season. For life.”

She looked over at him, a slight smile teasing her lips. “Really? That seems…rare.”

He returned her smile but shook his head. “Not here.” He tapped her dangling pearl earring with a fingertip and sent it rocking back and forth, refracting sunlight. “A lot of animals up here mate for life.”

Her soft smile faded as her lips parted. Dark eyes stared into his for a long moment, quiet but for goose calls. “You don’t say,” she finally managed.

He touched her earlobe. “It’s a fact.” Leaning in, he lowered his voice. “Are you charmed, Izzy?”

A particularly loud honk made her start, pulled her attention to the feeding geese in time to watch an adult herd a recalcitrant gosling back into the fold. When she looked at him again, pink tinged her cheeks. “I am charmed,” she admitted, then held up the empty bag in her hand. “I’m also out of goose food. Are we going to have to make a run for it?”

“Nah. They’re busy and we’re not a threat. We just stand up”—he did so and then brought her to her feet—“and walk away.” Arm around her shoulders, he strolled with her toward Main Street.

“Thank you for the outdoor education,” she said when they reached the sidewalk. Turning to face him, she went on, “Next time I encounter a flock of wild geese, I won’t have a panic attack. Probably.”

“You’re welcome, and I’m glad. Probably.”

“So, what now? Back to work?”

Not if he could help it. He pulled her into his arms, tipped her face to his. “I was sort of hoping we could drive over to the inn, sneak up to your room, and—”

“You were angling for that nooner all along, weren’t you?”

The gold glints in her brown eyes told him she saw right through him. “I was going to say sneak up to your room and quiz you on the mating habits of Captivity’s wild geese.”

Her laugh said she wasn’t buying it. “You were not, you big liar.”

He couldn’t resist that open, smiling face. “I said it before. I’ll say it again. Miss Marcano, you have a dirty mind.” Before she could argue that conclusion, he leaned in and kissed her. Kissed the smile and the cotton candy ChapStick right off her lips. Kissed her until her arms encircled his neck and held tight, so he could feel her heart pounding in time with his own. When he eased away, she lifted those long eyelids of hers, looked at him from beneath her eyelashes. “My dirty mind tells me you want to quiz me on the mating habits of one of Captivity’s more evolved mammals.”

“Maybe more than a quiz,” he admitted. “It might require a demonstration. A detailed one.”

“Good news.” She smiled and took his hand. “Turns out I’m an excellent student.”

“You’ll need to be.” He walked her leisurely to the car. “These mating habits I have in mind qualify as advanced study.”

Her lips twitched. “This could take some time.”

It could indeed, Izzy. It could take the rest of our lives.