7
ORSON
O rson 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. A lot of 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 was big .
That’s what she said.
There was a sense of humor behind Alexandra’s armor.
Sometimes they drove for miles without seeing a real building. Occasional turnoffs looked like driveways rather than legitimate roads, and they only saw cars coming in the other direction a few times an hour. At one point, they were slowed by a poky RV, but Alexandra passed them on a clear stretch of road. Once in a while, there were actual side roads with stop signs. It was hard to believe they were on a major highway.
Orson tried to pry more information from Alexandra about herself, but she only glanced at him, smiled, tittered obnoxiously, and changed the subject to talk about Alaska.
He let her jabber whenever she would, loving the sound of her voice, especially when she forgot to be air-headed and got invested in her topic. She admitted that she was passionate about fishing, which set Orson’s bear aquiver in excitement.
Yes , he growled happily. She is meant to be ours.
They stopped so many times that they got into Tok quite late.
“We should get dinner before we find our rooms,” Alexandra suggested. “Sandra booked us some cabins just down the road. Fast Eddy’s has the best pizza in the state but they close at nine.”
“Pizza sounds great.” It did, too; Orson didn’t have to exaggerate. It sounded comforting and familiar, and it had been a whole lot of day that wasn’t either of those things. He was looking forward to catching up on the sleep that had eluded him the night after meeting his mate and he was still struggling with jet lag. “What time is it? I’m starving. ”
The sun was still high in the sky, which was confusing, because Orson’s phone said it was already eight PM. They had stopped at every pipeline viewing area on the way, though they started to look the same after a while.
“You get used to the daylight,” Alexandra said pityingly. “It gets dark again in August.”
Orson stared up at the blue sky. “I was hoping to see the northern lights,” he admitted.
“They’re up there, but it won’t be dark enough to see them for a few months.”
Somehow, that was a very comfortable feeling.
Fast Eddy’s was a long, low building off the highway, and Alexandra pulled the truck up in front of it. It sounded like a dive bar and looked like it was barely a step up from that.
A harried waitress led them to a booth and handed them plastic menus. Alexandra didn’t even look at it. “Growling Grizzly,” she said.
Orson was alarmed at first, wondering if she was calling him out. Then he realized it was the name of a pizza, just as she gave a simpering smile. “Tee hee hee, I mean, if you want to split one, we can!”
Orson liked her better giving orders than backpedaling. Why was she being so weird? He’d gotten glimpses all day of the woman she must be behind that fake laugh, the kind of woman who could successfully run a security company and win awards.
“Sounds great,” he agreed, closing his menu. “I’ll take a beer.”
“Water,” Alexandra said, looking at him suspiciously.
Should he have ordered a whiskey? Or a water?
It was utterly exhausting trying to pretend to be someone he wasn’t. He was so tired of wondering if he was doing everything right.
And this was his mate , sitting across from him. He wanted to know what she was thinking, what it would taste like to kiss her, what her real laugh sounded like.
“Tee hee hee.”
That wasn’t either real or a laugh.
“Alexandra…”
She winced. Was he pronouncing that wrong, too?
“I had some questions about the company employees,” he said.
Her mouth curved up in a cute little smile. “Tee hee hee. I’m happy to answer any questions.”
“Why did you hire felons?”
Her fake little smile froze in place, but her gaze didn’t waver. Had she not expected him to find that? He might be clueless about Alaska, but he’d taken the time to review the basics of the business before he came north.
“I vet every employee on an individual basis,” she said. “I chose to select them based on their rehabilitation and exemplary qualifications, rather than their…checkered records. They’ve been loyal and hard-working. I don’t have any regrets.” Her voice grew more forceful as she went, and she seemed to realize how loud she’d gotten. “Tee hee hee…”
“Don’t our clients have qualms about that?”
“I’m not keeping it a secret if that’s what you’re implying.” Orson wasn’t sure how she kept that smile on her face when her eyes were so angry.
Mama bear , his grizzly warned him. Don’t mess with a mama bear.