Page 71 of Hunter
As Tanner and McKenna follow the rest of the Stewart clan back to the main campground, Hunter and I climb up the concrete steps to the yurt and step inside.
“What do you think?” he asks, his eyes alight with happiness.
“I think your family is amazing.”
“Yeah,” he says. “They’re pretty great, I guess.”
I sit down on the edge of the bed only to find it’s just as comfortable as it looks.
“You know,” he says, standing in front of me, “we weren’t supposed to get back until Sunday. We still have three days off before either of us need to go back to work. A whole weekend to ourselves.”
I look up at him, suddenly feeling a lot less tired.
“Can you think of anything to fill that time?” I ask him, licking my lips and tilting my head to the side in thought.
He chuckles, which makes his blue eyes sparkle and shine. “I can think of a few things, baby.”
I push a pretend pair of glasses up the bridge of my nose. “It’s time for Show and Tell, class. Hunter, do you want to start with show…or tell?”
“Naughty school teacher is one of my fantasies,” he tells me, kneeling down in front of me and parting my knees. Gently, he pushes my dress up over my thighs until it’s bunched around my waist. His thumbs hook into the waistband of my panties, and I lift and shift slightly so he can tug them over my hips and down my legs. “And now that I’vetoldyou that, Miss Gonzalez, let’s skip toshow, huh?”
I lie back on our new bed and close my eyes just as his tongue, warm and soft, slowly laps the length of my slit.
Oh. My. God.
Show and Tell willneverbe the same again.
Chapter 12
Hunter
Over the next few weeks, we fall into a summer routine.
I drive Isabella into Skagway every morning to work at the boutique, then return to Dyea to help out around the campground. Around six, I head back into town to pick her up, unless I’m already there…which I am. A lot.
Though they’ve never been anyone’s favorite tour, I happily volunteer to leadBeers, Brawls, and Brothelsfor July and August because it means I get to spend most of my day in downtown Skagway. I can pop into Isabella’s shop to see her between tours and meet up with her when we’re both done with work for the day.
My willingness to do the Skagway city tours means Tanner and McKenna can do local hikes and bikes together, leaving Parker and Sawyer to handle the Yukon tours and out-of-town groups. My dad takes the rafting trips and historic Chilkoot Trail walks, and Reeve, who’s finally old enough to lead tours on her own, is filling in where she can since Harper became a mom. Maybe someday Harp will come and work for us again, but for now, Wren keeps my sister’s hands full.
Fourth of July, a Stewart family favorite, comes and goes, and is as festive as ever. In fact, for the first time in years, I actually place in the annual axe throwing competition (no doubt because I had someone special cheering me on from the stands).
July fourth is also momentous because I get an email from Allegheny Shipping. My modular cabin kit will be arriving in Skagway harbor on July eleventh, a whole week ahead of schedule. Although I’ve been wanting my own place for years, and it’s been months since I placed the order, the day it arrivesturns out to be a little bittersweet. Why? Because I’ve also loved the yurt that Isabella and I have been sharing for the last few weeks. It’s been its own little slice of heaven.
Tanner and Sawyer give me a hand moving the yurt and its contents from the foundation to the back part of the clearing because we still need somewhere to sleep while my cabin’s being put together by the crew I hired.
By the second week of August, my house will be ready. And two weeks later, the woman who would make my house a home will be leaving. I almost can’t bear it. It’s driving me to desperate places in my mind.
Desperate places…
…like leaving Skagway.
Since Isabella and I have been together this second time, I’ve come to realize how much her family and culture mean to her in a very real, very active, very daily, important way. She talks to her parents every two or three days, conversations she often has over speakerphone, giving me the chance to listen and observe. They start, almost without exception, with updates about myriad family members—first communions, graduations, fights, break-ups, make-ups, moves, celebrations, and scandals—that she follows along seamlessly with giggles and questions. After the family update, there’s time for her to ask about their health and well-being, and for them to remind her to stay warm and “make good choices.” Throughout, the conversation is sprinkled with a healthy dose of Spanish, though they speak primarily in English.
After a few nights of listening to these chats, I realized how much I looked forward to them; almost like a bedtime story or lullaby…the soothing tones of Isabella talking to her parents; of them loving one another, sharing stories, offering advice, and staying close.
She’s also told me more about her students—both at the private school where she works, and at the community center where she teaches English. She’s committed to helping Hispanic immigrants learn English and start their lives in America on as level a footing as possible.
When she used her life in Seattle and close ties with her family as an excuse for breaking off our relationship last summer, I didn’t understand. Not really.Sure, she loves her family,I thought.Heck, I love mine, too.I’m ashamed to admit that in my head, my tone was resentful and dismissive at turns. My ego had a hard time believing that she could place her family so far above a potential love interest that she would break things off instead of pursuing it.