Page 23 of Bearing North
Alex woke up much later feeling dizzy and a lot less amused, and staggered to the bathroom. She drank several tiny cups of water from the tap, and stared at her reflection.
What was she doing, drinking with Orson Davison, thinking about having kids with him and teaching them to ride 10-speeds? She was getting drunk with him at a bar and laughing? It was wrong on every level.
And Alex wasn’t that good at being wrong.
19
ORSON
The more he got to know her, the more Alex Vex impressed Orson.
She had tucked down more whiskey than he realized humans were capable of, and he hadn’t even noticed she was getting drunk until she tried to stand. It took all his willpower not to crawl into bed with her after tucking her in, but he didn’t want her to have morning regrets.
Orson guessed she had them anyway by the wince she gave when he greeted her and the fact that she was wearing sunglasses at breakfast. He had to give her credit for being no less grumpy than usual, though she was clearly toughing out a wicked hangover. She had showered, but Orson could still smell the whiskey in her pores. He wasn’t sure many people would have been standing the morning after like she was.
And even hung over, she was absolutely gorgeous. Orson was half-regretting his chivalry, because the morning wood he’d woken up with hadn’t gone anywhere. It was distracting, how hot she made him. He suspected she would laugh if she knew how much she bothered him. Orson almost told her because he loved hearing her laugh. Hertruelaugh.
“I’m going to check out the gift shop before we go,” Orson said as she sucked down a second cup of hotel-quality coffee like it might cure her.
“I’ll make sure the truck is good to go,” she said, giving him a careless wave.
Orson considered kissing her and decided he didn’t want to risk having her punch him in public. He hadsomedignity to maintain.
She caught his wrist as he passed her. “Orson…”
Kiss?
“Thanks. For last night.Thanks.” She let go and returned her attention to her coffee.
There was undoubtedly something graceful and profound that Orson could have said. “That’s what she said,” He quipped.
Alex nearly snorted up her coffee trying not to laugh, and Orson went away feeling triumphant. Even if this wasn’t exactly as he’d seen the courtship of his mate going, he felt like he’d done the right thing, thenoblething, and they were closer now than ever. Orson had told her stories he’d never told anyone, and she had opened up like a blooming flower. He fell harder in love with her with every word she spoke.
The hotel gift shop was impressive, with an entire section dedicated to bears. Orson picked out tacky tourist presents for each of his brothers, and a plushy for Peter’s wife, who was expecting a baby. He impulsively added a jade bear pawprint necklace for Alex, even if she didn’t seem like the type to wear a necklace. He just loved the idea of putting his mark on her, and the necklace seemed more likely to go over well with her than a bracelet or a ring. Orson wondered if she’d ever consider a tattoo. He knew from experience that her tanned skin had no decoration besides scars and freckles.
He remembered Alex saying there were no amenities between Fairbanks and Deadhorse, so he added a bunch of overpriced road trip snacks to his bill—honey-roasted peanuts, salmon jerky, a few bottles of water, and some gourmet chocolates.
With his arms full, he checked them out of the hotel and went to meet Alex at the truck.
20
ALEX
“You have to be quieter, Sandra.” At the best of times, Sandra could be pretty shrill.
And this was not the best of times.
Alex still had her sunglasses on, and she had forced herself to eat the toast and ham from the hotel breakfast before leaving Orson in the gift shop so she could get the truck ready for the last part of their trip.
“Are you hung over?” Sandra demanded, no less quietly.
“Maybe a little,” Alex admitted.
“Did you get drunk?” Sandra asked in astonishment. “Alex, you don’t get drunk. You’re the prude keeping everyoneelsefrom getting stupid.”
She wasn’t wrong, even if shewasannoying. Alex never trusted anyone else to keep the party from ending in regrets, so she always drank just enough and never more, confident that she could hold her liquor better than anyone else, anyway.
And Orson Davison hadeffortlesslydrunk her under the table.
