“I’m not acting like a caveman,” he scoffs.
“Hey, I’m not complaining,” I tell him, softening my stance. “I like that you care. But don’t worry about leaving me with Neil. I don’t think he would dare try anything, especially if he knows what’s on the line, and if he did, I could hand his ass to him, no problems.”
“You’re impressing me more and more.”
“Good. You should be impressed. Anyway, thank you for taking me instead. I’m sure I’ll be working with him alone at some point but until then, it’s nice to have things be as awkward-free as possible. I’d like to forget all that shit ever happened.”
“Problem is, he’s not the type to let you forget it.”
I sigh and run my fingers down the cool of the window pane, the town flying past. “Can I pick them, or what?”
Maverick lapses into silence. I look over at him. His jaw wiggles back and forth, tense, his eyes now have laser focus on the road. Since he’s not looking at me, I take the opportunity to let all of him soak in. His large hands on the steering wheel, his thick dark hair, like a buzz-cut that’s grown out for a few months that showcases his strong neck, the way it slopes into powerful shoulders. I swear to God, every single part of this man is pure perfection.
Finally, his eyes flit toward me and he smiles. “Get a good look?”
“It’s hard to say…it’s a shame you’re wearing clothes.”
He’s gobsmacked for a moment before he bursts out laughing. I know I need to shut up, but I honestly can’t help it and I know I wouldn’t say a word if I knew things were getting dicey.
Oh God, I hope things aren’t getting dicey now. That’s my problem sometimes. I’ll push and push and push to see what I can get away with and then everything blows up in my face. It’s probably why I’ve been so attracted to the adrenaline junkie jobs to begin with.
He shakes his head, staring at me with a disbelieving smile on his face, like he’s trying to find the right things to say. I don’t even know what I want him to say, I just want him to keep reacting to me. I want to shock him, make him laugh. It’s addicting.
“What I said earlier about trouble,” he says. He clears his throat and tries to put on a serious face. “You keep throwing me for a loop, Riley Clarke. I’m honestly not sure what to do with you.”
Another sly smile comes over me, emboldened by how comfortable I am with this man already. “I can think of a few things.”
I have to wonder when he’s going to put his foot down and put a stop to this. I know flirting is pretty harmless but there’s going to be a point where he’ll play the boss card. He will because he has to, especially after what happened with me and Neil.
“You’re a little minx, you know that?”
I grin, feeling exceedingly charmed by that. “Maverick’s minx. I like it.”
“It’s Mav,” he says imploringly. “Not Maverick. Not John. Mav.”
“Alright, Mav. I can be your minx if you want me to.”
He tugs at the edge of his jacket, a firmness coming back to his face as he looks back to the road and takes us toward the small regional airport situated alongside the river. “But in all seriousness, as much as I appreciate how, uh, friendly you’re being…”
“You want me to knock it off? I can do that. I’m just having a bit of fun.”
“Yeah, well,” he clears his throat, “the thing is, I’m your boss, right. And we just met…”
“You don’t strike me as the kind of man who has a problem with that.”
“Okay, so then let’s go back to the whole I’m your boss thing. As much as I know you’re having a bit of fun, I just…we have a job to do, a serious one, we have to work together and I don’t want things to get complicated. You understand?”
I’m a little bit embarrassed he shot me down so fast, but not so surprised. It’s one thing to keep flirting with him as I am if he’s actually down for it, it’s another if he’s only mildly flattered and wish I’d behave myself.
“I understand.”
He sighs. “Not that I don’t appreciate it. It just makes things—”
“Complicated,” I fill in. “Like you said. I get it. Most people don’t know what the hell to do with me, I’m used to it.”
“You know…” he starts, those glacier eyes trailing over my nose, my lips, my chest. “If our situation were different…”
“If you weren’t my boss and there weren’t rules in place that you just lectured me on last night and I hadn’t just started this job…”
“Then things would be different.”
Or it could be that he’s just not interested in me in that way. But I don’t know, the way he’s looking at me right now is both remorseful and wild, like he’s this close to pulling the truck over to the side of the road and having his way with me in the backseat.
And fuck, he could have his way all day long, anyway he wants it.
“Anyway,” he says, pulling the truck to a stop in the parking lot. “That’s the helicopter.”
I look across to the pad at a small building. “Do you have a usual pilot?”
“I’m the pilot,” he says, matter-of-factly.
“You know how to fly a helicopter?” Can he get any fucking hotter?
“I do,” he says. “Tony has his licence too and he does most of the flying around here, but it’s good to have two just in case. Otherwise we have to rely too much on local pilots, and they’re not always willing to take the risk.”
I think back to all the helicopter drop-offs I’ve done. Sometimes it gets pretty nasty with the pilots lives in more danger than our own. We’re ready to bail, the pilots aren’t always.
“Plus,” he says, opening the door, “it’s cheaper for them this way.”
“From the way you talk about the government cutting corners and saving money, I’m actually surprised I was hired,” I tell him as I get out and join him at the hood of the truck. I’m pretty tall—five-foot-eight—but once again I’m struck by the difference between us. He’s just all brawn and beast, making me feel impossibly dainty and small.
