"Add another story. Bedroom loft. Balcony."
When I hesitated, he walked over beside me and looked out as I straightened. "Nice view. Wouldn't want to lose it."
I smiled and shook my head. When I'd first considered building a separate cabin for myself, I'd envisioned a tiny cottage, little more than a bedroom and bath. The plan kept growing, though, at Jack's prodding. We hadn't even decided on a site yet, and we were already up to a full-blown cottage, complete with small kitchen, sitting area, and office. Now this.
Jack squinted into the rising sun. "Yeah. Don't want to lose the view. Full-length balcony. Bedroom loft. Fireplace."
"We're already putting a fireplace on the first floor."
"Have two." When I opened my mouth to protest, he said, "I'm paying."
"Part. A small part. I'm not going to let you--" I stopped. "No, I'm not falling for that again. Every time you add something and I argue, you bring up who's paying because you know it'll distract me and the next thing I know, there's two fireplaces on the plan."
"'Cause I'm paying."
I made a face at him. He pulled me over for distraction technique number two, one that invariably worked. Thirty seconds later, I was up against a tree kissing him, cabin construction forgotten, my hands in his hair, his under my jacket and under my shirt, fingers deliciously cool against my skin. His hands moved up my back, unhooking my bra, then sliding around to cup my breasts--
"Stop!" a voice shouted.
I jumped about a foot. Jack only shook his head as the voice came again. "Don't go near the ice!"
I nudged Jack away and glanced down the bluff to see a family of guests out by the lake. They caught sight of me. I waved and called down to second the warning against the kids getting too close to the ice. Jack sighed.
"I swear," I said. "We could be in the high Arctic and still get interrupted. In this case, though, it's probably for the best. You have a flight to catch. You wanted to leave at noon and it's . . ." I checked my watch. "Ten past."
"Yeah."
He looked out over the lake, and I could see the wistfulness in his eyes. He didn't want to go. It would pass, though, once he got out and in the field again. Then he'd return and he'd be glad to be back, and we'd have our time together.
It'd been almost two months since Chicago. I will admit, in the beginning, I'd been worried Jack might realize this life wasn't for him. That I'd wake one morning and he'd have left a note. Emergency job, it'd say, but I'd know the truth--that he was restless and there wasn't enough here to hold him.
That didn't happen. Once he'd recuperated, he'd taken off a couple of times. Not on jobs, but managing his business. Easing out of it, too. He wouldn't retire. Not for years. But he was cutting ties, telling lesser clients that he wouldn't be working for them much longer. Each time he left, it was with reluctance. And each time he returned . . . I smiled to myself. Returning was good.
As for the rest, the Contrapasso Fellowship was still trying to woo us, through both Evelyn and Quinn. While I wasn't interested now, could I foresee a day when I might be? Maybe. If I ever was, Jack said he'd come along. Not because he'd developed a sudden interest in justice, but for me.
I wasn't giving up the life. Finding Amy's killer hadn't "fixed" me. There was, I'd realized, nothing to fix. This was who I was. It wouldn't change. It didn't need to.
Quinn and I still talked. It wasn't what it used to be. I didn't know if it ever would be, but we talked, and that was something.
"I want to be back by Christmas," Jack said.
"I know." I also knew he couldn't guarantee that with an overseas job, but I played along.
"Where's Scout?" Jack asked, looking around.
"Right there."
I pointed about twenty feet off, where she was digging out the snow around a fallen log. Jack squinted before seeing her.
"Remember what you said when you bought her for me?" I said. "That a white dog would be easier to spot? And I said, 'Not in the snow.' Case in point."
"Huh." He peered over at her as she started toward us, a black nose and dark eyes bounding through the snow. "Could get another shepherd. Black-and-tan. That'd help."
"How?"
"They'd stick together. Like Evelyn's dogs. Always be able to find them. Scout in the summer. The black-and-tan in the winter."
I laughed. "I am not getting a second dog so I don't temporarily misplace the first."
"Get one for Scout then. Dogs are pack animals. Not easy for her. Having me here. Taking your attention. She gets jealous."
I whistled. Scout bounded over and leaped on Jack, nearly knocking him down, as if she hadn't seen him in days, dancing and nudging his hand as we walked.
"Yes, she obviously hates you."
"She's good at hiding it. Gonna get you another dog. Safer with two. Never know what's on those roads. Bear. Coyotes. Hitmen."
I gave him a look. "If you want another dog, fine. I will buy one--for you."
He glanced over, blinking in surprise. "No. Didn't mean--"
"Yep. I am totally buying you a dog. Did you hear that, Scout? Jack's getting a dog, and you're getting a friend."
He protested, of course. It didn't matter. I might act like I was kidding, but I now knew what I was getting him for Christmas. He'd never admit to wanting one--no more than I did before he bought Scout--but I knew it would please him. He'd had a dog once, when he was a boy, and getting one now would be a symbol of a new home. Of a life where he could have a pet again.
Jack was already looking to buy a car. I could say it was because he was uncomfortable borrowing my pickup to run errands, but I know it's a step he wants to take, like helping with the cabin. I've never been big on personal possessions, but I can't imagine living with none. That was changing and he seemed glad of it.
For this trip, he'd picked up a rental in Peterborough last night, which he'd drive to the Toronto airport. I'd offered to take him, but he insisted--it was a Saturday and the lodge was filled to capacity.
"I'll be back for Christmas," he said again as we reached the rental, his bag already in the backseat. "I mean it. If the job takes longer? I'll come back anyway. Few days off won't hurt."
I started to protest, but he stopped me. "Know you don't really celebrate. But I want to be here."
"Okay."
He paused, as if he'd expected me to argue.
"If you can be here, I'd love that," I said.
I leaned in and gave him one last kiss. He climbed into the car. I stood there, watching him drive off, knowing he'd be back as soon as he could. When he was gone, I whistled for Scout and headed back to the lodge.
Kelley Armstrong, Wild Justice
(Series: Nadia Stafford # 3)
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