I inhale sharply, because no matter how much I don’t want to think about Elliot, you can’t love someone like I love my brother and make yourself forget he’s in mortal danger. It’s not possible.

  “What?” Gideon asks, his eyes scanning my face with worry. “Did I say something wrong? I’m not kidding. I’m not just saying that. You’re beautiful, Addy. So very, very beautiful.”

  I clench my jaw together, willing myself not to cry as he calls me by the nickname again. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him not to call me that—that he hasn’t earned it, that he doesn’t have the right, that only someone who loves me can call me “Addy”—but the words won’t form, won’t come. So they remain unspoken as I pull him closer and he covers me with his body.

  Because my eyes are suddenly filled with tears again, I close them, reaching for his face and kissing him deeply as I spread my legs and welcome him between them. I can feel his cock, hard and hot, slide into the channel of my clit, soaking itself in the slickness he’s already drawn from my body.

  Tears slide out of the corners of my eyes as I reach for his ass and squeeze tightly, bucking my hips upward to let him know I’m ready. He reaches down with his hand to position his cock at the entrance of my sex, then braces his hands on either side of my head, kissing my lips as he slides slowly forward.

  He’s thick and long, and the extra foreskin massages the walls of my pussy like nothing I’ve ever felt before, filling me in a way I’ve never known. It’s only when he’s buried inside of me to the hilt that I realize he’s not wearing a condom, but his skin so intimately joined with mine feels so unbelievably good, it’s the exact closeness I need to feel cared for, to feel cherished, to not feel so fucking alone for a few precious moments of my lonely life. So I let it ride. I let him ride. I tell myself that “just this once” won’t matter.

  When his balls rest against my pelvis and his cock gently touches my womb, I feel his nose nuzzling mine and open my eyes to find him hovering above me, his arms flexed and locked, his hips motionless. He’s letting me get used to him.

  “Are you okay?” he asks me tenderly, leaning his head forward so that his lips brush my ear. “Is this okay?”

  “Mm-hm,” I murmur, reaching my hands under his so we can lace our fingers together. “I won’t break, Gideon. I want more.” I arch my hips, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth before letting it go. “I want everything.”

  “Okay,” he whispers, pulling back his hips before thrusting them forward once again.

  It’s a dance—this skim of lips, this press of skin, these grasping fingers, this slide of muscle, this clench of walls, these muffled cries, this thrust of hips, this slide of flesh, these gasping breaths, this swirling, drunken, mindless dance—that culminates in his roar of satisfaction and my scream of pleasure.

  Our bodies flex and release in tandem, mine milking his to completion and his nourishing mine with a comfort I have never known in the arms of a lover. I am replete, yes, but my heart is still singing like a plucked violin string long after the rest of my body is quiet.

  When he rolls to his side with his back against the couch, he pulls me against him and somehow maneuvers the fur blanket over both of us. His warm breath dusts the back of my neck, and at a time when I am generally jumping up to shower and redress, I’m closing my eyes and snuggling closer instead.

  “Tell me a secret,” he whispers, the deep rumble of his voice tickling my ear.

  I come up with something perfect right away.

  “I read your personal ad,” I tell him, “before I ever heard from my brother. My assistant regularly checks out ads in The Odds Are Good on my laptop, and this time, she forgot to exit out of it. When I got here—when I saw the name Ad Astra and got lost in your blue eyes—I knew it was you. That’s how I knew you didn’t have a wife or girlfriend.”

  His arm tightens over my hip, and he takes a deep breath, then lets it go slowly.

  “I was married for a while, but it didn’t work out,” he tells me. “Over the last year or so, I’ve felt ready to meet someone new…I just—it’s hard up here, you know? The ratio of men to women doesn’t exactly work in a guy’s favor.”

  “So you placed an ad.”

  “Mm-hm.”

  We’re silent for a few seconds, our bodies pressed together under the fur creating a warm and safe cocoon. I’m going to fall asleep in a minute. I can feel it. But first…

  “Tell me a secret,” I murmur, covering his hand with mine.

