Page 28 of Bearing North
The second time they woke, they peeled apart reluctantly and packed to leave before the hotel could kick them out. They ate energy bars and made love one last time instead of having breakfast out.
Orson paused at the desk as they were checking out and put his nose in the air. He looked suspiciously after someone leaving hastily, pulling the hood of a sweatshirt that seemed too heavy for the warm day up over a ballcap.
“What is it?” Alex asked. The stranger’s behavior was odd, but the further north you went, the weirder people got. Her whole body had a pleasant hum of satisfaction, and she wasn’t on the job, so she was happy to let it slide.
Orson shrugged and looked at the clerk, who seemed to have missed his bloodhound act. “Probably nothing.”
They checked out and went out to the truck. Orson walked around to the driver’s side, and for a moment Alex wondered if he was going to insist on driving. Was it some kind of macho thing where after wild hot sex, he had to be all alpha?
But no, he only opened the door for her like a gentleman. Alex paused to kiss him gratefully, then got in and started the truck. Orson paused to sniff the air again with a furrow to his brow, then climbed into the passenger seat and turned on the music.
The road north was so noisy with gravel that it was driving and conversation, or driving and music, but not both.
They stopped at the last tree north and Orson snapped a photo of Alex with the standing dead spruce. “This is only the last tree until we’re down over the pass, right?”
Alex shook her head. “Nope, this is the very last tree from here to the coast. The climate is too brutal past the mountains for them to live. There are some scrubby alder and willows, but nothing more from here to the north pole.”
“The real north pole, not that Christmas city monstrosity?”
“Don’t cast shade on our kooky, festive community,” Alex warned him, punching him in the arm. “C’mon, it’s starting to rain and the pass can get sloppy if it’s wet. I don’t want to have to rush.”
Alaska wasn’t always blue sunny skies, but Alex thought it had a certain crazy beauty, even when it was socked in with low clouds and faded with light rain. At this time of year, the slopes were blanketed in rich green and fingers of white snow still lingered on the peaks. Orson stared as they drove higher and higher into the mountains and whistled at the avalanche warning signs. “That’s not a danger now, is it?” he said.
“Not so much,” Alex said shortly, concentrating on the road.
She wasn’t entirely happy with how the truck was handling, though she couldn’t put her finger on what was wrong. She considered getting out and checking it over, just for peace of mind, but they’d gotten a late start, and the rain was getting heavier. It was comfortable in the dry cab with Orson, lulled by the afterglow of their long night of hot sex.
She turned the windshield speed up a notch to improve visibility and turned off the music. “We haven’t talked about what happens next. Do we tell people at the office?”
“Oh!” Orson said with all the excitement of a kid finding a prize in a cereal box. “What if I do a big showy proposal in the middle of our first staff meeting? I’ll get a ring, go down on one knee…”
“I’m glad you suggested that now so I could tell youhell no,” Alex said honestly. “That is not the kind of spectacle I appreciate. Business meetings are for business, not romance.”
Orson pouted.
Alex took pity on him. “I’d rather just show up with a ring.”
He brightened. “Let them draw their own conclusions? Do I get to kiss you at work?”
“I’m not a public displays of affection sort of person,” she confessed.
“Can I kiss you in your office with the door closed?” Orson countered.
“I share an office with the surveillance department now,” Alex reminded him.
“Oh, you are definitely getting your office back. I don’t need an office. I’ll stay home with the kids.”
“We didn’t decide for sure on kids,” she cautioned. “And this assumes I marry you at all.”
“Will you?” Orson begged. “Kids optional, will you marry me? I love you, Alex Vex.”
Alex felt cheated having this conversation while she had to concentrate on the road. It was getting narrow and windy. They had just crossed the crest of the pass and were starting downhill, a view of the north slope starting to open up between the mountains. The road was wet now, with little rivers of silty water between the gravel.
Just as Orson said, “Not to be a backseat driver, but should you be going this fast?” a warning light appeared on the dashboard.
The brake pedal, which had been increasingly spongy since Coldfoot, went straight to the floor without slowing them.
“Shit.” Alex wished she’d absorbed a better swearing vocabulary from some of her more colorful employees, because it felt rather weak as she turned into another curve, entirely too fast. A semi barreled up the road toward them, narrowing the road to a single lane. She struggled to keep the truck in their allotted space as it passed, spitting gravel and honking.
