Page 77 of One Last Chance

The flame lit to inferno and he deepened the kiss.

He didn’t have a hope of sleeping after this.

She tasted of toothpaste, fresh and inviting, and he wanted more of her. So much more. So he scooped her up, then walked back and sat on the nearest Adirondack chair, her arms still around his neck.

She made a tiny sound and leaned back, met his eyes. “I’m not sure what you’re thinking there, Jack, but this is not the backseat scene in the movie, so don’t think of getting handsy.”

“I’m going to be honest and say that was the only scene I liked.”

“I’ll bet.”

He lifted both hands. “But I’ll keep them where you can see them, to quote my favorite ornery detective.”

“I still have the bear gun.”

“No, actually you don’t.”

She wrinkled her nose, then slid her hands into his, wove her fingers between his. “Please don’t make me fall in love with you.”

“Then you should stop kissing me. Because you’ve seen my press. People all over the world love me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Fine. I’ll chance it.”

“Attagirl.” Then he pulled her close and kissed her again, the midnight sun shining over him, the rush of the Copper River cheering in the distance.

* * *

He didn’t know why he’d brought the dumb chicken box along.

Moose stood in the light of the refrigerator, staring at the cardboard container.

No, staring at the stupid red heart. The one between his name and hers. Like they might be in middle school and she’d scrawled it in her notebook and he’d gotten a peek.

It made the small part of his heart that was indeed still in middle school thump, hard, against his ribs.

Almost painfully.

But the rest of him, the all-grown-up-and-learned-lessons-in-love-the-hard-way part of his heart, shut the door of the refrigerator.

The chicken had probably gone bad anyway, sitting in his duffle bag all day. He’d grabbed it from the counter as Axel kitted up, as Flynn read the map on the wall, and suffered an insane swell of jealousy.

He missed the Skyport.

No, he missed Tillie. And her beautiful brown eyes, and that teasing smile, and that mane of dark hair.

He should never have asked her out and screwed up the entire thing.

Movement out in the yard made him glance over, through the kitchen window.

He stilled.

They were at it again. For the love . . . And now Axel picked Flynn up and sat down with her on the chair overlooking the river.

Parking them there.

He turned away, refusing to be a voyeur.

Axel deserved a little happiness, but Flynn had come out of nowhere. Still, according to Axel, she’d been a lifeline to him.

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