Love Grows in Alaska (The Washington Triplets) Read online

  “I’m not really an outdoors kind of gal,” I admit.

  “Hmm, maybe you just haven’t had the right person to show you how to appreciate it,” he says. “Who knows, maybe this weekend you’ll have some great tour guide that can show you some new things you never thought you’d love.” If I was Mya, I’d be snarky and flirt back with a comment about him showing me some new things, but sadly, I’m not Mya.

  “Doubtful, but I love your optimism,” I comment, and a huge smile encases his lips.

  “Well, enjoy King’s Gate; it’s a beautiful area.” Zach begins to walk out the opening, back into the airport. I miss him already.

  “Thank you,” I call out and he turns around.

  “Anytime.” The one side of his lips turn up and then he’s gone, leaving my body in a fiery state of desire.

  “Ready?” Pete asks, his voice clearly annoyed.

  “Um … yeah,” I say, tossing my paper cup into the trashcan.

  “You were doing so well, Marisa,” he comments as I walk past him.

  “Yeah, well, tomorrow’s another day.” I roll my eyes as he follows behind me.

  A HALF-HOUR LATER, WE arrive at King’s Gate after Libby ignoring me, Wes baiting me with derogatory comments and Pete constantly pawing me. “Can you please stop texting Camden?” I ask, exasperated with her incessant typing.

  Libby’s fingers fly around her cell phone screen, not even giving me the courtesy of looking in my direction. “I haven’t been away from him in three years.”

  “It’s only been like,” I glance at my watch, “four hours, Lib. Your normal workday is longer.” I grab my suitcase from the curb and hand the driver a tip.

  Leaving Libby standing by her suitcase, I shake my head and enter the lobby of King’s Gate Resort. I gasp as my eyes flicker from the warm, dark mahogany wooden walls, mixed with modern plated lighting floating down from the ceiling. I had imagined something rustic and dirty, not the inviting lobby that makes me wish I could take off my shoes and sit in front of the fire all day with a good book. Wheeling my suitcase, I walk down the carpeted way to the long desk with three blue-uniformed employees poised at their stations, ready to help us. Pete, Wes and I each walk up to one and give our information while Libby stays back typing on her phone. The three turn their attention to their keyboards and soon the clicking of keystrokes is all I can hear.

  Once I’m finished, Libby steps up, finally having put her phone away. Temporarily I’m sure. The three of us wait at the elevators while she checks in. Wes sighing every minute, me tapping my toes and Pete rambling on about some tourist area around here. An exhausting five minutes later, Libby struts toward us displaying a huge smile.

  We all face the elevator and Wes hits the elevator button. We silently enter the elevator and I turn toward Libby. “Why so happy now?” I ask her.

  “Camden may come up for a few days. He can just stay in the room while we do whatever we have to do.” She shrugs and Wes’s head whips around as he narrows his eyes at her. Seriously, what is up with these two?

  “Haven’t you seen the itinerary? We’re gone more than we’re here,” Pete chimes in while invading my personal space once again.

  “I glanced over it at the office.” Libby pulls her phone out again and I swipe it from her hands.

  “I’m about to keep this thing hostage.” I hold it up in the air and then Pete grabs it from my clutches before Wes snags it out of Pete’s. A small laugh escapes and I smile remembering my sisters and I doing the same thing to each other over the years.

  “Come on.” Libby’s shoulders slouch and she tries reaching Wes’s hands, but Wes, being six-three, give or take, leaves her petite stature at a severe disadvantage. “Wes,” she sighs and he stares down at her and the smirk falls from his face.

  “Libby, just enjoy your time away,” he tells her and relents by handing her the phone. I’ve never seen this look on Wes before, almost sorrow.

  “Mind your own business,” she says through clenched teeth, piercing her eyes at him.

  “Whatever.” He turns his attention back to the elevator walls and Libby retreats back to me while Pete and I share a puzzled look. I’m not sure what the hell is wrong with these two, if I didn’t know better … nah, I quickly shake it off. No way.

  With all four of us standing outside our row of rooms, Pete calls over his shoulder, “See you tonight at dinner.” The three of us moan before the beeps of us inserting our keycards echoes through the hallway and we each escape through them.

