Lindsay snorted. “Did you tell her that you’ve got better taste than that?”
“No. I don’t even want to speak Spencer’s name in her evil presence.” I lifted the tray of cupcakes and nodded at the bowl of party mix. “Grab that.”
We headed outside, where Mr. and Mrs. Kerr were greeting the guests flowing into their backyard, including my parents.
“Cal, Lara, good to see you,” Mr. Kerr said to Mom and Dad as Lindsay and I drew near. Judging by his enthusiasm, you’d think they’d traveled from Fairbanks for the cookout instead of from just next door.
He took a step toward us as we placed the cupcakes and party mix on one of the tables. “Lindsay, nice to see you.” He shook his head. “Winter, you’re certainly turning into a beautiful young lady. You take after your sisters.”
Was something in the grill smoke making him high? My dark hair and complexion came from Dad, while the twins’ blond beauty was directly linked to Mom’s genetics. Not to mention, I’m the odd man out in the practical-career department. Lesa planned to follow in Dad’s footsteps and become a doctor so she could tend to the medical needs of some village in the Alaskan bush. Kristen made my kindergarten teacher mom deliriously happy by studying education, though she aimed to teach Alaska history to high schoolers rather than finger painting to munchkins.
Me? My secret desire? I wanted to be a costume designer in Hollywood. Not very practical for a girl from small-town Alaska. At least I could share my dream with Spencer, whose own dream also would take him away from the cocoon of Tundra, of Alaska. I could already imagine him flying all over the world and writing about what he saw. The Bill Bryson of the air.
I smiled and uttered a “thanks” to Mr. Kerr, who (despite being a little dweeby) was a nice guy. I couldn’t hear him talk without hearing his radio commercials for Tundra Foods in my head. “Come on in to Tundra Foods! Best grocery prices in town!” Of course, no one could argue with
that
claim, since the Kerrs owned the
only
grocery in Tundra.
Lindsay hooked her arm through mine and guided me into the throng of partygoers. “Since you’ve dragged me to this, I’ve decided it’s going to serve a very important purpose.” She unlinked our arms and rubbed her hands together as she scanned the crowd. “I need a hot date when the Snow Ball rolls around, and this is the perfect place to start looking for the lucky guy.”
“O-kay.” I looked at Lindsay as if she’d been victim to a body snatching. Since when did she want to scope out Tundra’s slim pickings? “This plan came from where?”
“From hearing you go on about your little excursion with Spencer last night. You already have the hot date. I’m not going to be the only loser without one. There’s got to be
someone
worthy of action besides Spencer.”
I frowned at her, annoyed. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt oddly protective of my fledging romance.
She stopped scanning the crowd long enough to glance at me. “Oh, get real. You know I don’t like Spencer that way.” She snorted. “Ew. That’d be like dating one of my brothers.”
I couldn’t help it; I’d always been a little jealous of the fact that Lindsay had been friends with Spencer first. Even though the three of us were now inseparable, they’d still shared memories I’d never been a part of. But he was with me now. A wave of pure giddiness swept through me. I couldn’t wait to see him again, kiss him.
Thinking this, I stifled a squeal.
I still couldn’t believe I’d snuck out last night. It was a miracle I’d made it all the way to Spencer’s house without dropping the cake I’d baked him. I’d almost turned back before working up the guts to knock on his bedroom window, while his parents slept just across the hall. The same jittery feeling I’d felt then made my skin tingle again as I replayed the encounter in my mind for what had to be the thousandth time.
Lindsay punched me on the arm. “I fully expect more details than that pittance you gave me on the phone. So spill! I know you’re thinking about it.”
I remembered his broad and intimate smile as he’d leaned forward out of his window to reveal his shirtless torso.
“It was amazing.”
“So, what did he say when you showed up with a cake in the middle of the night?”
“He teased me, of course. Then I started babbling, saying how it was supposed to be a congratulations cake but I couldn’t wait to give it to him, so now it was a good-luck cake. At that point, I pretty much was dying of embarrassment and shoved the cake at him, told him it was carrot cake.” His favorite.
