Finding Mr. Write, page 11
As she poured more spiked cocoa, he said, “So you moved up here after your mom passed. Any siblings back home?”
She shook her head. “It was just me and Mom. I have grandparents, all still living, all great, including my father’s parents. He’s in Asia or something. I haven’t seen him in years. But his parents are wonderful to me, and they were wonderful to Mom. It’s not their fault their son grew up to be an asshole.” She passed back the thermos. “And you? Your family?”
Now he was the one shrugging. “Mom, Dad, older sister, two grandparents.”
She peered at him. “I won’t prod if you don’t want to talk about them, but I hope you aren’t holding back because I’m a little lacking in the immediate family department.”
“Maybe. Sorry. They’re great. Well, all except my sister. Gemma’s a pain in the ass.” He smiled over. “Kidding. Mostly. We’re close. In fact, I just saw everyone last weekend, when we went fishing. Which I do know how to do, though admittedly it’s a little different in the Pacific Ocean.”
She smiled. “Just a little.” She curled up, hands cupping her mug. “Tell me about it.”
DAPHNE
She had made up her mind. She was going to have a fling with Chris. Well, if he wanted one, obviously, and she suspected she was being optimistic even thinking she had a chance at that.
Yes, she’d told herself—repeatedly—that she wasn’t emotionally capable of hookups, but maybe she was overreacting. Maybe it was a matter of finding the right guy, one she could trust. Chris seemed like he could be that guy.
As for more than a fling, she absolutely was not ready for that. She’d finally gotten her life on track after her mom’s death, and it was more than “on track.” She was living out her dreams, and she needed to get herself steady in that before she even thought of adding another dream. Especially when that dream—the one of someone to share her life—could destroy the rest. Finding someone willing to move up here and endure the strange lifestyle of an off-the-grid-living novelist? That was too tall an order. Maybe someday. Not now.
“More than a fling” wasn’t an option anyway. Chris was out of her league.
Nia would give her shit for thinking that, but Daphne wasn’t being modest. It was an objective fact, like when a prospective client offered her an architecture job and she had to acknowledge that she didn’t have the skills—yet—to manage something that complex. There was reaching for the stars… and then there was telling someone you can get that star for them.
Chris was the whole package. Gorgeous, sweet, smart, and funny. Maybe someday he’d meet his perfect match—a neurosurgeon who’d modeled her way through med school—but until then, he was building his career and enjoying all the benefits that came with being a hot single guy in a big city. Couldn’t blame him for that.
But while she knew she wasn’t long-term partner material for him, her self-confidence was strong enough to know she was “weekend fling” material.
She’d been celibate far too long, and the more time she spent with Chris, the more she realized how badly she needed some fun. Safe, no-strings-attached fun.
If he made a move, she’d let him know that door was open. Wide open.
CHRIS
After staying on the deck until dark, Chris slept like the dead, not rising until sun blazed through the window, and he realized he’d forgotten to draw the blinds. He leapt up, certain he’d overslept and the crew would be there any moment.
It was six thirty.
Wide awake, he lay in bed, debating whether he could slip out and start coffee quietly enough when he caught the click of Tika’s nails on the stairs and peeked out to see Daphne creeping silently toward the coffeemaker.
An hour later, they were deep into a walk with Tika, slurping coffee from travel mugs as they wandered along a lakeside trail. The water was absolutely still and veiled in lacy fog. Chris was resisting the urge to send photos to his parents and Gemma. He would, eventually. They knew he was “up north” for a few days “with friends.” Nothing wrong with photos.
He hadn’t been concerned that his family might accidentally see a picture of him as Zane Remington and recognize him. But now… well, now it was getting a little more complicated, with this TV segment and the media attention the book was getting. He still wasn’t too worried. Zane didn’t act or sound like Chris Stanton, and his clothing and hairstyles were totally different.
He should discuss all this with Daphne. For now, he was too busy enjoying walking and talking with her, surrounded by landscape where every turn looked like a postcard.
