Chapter 6

Logan

While I very much enjoyed seeing Valentine in her bare legs and fuzzy socks, the woman seriously needs some warmer clothes. I can’t even quite fathom how she could end up in Alaska and not know a short robe and an even shorter God-knows-what underneath wouldn’t cut the cold nights here.

I open the door to Billiott’s and let Valentine precede me in. I follow but practically run her over when she comes to a dead stop and with a small gasp looks around.

“This is huge,” she murmurs, and she’s not wrong about that. When Caleb and Sarah Billiott opened up this place years ago, they banked on the fact that people wouldn’t come with the right kind of clothing and equipment for their adventures. Now, most people don’t get it as wrong as Valentine has with her miniscule sleepwear and high-heeled boots, but there are quite a few who want the top-of-the line outdoor wear that Billiott’s provides. They located it outside of Ketchikan to catch those serious hunters and fisherman who were going to breeze past the touristy town and head into more rugged terrain.

Putting my hand at the small of her back, I gently guide her through rows and racks of clothes to the register area right in the middle of the store. I see Sarah bent over the counter with her daughter, April, studying most likely receipts or something.

They both look up as we approach, leveling welcoming smiles our way. If you look closely, you can see some resemblance between April and Sarah, but April looks more like Caleb overall with her dark hair and even darker eyes. She turns the heads of a lot of the men in town for sure.

“I assume you brought Valentine in for some more appropriate clothes,” Sarah surmises, being blunt as usual and observant of her boarder as well.

“Best place around,” I say.

Sarah snorts. “Only place around, but I agree…we have the best stuff.”

“You must be Valentine,” April says as she comes out from behind the counter and offers her hand. “I’m April Billiott.”

April’s a sweet girl and I think she’s pretty close to Valentine’s age. She’s never had a desire to leave the area and I know she’s got a crush on Jorgen Shasten, who works as a fly-fishing guide.

Valentine shakes April’s hand, and with a self-deprecating bob of her head says, “I clearly did not do my research on what to bring to Alaska. Think you can help me out?”

April laughs and hooks her arm through Valentine’s, leading her away from the register and toward the women’s section. “You have the absolute most gorgeous figure. You’re going to make outdoor wear look amazing.”

Valentine laughs sweetly as they walk away. “I’m game for anything.”

“She’s a looker, huh?” Sarah says in a low voice meant to be heard only by me.

“That’s an understatement,” I say as I lean an elbow on the counter. No sense in denying it.

We both turn our heads and watch for a few moments as April flips through a rack of thermal T-shirts, pulling a dark blue one off and showing it to Valentine. She shakes her head, but April then pulls a pair of khaki cargo pants off from another rack and holds them up together. Valentine shakes her head again. April pushes them at her, insisting she try them on. Valentine’s shoulders sag and she takes the clothing. April leads her to the dressing room, snagging a few more thermals along the way and a fleece vest.

“So, you give the girl a ride to East Merritt, then you bring her clothes shopping,” Sarah says slyly.

I turn to look back at her with a cocked eyebrow. “Your point?”

“I think this will put you ahead of the others,” she says with a shrug.

Frowning, I lean in closer. “Others?”

“Rusty, Portman, and Mike filled me in at breakfast, and apparently she has a few dates lined up this week,” Sarah murmurs so her voice doesn’t carry across the store.

“With who?” I ask, and try not to sound like I care too much.

Which I really don’t, because she’s free to date whomever.

Sarah gives into her love of gossip and lays it out for me. “Monte asked her out for tonight, Rusty for tomorrow night, and Mike invited her to go fishing on Sunday. Word is she accepted all three.”

“Busy girl,” I mutter.

“Yeah, but those are boys…they don’t know what the hell they’re doing,” Sarah says with a wicked gleam in her eye. “You, though…you’ve saved her butt twice now since she’s been here. That’s more romantic than anything.”

I push up off the counter and hold my hands up to Sarah. “Whoa…wait a minute. I don’t have any interest in her like that.”

Sarah just stares at me with one eyebrow arched high.

“I don’t,” I maintain. “I’m just being neighborly.”

“Never known you to take a tourist clothes shopping before,” she retorts with a smirk.

“Don’t even go there,” I growl at Sarah.

She shrugs. “Of course, with her history, no wonder she’s living it large with all the gorgeous beefcakes around here.”

I refuse to engage.

I refuse to engage.

I refuse to engage.

“What do you mean?” I break down and ask.

Sarah leans in closer to me, and I can’t fucking help myself…I do the same. She whispers low. “She told me that she had been in a relationship with a man that had a wife and family in another state and she had no clue. I think she’s trying to mend her broken heart and picked a pretty remote location to do it in.”

Huh…Valentine doesn’t seem to me like she’s got a broken heart. She’s been funny and engaging, and unless my radar is wrong, a little flirty too. Maybe she’s here to go a little crazy after having been betrayed?

“So what do you think?” I hear from behind me, and I jolt at hearing Valentine’s voice, which is slightly husky…totally sexy. I turn to see her wearing a pair of khaki hiking pants that fit her hips snugly and a long-sleeved thermal in bright white that molds tightly across her breasts.

Well done, April, on the sizing…particularly the top.

“It’s nice,” I say neutrally.

“Or do you think I should do something like one of these button ups?” she asks as she holds up said shirt in front of her.

But before I can answer, she holds up another shirt. “Or this one?”

Chuckling, I lean back against the counter and give her a lazy smile. “Sorry, Valentine. I hate shopping. You’re on your own on this one.”