  He’s quiet for a second, then says, “I canceled the ad the day I met you, Addy.”

  Oh, my heart.

  It squeezes in a way that hurts and feels wonderful, and I have no idea what to do with myself because part of me wants to run and part of me wants to stay in his arms forever. But the simple and sad fact is that I’m too tired to run, and besides, there’s nowhere for me to go until tomorrow.

  So I close my eyes and nestle closer to Gideon, concentrating on the strong, steady beat of his heart against my back until I fall asleep.

  Chapter 6

  Gideon

  The sound of the hot water heater groaning to life wakes me up, and I rub my eyes in the dim morning light. A glance at my phone tells me it’s almost nine o’clock. While Addy showers, I lie back and close my eyes, thinking about yesterday with a shit-eating grin.

  In a nutshell, we fucked, we napped, we ate food, we drank vodka, we fucked some more, we showered, we raided Tamra’s boxes in the basement for a decent parka (which Addy wore around my house for the rest of the afternoon with nothing underneath, making it my favorite parka ever). We watched two episodes of Manhunter on Netflix, we Netflixed and chilled like champions, we had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner, had sex in my bed, and fell asleep.

  It was epic.

  And for most of it—even the real-life bits, when we talked about my plans to give the bonus to the Tatitlek scholarship fund or when she took a call from a young starlet eager to leave a bad marriage—we existed in our own private universe where her brother was alive and well and she wasn’t in Valdez with the sole intent of finding him. We were just two thirty-something people enjoying each other…having fun.

  I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up, stretching my naked body and marveling over how much I really, truly like Addison DeWitt. I’m not just in a sex coma, I swear. I like her—I like her intelligence and wit, her bravery and courage, how hard she loves her brother, and that she won’t give up on him even when the odds are stacked against him. I liked the way she felt in my arms, astride me, and beneath me. I liked the way she laughed when we were naked in bed, talking about nothing important but getting to know each other better. I liked the way she breathed, deep and soft, when she was sleeping. I liked the way her body seemed to crave the curve of mine.

  It doesn’t matter how long we’ve known each other or under what conditions. Turmoil makes for strange bedfellows, and I’m glad she fell into mine.

  But in an ideal world, we would have met under different circumstances.

  Today won’t be anywhere near as carefree.

  My smile fades.

  I cross my room and look out the window, noting the cloudless sky developing into a soft, clean turquoise blue. The sun will come out soon in all its power, and though I’m sure the roads won’t be clear until tonight or tomorrow, I can definitely take Addy up for a look around.

  I don’t know what we’ll find, so I just say a quick prayer that whatever is waiting for us in the wilderness won’t break her heart in two.

  “Can we fly today?”

  I turn to see her standing in the doorway of my room, her hair wet and a towel wrapped under her arms and tucked in primly at the front.

  “Yeah. It’s clear.”

  She gives me a grim smile.

  “Gideon, I—listen, yesterday was…nice. Better than nice. It was like we pressed pause in the middle of a really heavy movie and watched a rom-com. But today we have to press play again.”

  “I wish…” I begin, thinking of us.

  “Don’t.” She shakes her head. “There’s no point.”

  Her meaning is clear: there’s no us.

  “Today could be rough,” I tell her, switching gears. “Will you be okay?”

  “I need answers. I’m eager to get started.”

  I take a step toward her, suddenly aware that I’m naked and immediately self-conscious, which is ridiculous after the time we spent together yesterday. But nudity feels embarrassing now, almost feels foolish when life and death matters are at hand.

  “But will you be okay?” I ask her again. “Whatever we find?”

  “Hopefully we’ll find him alive. Dum spiro spero,” she says. While I breathe, I hope.

  “Deo juvante,” I answer. With God’s help.

  “Do you want to take a shower before we go?” she asks.

  I don’t, actually. I like it that my body still smells a little like hers. I don’t want to wash away all traces of what we shared yesterday and last night. I understand it’s over. I understand that it didn’t mean anything to her. But against all odds, it did mean something to me, and I’m not ready to let it go, even if I’m holding onto it all by myself.