What would it be like to live here? He remembered what Daphne said about coming up and falling in love. He got it, he really did. The problem was that his life was in Vancouver, both personal and professional, and he wasn’t ready to give that up, no more than Daphne would be willing to give up her dream home.
What about living here part-time? Could he telecommute? Contrary to Daphne’s claims, she had both good satellite internet and good cell service.
What are you doing, buddy?
Thinking.
Maybe you should, I don’t know, ask her out before you make plans to move in.
But he was an accountant after all. He considered all the factors. He knew what he wanted, and he had to be sure it worked before he chased it. What he wouldn’t do was rush. No woman wanted a guy positioning himself as a friend, only to make the leap to more two seconds later.
Anything worth doing was worth doing right. And Daphne McFadden was definitely worth doing right.
Er, no, that didn’t come out correctly either.
Still, not untrue.
Chris took a quick sip of his coffee and then cleared his throat. “So, what’s it like up here in the winter?” he asked. Seriously? Why not just ask if she has an extra closet and a spare set of keys?
“Cold,” she said with a smile. “But I like it better than the lower mainland, actually. I’m not good with the Pacific Northwest’s idea of winter.”
“Rain, rain, and more rain? Gray skies and icy drizzle?” He actually didn’t mind the gray and mild winter.
“Yep. I prefer snow and sunshine. Once you have the snow, it doesn’t feel that cold if you bundle up. Short days, but I kind of like that, too. It’s like part-time hibernation—spend my mornings and evenings writing and reading by a roaring fire and my afternoons getting out and enjoying the snow.”
“Winter sports?”
She nodded. “Up here, minus twenty doesn’t keep people indoors.” She waved at the lake. “I can hike or ski or snowshoe across it and visit areas I can’t reach by foot in the summer. I’m thinking of biking across this winter, so I can go further.”
“Biking?”
“With fat tires, of course. Winter doesn’t keep Yukoners from their bikes. And then there are the sled-dog teams. They cross a few times a day.”
“Sled dogs? That’d be cool.” He looked at Tika, quietly wandering along the lake edge. “Do you pull sleds, girl?”
“She does. For me, at least. Sometimes for practicality—hauling wood. Sometimes just for fun. You should see her pulling me on a toboggan across the lake, running as fast as she can, loving it as much as I do. It’s…” Daphne blushed, as if she’d shown undue enthusiasm. “It’s fun.”
“It sounds awesome. Can you clear the ice and skate?”
“Sure, there are always patches cleared for hockey—”
Tires crunched gravel. It sounded less than twenty feet away, but after nearly two days at Daphne’s house, he’d learned that sound meant someone was driving down the mountain, hundreds of feet away.
When the crunching gravel got louder, he checked his watch.
“They’re early again,” Daphne said.
“Damn.”
“Yep.”
She straightened, relaxed-Daphne sliding away as she shifted into efficient-Dana mode.
Chris sighed, gulped his coffee, and pulled the glasses from his pocket. The crew’s rental truck engine died, its doors squeaked, and he squared his shoulders and headed through the last hundred feet of forest to meet them.
Daphne didn’t hurry to catch up. Enjoying the last moments of peace. He couldn’t blame her. It had been such a nice morning… until they showed up.
Ahead he made out the distant shape of a figure. The male camera operator was a beefy, middle-aged guy with sandy brown hair. He must have gotten out of the truck early to snap a few shots of the lake through the trees.
“Morning,” Chris called, just as Tika’s low growl wafted from the lakeside.
Yep, don’t blame you for that either, pup. Such a nice morning, interrupted.
“Chr-Zane!” Daphne called, and the alarm in her voice made him wheel. She seemed to be jogging toward him, but he couldn’t see more than her shoulder and hip behind a tree. That’s when he heard a low huff behind him and turned around as the bulky figure stepped from the shadows.