  A relieved breath leaves my lips with the click of the knob behind me. Leaning against the door, I absorb the solitude that’s mine for the next few hours before having to endure another grueling time with my co-workers. I sink into the pillow-top mattress and the first vision that encompasses me are those blue eyes. Wishing like hell I could forget how they seemed to be seeing a different person within me than others do.

  I flip up into a sitting position, rubbing my palms in my eyes, as though they’ll disappear from my memory. But two times in less than a week enabled me to memorize the blue irises, so light and pure. The way they followed my fidgeting and desperately tried to assure me he was someone I could trust. If only he’d come along before Nate, before I was stripped of my faith in men.

  Four hours later, I’m entering the archway into the restaurant of the hotel. Figuring I have no one to impress, I kept my jeans and sweater on from earlier. Pete immediately waves me over to him and Wes, as though his eyes have been glued to the door, waiting for me. I really need to nip this in the bud.

  Wes glances over his shoulder, eyeing it’s me and then turns back around to the bar. Pete swivels around on the stool as I get closer and I quickly grab the seat next to Wes. A young blonde bartender saunters by, throwing a pair of flirty eyes Wes’s way while placing a napkin in front of me. Then she smiles, giving me her attention. “What can I get you?”

  “Um …” I glance at the wooden plaque in front of me stating their microbrews. “I’ll just have a golden light.” I point and she nods before pulling a glass from the shelf and tipping it to the spout.

  “When Libby gets here we can grab a table,” Pete tells me.

  “We can eat at the bar,” I say and Wes laughs, looking at me from the corner of his eye with obvious agreement.

  “No. The company’s paying; let’s at least have a nice dinner. Did you check out the itinerary?” Pete questions for the umpteenth time since we found out about this little excursion.

  “You do realize, you’re the only one that’s excited about being here?” Wes cocks an eyebrow to Pete who shrugs.

  “You guys, we get a week off of work. Stay in a nice resort, eat nice meals and go on great adventures. What’s not to be excited about?” He holds his hands out in the air and shrugs his shoulders, not understanding our distress over being here.

  “So I take it you didn’t see day four and five of the itinerary?” Wes asks Pete. I snicker under my breath, and thank the waitress for my drink. “We have to camp out for the night. Just us four. Some plane is going to drop us off in the middle of nowhere and come back the next morning.” Shit, I didn’t even notice that. A whole night with Pete’s wandering eyes and light touches. Libby better be prepared, she’ll be by my side the entire time.

  “Really?” Pete’s eyes widen, but alarms go off in my head that it’s more excitement than anything.

  “Really,” Wes confirms to him.

  I sip my beer, mindlessly watching the television in the corner showing sports that I don’t really care about. Wes and Pete discuss whatever the peppy blonde is rambling on about. My mind drifts back to Chicago and how Nate was always at some fantasy football get-together around this season. Rarely was he ever at home on game nights, and if he was, his eyes were glued to the television. His disappearance was the rise to most of our fights since I couldn’t understand the time and money spent on something so ridiculous. Maybe if he would have tried a little harder on the other days, I wouldn’t have cared, but n
othing changed his mean streak.

  “Let’s go.” Wes’s loud voice in my ear brings me back to the present. Grabbing my beer, I follow Wes to a table with Pete behind me. I wave Libby over from the hostess stand and she smiles. “About time,” Wes sneers and I glance at him from the corner of my eye before I realize Pete has the chair out for me.

  “Thanks, Pete,” I say, inwardly rolling my eyes at his chivalrous gestures. It’s a nice change of pace to have someone treat me so kind, but I worry he has ulterior motives that will never be fulfilled.

  Once we’re all seated, I hide behind my menu, already annoyed to be here and it’s only the first day. The three discuss the meals they chose and having decided on a salmon dish, I place my menu back down on the table.

  Libby’s mood has completely turned around. She’s chipper and inviting while her phone is tucked away in her purse. Rambling on and on about the adventure tomorrow. I narrow my eyes at her from across the table, but she just shrugs and raises her eyebrows. Did I take a nap and come down to a completely different group of co-workers?