  “Nah,” I say. “I can grab one later.”

  I pull open my dresser drawer and take out some boxers, a pair of jeans, and a T-shirt. The flannel shirt I barely wore yesterday is still downstairs in the living room. I may as well get dressed down there and give her some privacy.

  “Come on down when you’re ready,” I tell her, covering my naked groin with a small pile of clothes as I sidestep by her. “I’ll make some coffee for the road.”

  When I’m at the top of the stairs, she calls my name: “Gideon!”

  I look over my shoulder. “Hmm?”

  “Thank you,” she says, with just a hint of yesterday’s warmth softening the corners of her eyes. “Thank you for everything.”

  She’s saying good-bye. I can feel it. I know it’s true. No matter what happens today, there won’t be a reprisal of last night. Whatever we shared is over, and all that’s left now is memories of a woman that will haunt me long after she leaves Valdez and resumes her life in California.

  She lifts her chin, and that sweet softness fades from her face.

  “Just doing my job,” I say, turning my back to her and walking away.

  ***

  “Do you see anything?” she asks me, her voice tinny over the headphones.

  It’s cold as fuck up here but clear as a bell. She’s using my binoculars to look down at the mountains, valleys, and glaciers below while I fly back and forth between the Blueberry Inn and the various glaciers to the east.

  “Not yet!” I say.

  The roads out of Valdez to the airport weren’t exactly a picnic, and I had to clear the helipad with a shovel. We didn’t get up in the air until after eleven, and it’s going on one o’clock now. Agrippina’s tank was full when we left the hangar, so we can stay up here until one thirty, but the world below is a stark white blanket of snow, and I haven’t seen much to distinguish one shape from another.

  “When’s Sven coming up?” she asks.

  “Should be up here any minute. We’ll go back down at one thirty and he’ll take over until three.”

  “What’s that?!” she calls, pointing out her window.

  I lean toward her and take a look. “Just rocks.”

  “I thought I saw something,” she mutters, holding the binoculars up to her eyes again.

  My radio whistles, then hums. “Gid…Gid…come in. Come in. It’s Sven. Over.”

  “You up here, man?” I ask, looking for Sven’s black helicopter over the horizon.

  “On my way. Following the highway up from Valdez now and almost at the pass. They’ve got a job to do, eh?”

  “Yeah. What do you think? Twenty-five, thirty inches?”

  “Nah. Two feet, I’m thinking. No more. Coming up by Blueberry Lake now.”

  “You see the inn?” I ask him.

  “Yeah, roger that. There it is,” says Sven. “Where are you?”

  “I followed Heiden Creek to the glacier. Been combing back and forth between Bench and Heiden.”

  “Seen anything?”

  “Nothing,” I say. “And we’ve combed this area pretty good.”

  “Where do you want me to look?”

  I take a deep breath and share something with Sven that I haven’t yet shared with Addy: “I’m thinking Howard didn’t head back to the inn. Somehow, he got turned around. Wondering if you can check out Deserted Glacier down where it meets Wortmann’s and Tasnuna?”

  “Lots of crevasses down there,” says Sven after a pause.

  I clear my throat. “Uh, yeah. That’s a roger.”

  “What does that mean?” asks Addy. “Where are you telling him to go?”

  We’ve only got fifteen minutes of fuel left, and the reality is that we should’ve seen Howard’s cat by now if he got stuck at the Books. The picture on Instagram proves they were here, but there’s no trace of them now.

  “Farther out,” I tell her, gesturing to the mountains ahead of us.

  “We’ll go too,” she tells me.

  “Nope,” I say. “Sorry. We need to head back to the hangar. I don’t want to run out of gas. Sven’s got it from here.”

  We do one last sweep from the Blueberry Inn out to the Books, then turn around, following the Richardson Highway back to the Valdez Airport in silence. I land the helicopter and help Addy from her seat just as my cell phone rings.

  Sven.

  My heart plummets, because—call it intuition or a sixth sense—I know he’s found something and it’s not good.