Chris looked up, way up, and realized this was absolutely not the cameraman. Even then, his brain didn’t fully process what he was seeing. Brown hair. Huge shoulders, thick with fat and muscle as the figure moved with rolling steps, massive arms hanging down.
Massive paws with massive curved claws.
Chris lifted his gaze past six feet, past seven feet, at least eight feet in the air to look into the broad face of a…
“Grizzly,” he whispered.
CHAPTER NINE
DAPHNE
She’d reacted too slowly. When it came to wildlife that could kill you, any reaction was always too slow.
Now the grizzly stood right in front of Chris, close enough that he could reach out and touch it, and he was frozen there, staring up at a thousand-pound brown bear.
For its part, the grizzly just stood there. Stood and considered, nostrils twitching as it processed the data its nearsighted eyes didn’t provide.
Daphne kept her gaze fixed on the grizzly’s face. Chris was too close to turn and run—and was making no move to do that, thankfully, because unless you were Usain Bolt, you were not outrunning a grizzly.
What mattered now was the bear’s reaction. So far, it had none.
Daphne was watching but also listening. Alert for signs of agitation. A curled lip, a huff, a licking of the lips, a popping of the jaw.
The grizzly just stood there, towering over Chris.
I don’t have my bear spray.
Her mouth opened to say exactly that, but she shut it fast. Do not tell Chris what she didn’t have.
Everything. I damn well lack everything. It was a walk around the property.
Tika didn’t even have her bell on. Daphne had removed it so it wouldn’t clang in the background while filming, and she hadn’t bothered putting it back on this morning.
Daphne wasn’t sure that would have mattered. They’d been talking. The bear should have heard them. It must have been focused on its scratching post and maybe on the sound of the crew’s truck.
As for the crew, thankfully, they must not have heard Chris and headed for the house.
“Don’t do anything.” That was what she said, when she finally found her voice.
Chris gave a shaky laugh. “Not planning to.”
“You’re okay. It isn’t showing any signs of aggression.”
“And if it does?”
She swallowed. What did she say to that?
You’re three feet from a grizzly, Chris. Unarmed. Even if you had a gun, you’re too close.
“The eyes,” she said. “Go for the eyes.”
Which was bullshit, but she had to say something.
She cleared her throat. “I’m going to come closer.”
“What? No. Take Tika and get somewhere safe.”
If she could have laughed at that, she would have. Very noble, but yeah, that wasn’t happening.
“I want it to see you aren’t alone,” she said. “It’s considering the situation, and it doesn’t feel threatened so far, which is good. It’s the wrong season for it to be hungry—plenty of food around and too early to be preparing for hibernation. We just need to politely show it that you aren’t alone, in case it gets any ideas.”
Chris didn’t answer. He kept looking up at the grizzly, but his stance was firm and solid, and that helped.
“Think tough,” she said. “Think Zane.”
Still no response. He was busy focusing instead of talking. Good. She tapped her leg, telling Tika to follow, though the dog was already glued to her side. Tika was growling steadily, which was good. Growling was a calm warning, meaning she didn’t see immediate danger, either.
As they moved forward, the bear’s nostrils widened. Daphne tensed, but the bear didn’t huff or lick its lips. It smelled Daphne and Tika getting closer and assimilated the data. Its gaze shifted, just enough to take them in as Daphne drew within a few feet of Chris. She stopped. The bear swung its attention back to Chris, and she tensed again.
“Step back,” she murmured. “Ease in our direction and give it room to leave.”
He started to move, and the bear began twisting away. Good. It just needed a clear exit route—
“Oh my God!” a voice squeaked.
Everything in Daphne clenched. The film crew. They must have been coming through the forest, not realizing what was happening, and now they were going to spook the bear into attack.
Except the bear did no such thing. It thumped down onto all fours and began walking in the other direction. Not exactly running off in terror, but ambling purposefully, like Daphne spotting a threatening figure in a dark parking lot.
Fleeing? No, I’m just making my way in this direction, which is where I was headed anyway.