  “Excuse me,” I tell them, placing my napkin on the table and standing up.

  Pete goes to stand up and I shoo him back down with my hand. The restaurant is more vacant than I would have assumed at this time. Then again, it’s the middle of the week. It could be most of their business happens around the weekend or ski season.

  Eyeing the restrooms sign, I walk that way. Just as I’m passing the bar, the bartender shrills, “You’re back!” She flings the bar top open and rushes to a guy, her arms wrapping around his neck. My eyes divert to the tall man she’s hugging and jealousy that she’s found her one and only rises slightly in the deep part of my belly.

  The man holds her tight before they part and he kisses her on the forehead. Such a small act of affection for a couple. I used to be lucky if Nate would hold my hand in public. I inwardly laugh just imagining if I would have ever run up to him like that. Quietly walking by the couple to give them privacy, I escape into the bathroom to grab a hold of my bearings.

  Staring into the mirror, I latch on to every ounce of strength I have left while pushing Nate far from my mind. Trying to remember I’m not those things he said. I am attractive and worthy of a love far greater than he ever gave me. My mom’s words ring to memory. “Marisa baby, you are so beautiful. Never listen to anyone else.” She had placed her hand over my heart. “Listen here, it’s the only place that leads you to where you need to go.”

  Pushing back the tears that are threatening to prick, I repeat again that I will find love and it will be a hell of a lot better than Nate’s conditional love. I pull my phone out of my purse and check my email for any word from my sisters. Because, as thoughts of my mom come, the sorrow of my relationship with them follows. I love them and wish we were closer, like when we were younger.

  A flicker of bliss lightens up in me when I spot Mya’s name, but with one word, no, it quickly diminishes. Neither one of them have a desire to go back home and I get the reason why. I’m not thrilled to see Dad marry a whore who wormed her way into my parents’ marriage, but at the same time you’d think sisters could come together at a time like this. Stuffing the phone back in my pocket, more annoyed than when I entered, I push the restroom door open and mumble to myself as I walk down the short hallway. My internal thoughts ranting about my sisters, my mom’s death, my dad’s upcoming marriage, I never realize where I am heading until I slam into a hard body and stumble back a few steps. “So sorry, please excuse me,” I politely say, weaving around the person.

  A hand wraps gently around my wrist, stopping me from moving forward. “Marisa Washington?” I freeze at the deep voice I only heard hours ago. Forcing my eyes to look up, my stomach flips when they find the gorgeous Zach Greer standing in front of me.

  “Zach,” I murmur and then try to compose myself as much as I can. As my body thaws slightly from the shock of seeing him again, I feel his fingertips rubbing back and forth along the inside of my wrist. It’s calming and comforting instead of creepy like it should be. I’ve met him twice and his touch doesn’t bother me a bit, whereas if Pete’s hand brushes along mine, I swipe it back like he’s a mosquito.

  He smiles down to me and I notice there’s no sign of surprise in those blue hues. “Why am I the only one surprised here?” I ask him, tilting my head to the side and a billowing easy going laugh erupts from his mouth.

  “You caught me. I figured I may run into you,” he admits and my eyes must give away my hesitation that it hasn’t been a coincidence running into one another again. “I mean King’s Gate isn’t huge and I fly a lot of the tour customers to their destinations. Not that I intentionally followed you here … I didn’t know you’d stay here. I mean I kind—” he adorably rambles. I could become accustomed to a hot guy being nervous around me.

  “It’s okay. I understand,” I interrupt and nervously twist a strand of my long dark hair around my finger.

  “So, you’re staying here?” he asks, shoving his hands in his pockets and casually leaning against the wall.

  “I’m not so sure I should tell you,” I kid, and that mouth opens up in the most amazing smile with perfectly white teeth. Tell me this man has a fault.

  “I have ways of finding out.” He winks and my stomach flutters at the thought that he may be attracted to me like I am to him.

  “Hmm … maybe I should make you use those ways.” I boldly take a step to him. Not sure why this foreign cat and prey act is coming out of me. I’ve never been one to make a move on a guy, much less someone as out of my league as Zach Greer. Pushing off the wall, he takes a step and my pulse quickens.