  “It’s Sven,” I tell her.

  As I answer the phone, holding it up to my ear, her brown eyes bore into mine, scanning my face for any hint of information.

  “Hey, Sven.”

  “Hey, Gid. Found the cat.”

  “What’s he saying?” asks Addy.

  “I’m going to put you on speakerphone, Sven,” I say, then press the speaker button and hold the phone between us in the cold, dim helicopter hangar.

  “Yeah. Yeah. I…uh, I had to land a little ways away because I don’t trust the ground around there, but yeah. I found the cat.”

  “Wait! What?” asks Addy, leaning forward, her eyes hopeful when they flick to mine. “You found them? You did?”

  “That’s roger. Yeah. Uh, Howard’s cat fell in a crevasse where Deserted and Wortmann’s meet,” he says, rattling off GPS coordinates.

  “You found him!” Addy yells. “Oh, my God! Sven, thank you!”

  “Don’t have thermal imaging on my ’copter,” he says, slowly, “but you should know…there wasn’t anyone moving around down there. I hovered for a good fifteen minutes, close enough that they would’ve easily heard the blades. Took a look from a couple of different angles. No signs of life. Just, uh, just so you know.”

  Addy takes a sharp breath, her jaw clenched tightly, her wide, frightened eyes seeking mine.

  I gulp. “Did you, uh…did you see anything else?”

  “Just that aqua-blue snowcat nose down in a hole.” Sven pauses. “Don’t look good, Gid.”

  “Roger that, Sven,” I say. “Can you give me those GPS coordinates again? I’ll call it in to the Valdez PD.”

  As I write down the coordinates and call Tom, I watch Addy sit down listlessly on a plastic crate, lean forward, and bury her head in her hands. For the first time since she arrived in Alaska, I can see her giving up. I can feel it.

  And there isn’t a damn thing I can do to help her now.

  ***

  Addison

  I ask Gideon over and over again to take me back up in Agrippina, but he refuses.

  “Ground’s not stable enough for me to land,” he explains. “There are crevasses all over the place out that way. They can be sixty feet wide and well over a hundred feet deep. No. No way. You need to let Search and Rescue handle it from here.”

  “We don’t have to land!” I exclaim, refusing to get back in the van, though he’s holding the door open for me. “We can just hover. Look for Elliot. For the other guys. For anyone! We need to go back!”

  My voice sounds wild in my ears, shrieking and hysterical. I can’t help it. I don’t care.

  “Addy—”

  “Don’t call me that!” I cry. “Don’t you ever call me that again!”

  He takes a step back, holding his hands up. “Calm down.”

  “Fuck you! Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!” I scream. “Take me back, Gideon! You take me back now!”

  Gideon crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head no as I stare at him. “There’s no point, Addison. You’ll just be torturing yourself. You need to let Search and Rescue do their job now.”

  “I’ll find someone else—I’ll get Sven to take me!”

  “I’ll tell him not to,” Gideon counters.

  “Why?” I demand, leaning forward and pushing against his chest with all my might and briefly satisfied when he has to step back from the force of me shoving him. “Why won’t you take me? That’s why I’m here! You think I’m here for you? I’m not! I’m here for Elliot! I’m here for my brother. And you goddamn fucking better take me back there to get him!”

  “I can’t land on those crevasses.” His eyes are sad when he shakes his head. “The answer’s no. I’m sorry.”

  I advance on him, hitting his chest hard, over and over again, until I taste the salty tears on my lips. “Fuck you! Fuck you and your sorrys! Take me back! Take me back…take me b-back…t-take me b-baaaa…”

  My sobs override my words, and his arms come around me, holding me tightly against his chest. My hands are trapped. My brother is almost definitely dead. And I have nowhere to go.

  I stop fighting, surrendering to the tears that sting and burn and to the images in my brain that dream of unimaginable anguish.

  “My God…oh, my God…oh, my God…Elliot…”

  What did he suffer in this terrible, unforgiving tundra? Did he know I loved him when he took his last breath?