Page 8 of Bearing North
Sparkle,Alex reminded herself. “There are a lot of areas of the state with no connectivity. It can be a major safety concern.”
She glanced at his profile as he frowned at his phone.
Did he have to be so good-looking? It would be a lot easier to hate him if he was soft and slovenly. But that nose was just the right shape and size on his chiseled face, and every move he made was like music. The muscles in his neck suggested even more treasure beneath the collar of his plaid shirt. He had a mountain man lumberjack look, like he was used to swinging an axe or tossing hay bales.
Dammit, he probablydidlike country music.
Alex forced herself back to concentrating on the road, only speeding a sensible amount. She was glad when he got his phone seamlessly connected to the stereo and put on an 80’s rock mix that had a combination of favorites and tolerable popular songs.
They pulled off at Copper Center, a quaint little historical town with one of the best pipeline viewing stations in the state. She caught Orson looking longingly at the tourist district as they drove past. “If you’re looking for more excursions, the trip to McCarthy is worth making. Plan on overnighting out there.”And maybe don’t drive yourself, she almost added. That road was even rougher than this one and had more arresting views, tighter curves, and steeper drop-offs. She could see Orson driving straight into the river because he was watching the scenery.
He grunted as they pulled into the pipeline station.
They got out and Alex rolled her shoulders. This was early in the trip, but trying to maintain her charade of cheer was taking its toll on her muscles. She’d have to be mindful about stretching and maybe get up early to go jogging.
She nearly walked into Orson’s back, because he’d come to a stop without warning.
“It’s…so big.”
“That’s what she said,” Alex muttered.
7
ORSON
Orson couldn’t contain his shout of laughter when Alexandra said exactly what he’d been thinking, in a complete deadpan. He tried to smother it with a manly harumph and crossed his arms over his chest. “I mean, I can understand the security complications of something like this. It’s right here. We can walk right up and touch it!”
The pipe in this section was above the ground, suspended on tall pilings, and it crept along like a giant multi-legged millipede in a crooked line. The pipe was four feet in diameter, a glistening ribbon of silver into the wilderness. The road went straight up to it, and there was an informational sign with photos of the cross-section as well as diagrams of how the oil was pumped at stations and descriptions of how the piping was periodically cleaned.
“Why isn’t it straight?” Orson blurted, staring in either direction.
“Thermal variance,” Alexandra said promptly. “Metal expands in the heat and shrinks in the cold, and we have massive temperature swings. It can get down to fifty below and up to a hundred above. If it was laid out a straight line, it would buckle and crack. That’s why it’s on those slides, see, not fixed to the piles. It also means it’s more flexible in the case of an earthquake. I mean, tee hee hee, I guess!”
Orson gave her a sideways glance. Why was she pretending to act so stupid? She caught him looking at her and gave him a vapid smile while playing with her hair.
Orson didn’t have to pretend to frown as he turned back to the pipeline. “So, how do you protect something like this? I mean, it’s not fenced in or isolated from the public.” A pair of tourists was taking selfies right in front of it, reaching up to show how tall it was in the photo. “I’d envisioned, like, shifts of guards, but it’s too much to cover with people.”
“We have cameras,” Alexandra said confidently. “And do sweeps remotely. We analyze suspicious behavior and react accordingly. We also monitor current events and news and provide physical presence as required. It’s all very clearly laid out in our contract, every eventuality, and it’s as much research and anticipation as it is reaction.”
Orson gave her another sideways glance. Her eyes had narrowed, and her scowl was as good as any of his brothers’.
Alex Vex. She was the one who had negotiated the contract. She was the one who’d made the business competitive. The more he learned about the job, the more Orson realized exactly what that meant. She wasn’t just sexy, she was smart, and it turned him on as much as her long legs and sweet denim-clad ass.
So why would she keep giggling and dumbing herself down?
She was a puzzle. An enticing, enchanting puzzle that was making his pants not fit.
“We’re still several hours from Tok,” she reminded him. “Tee hee hee. We should get going.”
She kept up the bubbly tour guide act for a few more miles before they lapsed into silence while Orson’s playlist cycled through rock songs and nostalgia.
There were a lot of trees in Alaska, he realized as they drove. Alotof trees.
They weren’t the towering shady monstrosities of California, or the dense, lush forests of the American South.
They were quirky and mid-sized, scraggly spruces mixed with soft-looking deciduous trees. The lower slopes of the mountains were covered with them, and when they had elevation, Orson could see that the forest stretched out almost forever. Alaska wasbig.
That’s what she said.