She exhaled in relief and turned to Chris, who stood frozen in shock. Then, seeing her, he put out his arms, and she didn’t think twice. She fell into them, exhaling as she whispered, “You did great.”
He gave another shaky laugh and patted her back. “No, that was all you.”
“Oh my God!” Sofia said again, closer now, and Daphne jumped out of Chris’s arms.
Sofia gaped at him. “Did you just stare down a grizzly bear?”
“What? No—”
Daphne shot him a quick look and mouthed Take it.
Chris still hesitated, but when she firmed that look, he gathered his Zane cloak around him and straightened.
“Are you all right?” he said to the crew. “That must have been quite a shock for you.”
Daphne bit the inside of her cheek, but Sofia only gazed up at him, doe-eyed.
“You saved our lives,” she said. “All of us. You stared down a grizzly.”
A hearty laugh with just enough false self-deprecation. “Oh, I wouldn’t say—”
“You did. We saw it. You were between Dana and the bear, and you scared it off by just staring at it.”
Chris hesitated, and Daphne realized how it must have looked from Sofia’s angle, coming up behind them. Daphne nodded for Chris to take the credit.
“We frightened the poor creature,” he said. “It was curious, and it only needed to be told—with a firm and unflinching look—that we were not easy targets, should it be a bit peckish. It is breakfast time after all.” He laughed at his own joke. “And on that note, what do we all say to breakfast? I, for one, am starving. Early-morning bear encounters will do that.”
“You feel like you could eat a bear?” the female camera operator said with a smile.
“Exactly. But I would settle for coffee and Dana’s fresh-baked muffins.”
CHRIS
Chris was in the bedroom dressing for the first video segment. Earlier he’d been wearing comfortable lightweight pants—suitable for outdoor rambles—and a form-fitting T-shirt, suitable for showing off his assets to Daphne. If she was interested in seeing them, that is. He still wasn’t sure on that part.
For the shoot, he’d wear expensive cargo shorts and an even more expensive flannel shirt. Who knew flannel could be expensive? He wasn’t even sure anyone watching would know the difference, but the clerk at the trendy “gorpcore” store assured him it made a difference. Of course, given that the store catered to young Vancouverites who only wore their gorpcore fashion to the office, he suspected it wasn’t actually suitable for climbing mountains. In other words, Daphne wouldn’t wear this shirt. Even Zane probably wouldn’t. But it was what people would expect a guy like Zane to wear, so he’d bought it.
He was shaking out the shirt, wondering if he should iron it—do you iron flannel?—when a knock came at the door. The crew was outside eating their morning meal, with Daphne having added egg sandwiches to the menu.
She must be clearing plates and checking on him while she was inside. They hadn’t had time to talk since the bear encounter, and he really wanted to. His heart stuttered every time he thought of it.
A grizzly bear. Right in front of him.
“Come in,” he called.
The door opened as he gave the flannel shirt another shake, assessing.
“Good timing,” a voice said… and that voice was not Daphne’s.
He wheeled to see Sofia.
He started to apologize for welcoming her in when he wasn’t dressed. Then he realized Zane would not apologize… and she really didn’t seem to mind.
“Hello there,” he said, taking his voice down an octave as he offered a lazy smile. “I’m trying to decide whether this shirt will work on camera.” He lifted it in front of him.
“Is there an option for leaving it off?” she said.
He laughed his hearty Zane laugh. “Sadly, I fear I have little excuse for walking around bare-chested for this morning’s shoot.”
She moved closer. “On a more serious note, Zane, I wanted to thank you for saving my life.”
“Er…” He coughed and gave a solemn nod. “It was nothing. Really.”
“No, it was. I keep trying to focus, but all I can think about is that bear. It was”—she shuddered—“huge. And those claws.”
“The danger, truly, was minimal. I surprised it.”
“So you aren’t still freaked out at all? Your adrenaline isn’t still pumping?”
