The coffee doesn’t feel too hot, so I carefully bring it to my lips and take a small sip. When I taste it, I turn to Colson with excitement, “Do they have salted caramel lattes in the machine now?”
He looks up from his phone and grins. After hearing me repeatedly complain about the lack of variety in the fancy new coffee machine in the break room, I’m not surprised he showed up with an impromptu latte for me. And it’s good, I can actually taste the sweet and salty notes instead of the vague flavors that all seem to taste the same anyway.
Colson focuses on his phone while I respond to emails, alternating between an inordinate amount of swiping his keyboard and equally long periods of time staring at the screen. A few moments later, my desktop vibrates as a text comes through on my phone.
HILDY (12:18PM): What kind of dress are you looking for? Major sale soon. And what am I supposed to wear? I have less than 2 months!!!!
There’s a link to a bridal gown shop attached to the text. I don’t even know how to respond, so I set my phone down, feeling more stressed than I was before I picked it up. And what does Hildy mean she has less than two months? The only decision I’ve managed to make since agreeing to an August date is to use Rick and Leona’s backyard for the venue.
Their house is gorgeous and looks like a mountain cabin that belongs in the Rockies instead of central Ohio. There’s a giant A-frame window that sticks off the back of the house and a massive deck with open steps that leads to the sprawling yard. I think Leona sensed my panic when everyone started asking me about wedding plans and quietly offered up their immaculate grounds. I was more than happy to accept and took the opportunity to cross one extremely important task off the list.
Still on his phone, Colson doesn’t look at me, but, somehow, he knows I’m keeping an eye on him out of the corner of my eye.
“Sorry,” he finally locks his screen and tucks his phone back into his pocket, “Sergei—someone I used to work with.”
I crack a smile, “When you were a bear bodyguard?”
“A bear bodyguard,” he laughs, “that’s what Dallas calls it. Have you all been talking about me?”
I give a shrug, “She had a lot to say about it.”
“She has a lot to say about everything,” he retorts.
“Well, Sergei is a Russian name and you used to live in Alaska—just an educated guess.”
“You’re half right,” Colson replies, “I met him in Canada, but he just started his own company and he’s trying to get me to come back and work for him.”
“What kind of company?”
Colson doesn’t answer, just looks at me with the tiniest of smiles.
I shoot him a look, “Does it involve high-powered rifles?”
He nods, “Rifles, yes,” then he shakes his head, “bears, no.”
When I only respond with a roll of the eyes, Colson tilts his head and peers at me from his chair as I turn back to my emails, “Do you not want me to?” he finally asks.
I don’t look up as I tap the mouse and hit delete, “Not want you to do what?”
“Go back to watching for polar bears.”
“I thought you said it didn’t involve polar bears,” I point out, “and besides, what I think about it doesn’t matter.”
“Sure, it does,” he knits his brow, “if you asked me not to do it, I wouldn’t.”
He’s just fucking with you. Don’t react to him.
“I suppose that’s a relief,” I sigh. “Would you go back? For something other than polar bear protection, I mean.”
“Maybe. Alaska’s a big place. So’s Canada.” He taps the top of his leg with his thumb, “But you already know that.”
I haven’t forgotten what Bowen said about not telling Colson too much about my life. But none of it matters because there’s a lot that Colson already knew about me before he got here. And he can find out whatever he wants regardless of whether I tell him or not…
“You wouldn’t go back to Katmai?” I ask with surprise.
Colson leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, “If you went with me, I might.”
By now, I should be used to the way he talks, but I’m not. So, I do what I usually do. I brush him off, deflect, and compartmentalize. It’s what I do best.
I roll my eyes at him, “It would take something earth-shattering for me to move to Alaska.”
“You’d be closer to your sister.”
“Nice try,” I scoff, “Toronto is on the other side of the country from Alaska and Yukon.”
Colson shrugs and leans back in his chair again, “Guess I’m staying here, then.”
Since he wants to keep talking about Alaska, I take the opportunity to ask him about the only thing I’m really curious about. But as soon as I open my mouth, I hesitate, the awkward end to my conversation with Hildy still fresh in my mind.
“Dallas told me what happened in Alaska,” I swallow hard, “with your girlfriend.”
Colson blinks, not saying anything at first. For a moment, I wonder if it’s a mistake that I brought it up. But this is what I want to know, isn’t it? After what happened, I shouldn’t care about making him uncomfortable. He’s done enough of that to me.
“My girlfriend,” he draws out the word, “that would’ve made for a better story, wouldn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Paige was my friend,” he explains, “she wanted to go up to Katmai Pass to take core samples from trees for her dissertation. I said I’d go with her because I didn’t want her getting lost or running into a bear or a moose. But I didn’t account for an 80-foot pine falling in the middle of the night.”
