Read Online Desire in the Arctic by Stacy Hoff - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stacy Hoff
Ads: Link
outside. It was fun. The counselors even let us roast a whole bag of marshmallows.”
She could have sworn she heard him swallow. It was almost as if he was choking on one of those marshmallows.
“Any hiking experience?” he asked weakly.
Be engaging, Ana. Don’t look so scared. Crack a joke or something. She managed a playful smile. “Close. I’ve told people to take a hike.”
He bit down on his lip. It looked like he was in pain. “Fishing?”
“No. The closest I’ve gotten to fishing is picking up jars of herring from the supermarket.” Taking one look at his ashen expression, she added, “I’m a fast learner though. If you teach me how to do these things, I’ll catch on quick. I even managed to learn a whole lot about wilderness survival before I came up here.”
“I think I need a beer,” he said, abruptly changing the topic.
“I can get you one, if you want.” Ana felt her face go hot.
When he stepped away, she put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Look, I’m sorry I’m not what you wanted in a partner,” she said quietly. “I kinda got forced into this. With no notice for me to prepare.”
He swallowed again, seemingly making a determined effort to soften his countenance. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. Just do what I tell you, and we’ll get through this ordeal as best as we can.” His face was so scrunched up now he could have been a shar-pei puppy. “How’d they force you?”
“I’m their newest producer. I don’t have much track record yet, so . . .”
“That explains it.”
“Redd!” Gus called from across the bar, interrupting them. “You’re up in half an hour.”
“Up for what?” Ana asked. “Is it something I can help you with?”
“No. He means I’m up for Karaoke.”
Ana’s eyes grew wide. “Wow. You sing?”
“Not usually in public. I was trying to help your crew out. They were in a little bit of a financial pickle.”
He may seem a bit angry, but he is definitely a good guy. “I can’t wait to hear you,” she responded with a tentative smile.
She was relieved to see him give her a tentative smile back. She could only hope it would become more confident over time.
Chapter 8
Gus yelled Redd’s introduction into the microphone loud enough to have not needed the extra amplification. “All right, settle down, people. Tonight I’ve got something different lined up to entertain you. Gus’ Place has some New Yorkers here to join us for Karaoke night.”
Redd observed the surprised faces of the few dozen local folks sitting around the bar and stage, beers in hand. Some guy in the back, no doubt having been served one too many of Gus’ drinks, let out a whoop. A lady, even drunker, screamed, “Tourists!”
Gus continued speaking, unfazed by his patrons. “And we’ve got a man here from Texas, too.”
This comment was greeted by louder hoots and hollers, seemingly more heartfelt this time. Then the drunk woman yelled out, “So what? Still a tourist!”
“Ms. McConly, you’ve got to cut that out,” Gus shouted. “Don’t make me walk you out of here.”
“Fine. I’ll be nice,” the woman grumbled.
“That’s better,” Gus announced, smiling. “Our Texan is former military, so you need to show him proper respect.”
Ms. McConly shouted again, this time chanting, “USA, USA!”
“Ms. McConly, last warning. We appreciate your patronage, and your patriotism, but you’ve got to stop yelling.” He glanced over at a thin, frail woman behind the bar. “Matty, she’s cut off.”
Matty nodded.
If Redd hadn’t been so upset to be paired with a greenhorn he would have been faintly amused. Gus’ Place was a true slice of Americana, even here at the edge of civilization. An American flag was hung by thumbtacks above the bar. A Canadian flag hung next to it. Everyone was dressed casually in worn jeans, sturdy boots, and either tee shirts or sweatshirts. A few people could be farmers, given the faint smell of earth that hung
She could have sworn she heard him swallow. It was almost as if he was choking on one of those marshmallows.
“Any hiking experience?” he asked weakly.
Be engaging, Ana. Don’t look so scared. Crack a joke or something. She managed a playful smile. “Close. I’ve told people to take a hike.”
He bit down on his lip. It looked like he was in pain. “Fishing?”
“No. The closest I’ve gotten to fishing is picking up jars of herring from the supermarket.” Taking one look at his ashen expression, she added, “I’m a fast learner though. If you teach me how to do these things, I’ll catch on quick. I even managed to learn a whole lot about wilderness survival before I came up here.”
“I think I need a beer,” he said, abruptly changing the topic.
“I can get you one, if you want.” Ana felt her face go hot.
When he stepped away, she put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Look, I’m sorry I’m not what you wanted in a partner,” she said quietly. “I kinda got forced into this. With no notice for me to prepare.”
He swallowed again, seemingly making a determined effort to soften his countenance. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. Just do what I tell you, and we’ll get through this ordeal as best as we can.” His face was so scrunched up now he could have been a shar-pei puppy. “How’d they force you?”
“I’m their newest producer. I don’t have much track record yet, so . . .”
“That explains it.”
“Redd!” Gus called from across the bar, interrupting them. “You’re up in half an hour.”
“Up for what?” Ana asked. “Is it something I can help you with?”
“No. He means I’m up for Karaoke.”
Ana’s eyes grew wide. “Wow. You sing?”
“Not usually in public. I was trying to help your crew out. They were in a little bit of a financial pickle.”
He may seem a bit angry, but he is definitely a good guy. “I can’t wait to hear you,” she responded with a tentative smile.
She was relieved to see him give her a tentative smile back. She could only hope it would become more confident over time.
Chapter 8
Gus yelled Redd’s introduction into the microphone loud enough to have not needed the extra amplification. “All right, settle down, people. Tonight I’ve got something different lined up to entertain you. Gus’ Place has some New Yorkers here to join us for Karaoke night.”
Redd observed the surprised faces of the few dozen local folks sitting around the bar and stage, beers in hand. Some guy in the back, no doubt having been served one too many of Gus’ drinks, let out a whoop. A lady, even drunker, screamed, “Tourists!”
Gus continued speaking, unfazed by his patrons. “And we’ve got a man here from Texas, too.”
This comment was greeted by louder hoots and hollers, seemingly more heartfelt this time. Then the drunk woman yelled out, “So what? Still a tourist!”
“Ms. McConly, you’ve got to cut that out,” Gus shouted. “Don’t make me walk you out of here.”
“Fine. I’ll be nice,” the woman grumbled.
“That’s better,” Gus announced, smiling. “Our Texan is former military, so you need to show him proper respect.”
Ms. McConly shouted again, this time chanting, “USA, USA!”
“Ms. McConly, last warning. We appreciate your patronage, and your patriotism, but you’ve got to stop yelling.” He glanced over at a thin, frail woman behind the bar. “Matty, she’s cut off.”
Matty nodded.
If Redd hadn’t been so upset to be paired with a greenhorn he would have been faintly amused. Gus’ Place was a true slice of Americana, even here at the edge of civilization. An American flag was hung by thumbtacks above the bar. A Canadian flag hung next to it. Everyone was dressed casually in worn jeans, sturdy boots, and either tee shirts or sweatshirts. A few people could be farmers, given the faint smell of earth that hung
Similar Books