  “Be careful, before you know it, I’ll be at your hotel door.” He takes a hold of my finger and releases it from my hair. We are chest-to-chest and my usual guarded self vanished at some point during this impromptu meeting, because the only thing I want are his lips on mine. To feel the warmth of his tongue with mine, his hands on my hips, drawing me closer.

  “Maybe I wouldn’t mind,” I softly say and one side of his lips turn up as our eyes fixate on one another’s. This current forms from him to me and I boldly wait for him to push this further. My heart races, wanting him to entice me to do something I’ve never done, to push me to give in to my impulses that I always deny.

  “Today would be nice, Marisa,” Wes sneers as he passes us going to the bathroom.

  “Boyfriend?” Zach asks, not stepping back from me.

  “Co-worker,” I answer, admiring those blue eyes that haunt me.

  “Go to dinner, Marisa. I’ll be at the bar when you finish so I can buy you a drink.” Then he turns on his heel and leaves me standing there with my heart racing and a pool of moisture between my legs. What the hell?

  Once I get to the table, the two of them stare at me like some science experiment. “What?” I say, my heart still calming.

  “Why are you so pink?” Pete stupidly asks, and Libby bites the inside of her cheek and looks over her shoulder.

  My eyes dart in the direction of where Zach’s leaning against the bar, his hands in his pockets again, his eyes poised on me. Libby notices and then she turns my way and silently asks me who that is.

  “Isn’t that the guy from the airport?” Pete asks.

  “Yeah, I guess he runs some plane or something,” I try to nonchalantly answer, when my pink cheeks, quickening pulse and impatient stutter do nothing to convince them, especially Libby.

  “What’s his name? Zeke—” Pete naively continues, not noticing any non-verbal signs my body language is giving out.

  “Zach—Zach Greer,” I inform him, and Libby takes a long deep breath.

  “Zach Greer, huh?” she asks, peeking over her shoulder once again and then raising her eyebrows my way with a devilish grin.

  “Let’s order,” I say, changing the subject while my eyes follow Zach finding a seat at the end of the bar, facing right at me.

  “We were waiting for you. Which you took a lifetime,” Wes adds i
n. When did he return from the bathroom?

  “Are you feeling okay?” Pete asks and then puts his hand on my forehead and right before I back up from his touch, Zach’s eyes find mine from across the room. He shakes his head and leans back in his chair, taking a sip of his beer. I wish I could smack the patronizing smirk off his face.

  “I’m fine,” I snap and he backs his head up, over-exaggerating his reaction. “Where’s the waitress?” I ask, peering over the whole restaurant, purposely breezing right past Zach’s area.

  “She’s probably on break from being sick and tired of asking us when the rest of our party would return,” Wes sneers and I turn to him.

  “Can you honestly take that chip off your shoulder and throw it into the lake because I’m about two seconds from throwing you into it,” I threaten. Libby and Pete quietly laugh, but it only infuriates Wes more.

  “I don’t want to be here,” he says through clenched teeth, snapping his fingers at the waitress.

  “They really don’t like it when you do that,” Libby remarks and Wes pierces his eyes at her and she instantly puts her head down.

  “Fuck this. I’m out of here.” He stands up and pushes the chair to the table, making all of the water glasses slosh back and forth.

  “Wes!” Libby calls out, standing up. Then she turns around to us. “I’ll go get him.” “Lib,” I holler out to her, but she’s already gone. “What the hell is going on with those two?” I ask and Pete shrugs.

  “Now it’s just the two of us.” I roll my eyes at Pete’s excitement. His phone starts ringing and I widen my eyes to it on the table.

  “Aren’t you going to get that?”

  He glances at the screen where only a number shows up and then flashes to me. Biting his lip, he finally picks it up. “Yeah, I’ll be back in a second.” He stands to his feet and exits the room.

  As soon as I’m stranded at the table for four all by myself, my eyes veer to the same place they have been the last ten minutes, but the spot is empty. My stomach sinks further. So much for waiting on me for an after dinner drink. I bend down to get my purse to pay the bill when the chair scoots out across from me. Figuring it’s Pete, excuses rush my brain on how to get out of this situation.