He’d taken the lid off and seen the frosted plane. The night air had caused goose bumps to pebble his skin as he leaned on the windowsill and smiled at me. “My sweet, thoughtful girlfriend.” He’d lingered on the last word, like he was savoring it.
“And then?” Lindsay prompted, pulling me from my reverie again.
“He reached out and grabbed my hand, pulled me toward him. He said he was glad I’d finally made the first move.” I’d asked him to the Snow Ball earlier in the day. It had been one of the scariest, most impulsive things I’d ever done, but also the smartest—it had gotten us to where we were now.
“Really? ”
Which was exactly the question I’d asked. “Yeah.”
Amy Peterboro, one of Lindsay’s teammates on the basketball team, stopped us to ask Lindsay something about the practice schedule. I stared off toward the mountains again, letting myself drift back to the night before, to the moment I’d been telling Lindsay about.
“Really?” My voice had sounded breathless.
“Yes, really,” he’d said. His words, cloaked in the surrounding night and full of unspoken promises, sounded extra sexy. Then his expression grew more serious. “I was afraid to risk our friendship.”
“Me too!” I said it a little too loudly, immediately embarrassed by my lack of control. Spencer put his finger against my lips, sending a delicious zing racing through me. He glanced back into the darkness of his room, apparently listening. Satisfied, he returned his attention to me. “As much as my parents adore you, I’m not sure they’d be thrilled to see you outside my bedroom window at 1 a.m.”
The sense of risk made it all the more intense when he pulled me to him and kissed me, a kiss that was deeper and more heart-pounding than our last. My hands ran over his naked shoulders, and an unexpected urgency coursed through me. I wanted it to go on forever. My fingers trailed along the goose bumps on his chest, and I felt him suppress a shiver.
“You’re freezing,” I’d said, finally breaking away.
“Funny, I feel pretty warm at the moment.” He pulled me back in.
“Hello, Mission Control to Winter.”
I glanced at Lindsay and noticed that Amy was gone.
“Sorry. I just can’t stop thinking about last night.”
“So, is he a good kisser?”
Warmth flooded my face, but I nodded. “Awesome! I’ve never felt so wonderful in my whole life. Still feel that way today.”
“Must be good if even Brunhilda can’t ruin your mood.” We navigated away from a throng of adults. “So, how late were you there?”
“About one. I finally had to leave so he could get some rest before his test this morning.” I glanced up at the sky. “He said he’d take me up for a flight after he got his license.”
“Romantic, especially if he lands you in some secluded spot.”
I couldn’t help the little squeal of joy that escaped me.
“You two are going to be sickly sweet now, aren’t you?” Lindsay asked with mock horror.
“Probably.” I gifted her with my widest smile. “Linds, I think he’s liked me for a long time, maybe as long as I’ve liked him.”
“Did he say that?”
“No, but when I asked him about those two Valentine’s cards from him in second grade, if he’d meant to send me two, he just grinned and said, ‘What do you think?’”
Lindsay stopped and looked at me. “How were you even able to sleep after that?”
“I couldn’t for a long time. I think I danced all the way home. Then I couldn’t help it; I texted him, told him I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”
“Can’t sleep,” I’d typed. “Should read. What?
The Tempest
or
Persuasion
?” I’d giggled, pretty sure I knew what his answer would be since he was no great fan of the Bard.
“Did he offer to come over, to help find a way to get you to sleep?” Lindsay’s wicked eyebrow wiggle prompted me to shove at her shoulder.
“No! He’d already fallen asleep.”
Lindsay turned her attention to the crowd around us. In a small town like ours,
everyone
showed up at parties. “Well, you two will be sucking face for the foreseeable future.” She placed her hands on her hips. “I need a man.” She sighed. “Okay, a boy will do. So listen, option No. 1: Matthew Stanislowski. Decent looking, reasonably intelligent, but his mom is a bit of a freak.” She stretched her face into a look of mock fright. “Brock Robertson.” She ticked off option two. “Hands roam too much. Dave Cooney.” She shuddered. “No thanks. I’d rather go out with a girl.”