She blinks a few times and stares at me as if what I’ve said is very weird. But then she shrugs and says, “Maybe I’ll buy all three.”

I give a side glance to my right, eyeballing the three massive sacks of clothes and shoes that Valentine bought at Billiott’s. Their stuff isn’t cheap, and while I politely walked away while her purchases were ringing up, I know it’s a small fortune in threads sitting in this truck between us. This lends to my overall suspicion that Valentine French is not hurting for money. Not only did Valentine stockpile shirts, flannels, Henleys, and thick sweaters, she bought hiking pants, jeans, and even one pair of overalls that she said looked “adorable,” and even though they weren’t in fashion anymore, she just had to have them. She also bought two pairs of hiking shoes and a pair of rain boots, along with a fleece vest and a down-filled North Face jacket with a hood.

“I think you stripped Sarah of all her stock,” I comment as I note Valentine has a very satisfied smile on her face.

“I have to admit,” she says in a contemplative voice. “It’s kind of fun shopping by myself.”

“You don’t do that often?” I ask.

“No. I always go with someone, usually my cousin Jeremy.”

“He gay?” I ask.

Valentine laughs but assures me, “No, he’s as straight as you are. He just likes to shop, is all. Most men I know like to shop.”

“Must be a New York thing,” I mutter.

“I’m pretty sure you’re right about that,” she says emphatically. “Although I’m going to kill Jeremy about not adequately informing me about what I’d need for this trip.”

“I take it he’s been here before?”

Valentine nods. “Fishing trip a few years ago and just raved about East Merritt. I let him make all of my travel and lodging arrangements, and the more I’m thinking about it, I think he knew damn well what he was doing. He’s so going to get a piece of my mind as soon as he gets back from his honeymoon.”

I chuckle over the vengeful wrath in her voice. “I’m betting those are the first outdoor clothes you’ve ever purchased, right?”

“Does my fur coat count?” she asks impishly.

I just shake my head and laugh, and even though I’d been telling myself I wasn’t going to go there, I fucking go there. “Sarah said you got a date tonight with Monte Plume.”

“I do,” she says cheerfully.

“And Rusty the following night,” I add.

She nods. “He seems very nice, so of course I said yes.”

“Good thing you bought some new clothes,” I mutter. “Going to need them on your fishing date with Mike.”

“Well, when in Alaska, you do Alaskan things,” she quips.

“Serial dating isn’t an Alaskan thing,” I say lightly, to which she gives a hearty laugh.

“You know I was talking about fishing, Logan,” she teases me. “But honestly…so many men in this town, I’m not quite sure why serial dating isn’t an Alaskan thing.”

“You’ve come to the right place for sure. You know…to get over that whole thing.”

“That whole thing?” She sounds genuinely confused.

“Yeah…Sarah said you’d been hurt by a guy. Found out he had a wife and family. I just assumed you’re here to sort of celebrate your freedom. You know…remind yourself what a great catch you are and all that.”

Valentine doesn’t respond, so I turn to give her a brief glance. Her head is tilted and her eyes are slightly narrowed at me. “Wait a minute…do you think badly of me that I’ve accepted three dates?”

“Not at all,” I say adamantly. “I’m all about what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. If men can date multiple women, so too can women do the same with men.”

I sneak another quick glance at her and I can tell she’s testing the weight of my words. Her troubled expression tells me she thinks I’m judging her.

“Listen,” I reassure her in a soft tone. “You fall off that horse, you get right back up again. So go on as many dates as you’d like. Nothing holding you back now.”

Valentine snickers softly and I turn to look at her again. Her eyes are playful when she says, “I told a fib to Sarah.”

“A fib?”

“Yeah,” she admits with a guilty tone in her voice. “She was just really nosy as to why I was here in Alaska all by myself. I was tired and hungry and pissed off at Jeremy, and she kept insisting there was some deep and mysterious story that led me to East Merritt. She wouldn’t let it go and that sort of just popped out of my mouth. I didn’t want her to judge me.”

“So there wasn’t a relationship gone bad by betrayal?” I ask, to make sure I’m following.

“No.” Her grin is sheepish and contrite.

“Then why would she judge you?”

“Because I am here to date,” she says brightly, and I almost swerve my truck off the road.

My head snaps right to look at her. “You came all this way to date?”

She shrugs. “Jeremy said the ratio of men to women was crazy skewed in my favor.”

“So it’s sort of like a smorgasbord?” I ask her dryly.

She laughs, completely unabashed. “That’s an excellent way of putting it.”

Well, I’ll be damned.

Valentine French is here to sow her wild oats, and I’m not sure if that bothers me or not. I wasn’t lying to her when I told her I’m all about equal rights for women. There should be no judgment about a woman who wants to have fun like that, because fuck knows, men do it all the time.

And yet the thought of her going out with Monte, Rusty, and Mike all in the same week doesn’t quite sit right either. I know it’s a double standard, but apparently there is some Neanderthal in me after all.

“You’re awful quiet,” she murmurs.

“Huh?” I ask as I turn to glance at her briefly before looking back to the road.

“You’re judging me, aren’t you?”

I put an easy smile on my face and turn back to give her a longer look. “No, I’m not judging you at all.”

“Because I don’t put out on the first date, you know?”

And this time my truck does swerve slightly and I bring it back under control. “I never thought that, Valentine.”

“Okay,” she says, then adds, “I just wanted that to be clear. I like to have fun, but I’m not easy.”

“Got it,” I say with a nod. “Valentine French is here to have fun, but not in an easy way.”

“Exactly,” she says, and I look back at her one more time to see her beaming at me.