Page 21 of A Rebel's Shot

He settled back in his chair with a cocky, exaggerated casualness.

She swallowed her laugh and continued. “Or it’s probably more like putting the camera at just the right angle to make your hunting and fishing successes look like trophies instead of barely legal to lure more clients in.”

He nodded and leaned forward.

“So, it’s the aviators that draw the ladies in? Good to know.” He rubbed his beard. “I always figured it was my rugged, chiseled jaw.”

She rolled her eyes and chuckled. “It’s something.”

In truth it wasn’t just one thing about him that attracted her. His entire presence was a wrapped package of confident masculinity she’d always been drawn to.

Not alphahole toxic.

But a calm presence that broadcasted competence and trustworthiness. That whatever situation came up, he could handle it.

She’d witnessed men like him in the heart of the refugee camps and disasters. They were the ones she put in charge. They weren’t without fault, but when things fell apart, they could hold it together long enough to shore up the cracks.

The friendly Korean owner took their order. Over dinner, Merritt convinced him that since he was already at the mine all day, getting paid extra to do guard duty was a no-brainer.

Tiikâan told Merritt funny hunting stories about getting chased by moose and dive-bombing ducks. She recounted her work abroad.

Over two hours and amazing tempura and hot pie with melting dairy-free ice cream later, the frigid loneliness that had chilled her blood since she landed in Barrow thawed, leaving her mind quieter than it had been in years.

Tiikâan scratched at the bandage on his arm.

“What happened?” She pointed her apple pie loaded fork at his arm, then fairly moaned when she took the bite.

Paka was right. The pie was the best she’d ever had.

“A grizzly mistook me for the bait at my stand.”

The pie turned to gravel in her mouth. She swallowed, but it almost didn’t make it down her throat. Her hand shook as she set the fork down with a clatter.

“What?” she wheezed out through tight lungs.

“I was at my bear bait stand. Planned on taking it down, but ended up in the tree, hunting one last time before this new contract flying an uppity oil heiress started. You know, one last go before the pendulum of pain and boredom.”

He winked, shoved a bite of pie in his mouth, and talked around it. “I was just getting ready to climb down when a scratching noise sounded right below me. When I looked over the edge of the tree stand, a big ol’ boy stared right up at me.”

“No.”

“Yeah.”

Then he told her the most horrific, unbelievably insane story she’d ever heard.

She pushed herself into the chair like the bear was going to come stalking out of the kitchen behind Tiikâan. Her body trembled from head to toe. A tingling spread through her chest. She tried to take a deep breath to calm the heck down, but she couldn’t.

Which pissed her off.

She didn’t want to be this damsel in distress. It wasn’t even like the bear was there stalking her. Sure, polar bears would wander Barrow’s streets and everyone would get inside, but that wasn’t the case at the moment. She was just––how had her dad always put it?

Your mind is like a wild well right now, gushing fearand panic. It’s time to cap that well and get your head straight.

She could hear her dad’s voice clear as day in her head, and tears blurred her vision. She blinked and gritted her teeth.

“Hey.” Tiikâan reached across the table and placed his hand over her clenched fist. “What’s going on?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” she said. “I just… don’t like bears.”

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