I groaned as Lindsay kept up her running commentary of every male classmate she spotted. Much as I loved Lindsay, I couldn’t wait for Spencer to hurry back and spirit me away.
“Don’t groan at me. I’ve listened to you go on and on about Spencer for years! You owe me.”
“Okay, fine.” She had a point. I kept my mouth shut as she continued to prattle. In addition to her unceasing list of pros and cons, other snatches of the conversations around us sailed past me as I floated along on my happy cloud. Quotas for the king and opilio crab seasons, predictions about the upcoming winter, the rising price of groceries, prospects for Tundra School’s basketball and hockey teams.
But it was all muffled, hiding behind my eagerness to see Spencer again. To wrap my arms around him, kiss him, snuggle on the couch with him, and have him read to me from the latest Dana Stabenow mystery or hilarious Bill Bryson travelogue. I still had a hard time believing we’d finally moved beyond the friendship barrier. But my long-held dream had, in fact, come gloriously true.
I was so lost in my thoughts of Spencer that I nearly ran into Lindsay. She’d stopped navigating the crowd as abruptly as she’d stopped her monologue. Instead, she stared ahead, stunned.
“
Who
is that?” Her voice sounded breathy.
I peered around Vernon Sibigorski, the enormous mechanic who worked at Patrice Murray’s dad’s garage. Considering there was only one person in my line of vision whom Lindsay hadn’t known for years, it didn’t take a lot of deductive reasoning to figure out who she meant. The tall, blond guy a few yards ahead couldn’t look any more different from Lindsay’s dark Aleut coloring if he tried.
“I take it you haven’t met Caleb Moore yet,” I said. “He’s Mayor Ellis’s new stepson.”
“Pretty sure I would have remembered him,” she said, continuing to stare at Tundra’s newest resident. “If they grow them like that in Oregon, I was born in the wrong state.” She licked her lips and finally stopped looking at Caleb long enough to wink at me.
Everyone in Tundra knew the story of the mayor’s new family. In a town that barely hit the two-thousand population mark—counting those who lived out on remote homesteads—and boasted not a single stoplight, the mayor finding love on the Internet was front-page-caliber news.
“He’s okay, I guess,” I said, mainly to tease Lindsay. Caleb was, in fact, nice looking. Not in Spencer’s league, of course, but then, no one was.
“Okay? He’s perfect.” Lindsay looked like she might drool on herself. “How did I not know when he arrived in town?”
“He and his mom flew in yesterday—you must have been fishing.”
A fishing trip that would help Lindsay’s family survive through the winter. I wondered when it would hit her how vastly different her world was from that of Tundra’s new first son.
The look of total awe on Lindsay’s face worried me. She wasn’t typically one to go goggle-eyed for a guy, but maybe that was beginning to change. And even in Alaska, where neighbors banded together for survival, the blond Mr. Perfect and the daughter of poor natives were an unlikely pair. No matter how you looked at it, Caleb and Lindsay didn’t exactly scream “happily ever after.”
But she wasn’t looking for that, was she? Linds just wanted a date to the Snow Ball. And today, I was inclined to believe in the impossible.
“Maybe you should go welcome him to Tundra.” I nudged her in the ribs.
At first, she looked like the very idea frightened her to death. But then she straightened and looked more like the Lindsay I knew and loved. “Not a bad idea. Grab him before someone else snatches him up.”
“He’s not a sandwich, Linds,” I said.
“No, he’s yummier.” She headed in Caleb’s direction.
I hung back, watching, hoping he wasn’t a cocky, spoiled, rich boy destined to pulverize her self-esteem. Though she never wallowed in self-pity, she’d gone through enough crap already; and I had the feeling I didn’t know the half of it. Despite our long friendship, Lindsay wasn’t exactly the open-up-and-share type. Still, the last thing
anyone
needed was a broken heart. And I feared that’s what she might get if she set her sights on Caleb.