At that, he looks away toward the chopper, rubbing his lips together.
“What? I was hired, right?”
“Yeah,” he eventually says, looking sheepish and rubbing the back of his neck. “But the reason was because we needed to hire either a woman or a minority to keep everyone happy.”
“I was only hired because I’m a woman?” I exclaim.
He nods. “The only woman who applied and as far as I could tell, the only minority as well.”
“Oh.” I’m deflating fast, like a pin to a balloon. “And here I was thinking that I was hired because of my awesome skills and resume.”
“Hey,” he says, briefly touching my arm. “That’s why you got the job. You wouldn’t have been hired if you didn’t have what it takes. Okay?”
I cross my arms and kick feebly at the snow. “Now I just feel like a token.”
“You’re not a token, Riley,” he tells me, leaning over until he catches my eyes. “You’re here because I want you to be here. And you want to be here too. Now come on, let me show you the best part of the job.”
I try not to let things get to me, and I’m usually quick to shake things off (with the exception of Micropenis Neil because, let’s be honest, that’s sticking with me for a while), but I can’t help but feel the sting of that one. Obviously you don’t always know why you’re getting the jobs you do, and you usually assume it’s because you’re the right person for it, but now that I know the truth here—that it was about meeting a quota to seem politically correct or something—it makes me wonder if that’s how I’ve gotten jobs before. On one hand I have to work extra hard for people to take me seriously, on the other hand I might not have to work hard at all. Just show up and have a vagina.
But the moment I get into that helicopter with Mav and we lift off from the landing pad, snow blowing in all directions beneath us, I feel like all my worries drop away too. One minute
I’m fretting over not being good enough for the job, the next I’m in awe at the beauty around us, Mav confidently piloting the craft like it’s second nature.
“So this is North Ridge from the raven’s point of view,” he says to me as I stare down at the town. Even though there’s about ten thousand full-time residents, from the air, the town is much larger than I thought. It’s nestled in a river valley between mountain peaks, and the town spreads out in brick and pretty colored buildings along the main street and other arteries until the houses and roads back up onto the lower mountain slopes. With snow covering everything, it looks absolutely magical.
“Does it always snow here?”
“Not always, it’s mild here in BC compared to out east. But February and March are notorious for that last blast of winter before spring comes along. See that right there,” he nods to the tallest mountain rising along the edge of town, “that’s the start of the Selkirk Mountain range. And that’s the ski resort there. That’s where we’ll be spending a lot of our time.”
I stare down at the tiny skiers and snowboarders slicing down perfectly groomed powder, the lifts in full operation. “It looks nice. Reminds me of a place I worked at in Wyoming. Not as big as Aspen or Whistler, but still fun.”
“It is fun,” he says, adjusting his big headphones. “We get a lot of powder here and it’s reliable, so we get lots of locals from the coast coming here when their snow isn’t cutting it. Most winters, the BC coast doesn’t get enough snow. Problem is, a lot of those locals are young and by the time they get here, they tend to not listen to the rules. Hence why we’re always busy.”
He takes the helicopter away from the mountain, skirting along the edge of a lake on the other side. “And over there, that’s the Kokanee Glacier. That’s another thing that keeps us busy. I blame the beer.”
“Beer?”
“We have Kokanee beer and the commercials are always about the glacier and sasquatch. Sounds crazy, but a lot of people seem to think they’ll find sasquatch out there. Or beer.” He sighs. “It is a beautiful place though, when it’s not being trampled by morons.”
The helicopter swings even further around until we’re flying back toward town. “And now,” he says, “on that side of the river, you’ll see Cherry Peak and Ravenswood Ranch. That’s my home.”
I stare down at the picturesque ranch houses and barns nestled beneath a photogenic mountain. “You live there?”
“Well, I was born there. My father lives there, my younger brother Shane and his fiancée too. The ranch is still in full operation.”
“Wow,” I whisper. “I’ve always loved ranches, horses, cows, the whole package.”
“What about cowboys?” Mav asks.
I grimace. “No thanks.”
“So you wouldn’t like me in a cowboy hat and chaps?”
I let out a small laugh, happy that he’s playing along again. “If it’s just chaps and a hat, you can be whatever you want to be. I’ll be there for it.”
“Well, hey,” he says with a shrug. “I’m sure one day you’ll see the place. It’s a beautiful ranch, all seven hundred acres of it.”
“Will you be taking me there?” I ask pointedly.
“Or Del,” he says. “She practically grew up there too. And she really likes you.”
And I like you, I think to myself. But for once I keep it to myself.
“At least someone is charmed by me,” I say, before I quickly add, “other than he who shall not be named.”
Mav stares at me for a moment, studying me with a softness I haven’t seen yet. “I’m utterly charmed by you, Riley.”
My heart flutters, just for a second.
“You find me amusing,” I point out. “And confusing.”
“No, not confusing. You’re nothing if not straight forward. But yes, I find you amusing. I find you a lot of things that I probably shouldn’t.”
“Such as?” Now I’m intrigued.
“Nothing I can get into for fear of losing my job,” he says. “But just so you know, I’m glad you’re here. I’m looking forward to…more of this.”
I give him a small smile. “Same.”
The only problem is, I’m not sure what more of this is. Flirting? Working together? Setting boundaries?
The only thing I do know is that if Mav is already thinking of me in ways he probably shouldn’t, and I keep pushing his buttons, we’re both going to end up in big trouble.
Bring it on.
5
CHAPTER FIVE
Maverick
It’s been one full week since Riley started working at North Ridge Search and Rescue.
Which means it’s been one full week of daily blue balls followed by furious bouts of masturbation every waking hour. My hand is cramped, my dick is sore, and I keep going back for seconds.
I can’t get her out of my fucking head.
The only saving grace is that it was her first week, which meant there was still a lot of getting to know the terrain and the local processes. I wasn’t alone with her often and sometimes I wasn’t with her at all. Tim took her out on a controlled avalanche expedition and Tony took her to the resort to get a feel for the scene and give safety talks. She hasn’t been on a call yet—none of us have.
Which is usually the calm before the storm. We’re almost always rescuing someone weekly, especially since our range and jurisdiction is so large, but this week there hasn’t been anything. With the law of averages, when something hits next, it’s going to hit hard.
Even the weather seems to be lulling everyone into a false sense of security. The light snowfall and sub-zero temps of last week have tapered off, bringing fresh, spring-like breezes and slushy streets. So much so that Fox thinks we’re in for an early spring.
“Which is a fucking shame in a way,” Fox says as he pours himself a cup of coffee. I’m sitting down at the kitchen table, slurping down a protein shake that tastes like ass. And not the good kind of ass.
“Why?” I love winter, the snow, the ice, the boarding, the storms, but it just goes on for far too long here.
“The sooner winter is over, the sooner my winter employment comes to an end,” he says, leaning back against the counter. “Then there’s a long, penniless window between then and when the forests start burning again.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re morbid? You don’t get paid until the province is burning.”
He takes a sip of his coffee and glares at me over the mug. “I’m not saying I want that, but it’s the truth. The forests will burn, every year it’s getting worse. Climate change isn’t going away. Sad to say, but I think I’ll be working more in the future, not less. That said, I hate scrambling for odd jobs.”
“You know you don’t need those odd jobs, Fox. You live here, we own this place. Mortgage is almost paid off. You’ve saved up a lot for times like these.”
“I’ve saved for the future. Because I know I won’t be able to be a hot shot all my life. It’s a young man’s job.”
“You’re not that old,” I tell him. “I mean, you’re definitely pushing it, but…” Thirty-three is young, but he’s the older brother and if I don’t do my job and tell him he’s over the hill, it’s a wasted opportunity.
“Right,” he says with a sigh. “But it’s a job for single men, really. The guys I know who have wives and kids, they don’t stick with it for long. It’s too hard. They realize it’s not worth it, sacrificing all that time away from their families, not to mention their lives.”
I watch him curiously. This is the first time I’ve ever heard Fox mention marriage or kids. I’ve always assumed he was a lot like me, no time or need for commitments. I’ve also assumed that it was Delilah that was holding him back from finding anyone else, whether he realizes it or not.
“So,” I begin, “this marriage and kids business…”
He shrugs, looking into his mug like it holds better conversation. “I’m just saying, eventually I’m sure I’ll settle down. And when I do, I don’t think I
’ll be a hot shot for much longer.”
“Unless you find a woman who completely supports and understands your job,” I say carefully, wondering if he’ll get the hint.
“Right. Like that’s easy to find.”
Fuck, he’s dense. But I’m not going to go there, he’ll just say I’m crazy for thinking so. Now, I can’t figure out if he thinks it’s crazy that Delilah would be interested in him or that he should have any interest in her. But the denial is very real with those two.
“Maybe you’re not looking close enough,” I tell him, getting up to put my glass in the sink. “Maybe the right woman is there, right in front of your eyes.”
He looks to the ceiling in annoyance. “Please stop leaving dishes in the sink,” he says to me as I’m about to raid the cupboards for something else to eat.
I snort and shake my head as I then go and rinse out the glass. “Who needs marriage when you live with your brother?”
“Want to take bets on who will be the first to move out?” he asks, refilling his mug from the coffee pot. He fucking mainlines that shit.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“How much?”
“Five hundred dollars.” He says it so confidently, like he’s actually been planning this bet.
“You sound so sure of yourself.”
“I guess I think you’ll be out before I will be.”
I eye Chewie, who is snoring loudly from the couch. The couch that Fox says she’s not allowed on and yet always is. “Is this your way of telling me you’re kicking us out?”
“Us?”
“Me and the doggo.”
“Nah. I need you to help with the mortgage. Would be nice if the doggo chipped in, though.”
“All right,” I tell him, sticking out my hand. “Five hundred dollars. Now what is the bet again?”
He shakes it. “I’m betting you’ll move out before I do. So if I’m right, you’ll owe me half a grand.”
“I’m surprised at your faith in me. Me, of all people.”
“Hey, it’s people like you that end up surprising everyone. Always the last person you suspect. Anyway, I’ve seen Riley…”