“It means nothing of the sort,” she spat. “You’ve won the battle, but not the war.”
His grin faded, along with the laugh lines. “I don’t want to be at war with you, Clementine.”
The genuine concern written all over his face nearly did her in. “It’s only an expression. We’re not at war.”
“Good.” He offered his hand to help her up.
She took it and tried not to think about how comforting his grasp was. Or about how delicate and feminine she felt standing next to him. Those were dangerous thoughts. The sort of thoughts that would keep her from her destiny. Although sometimes she wondered what exactly that destiny might be. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He peeled a few of her wet ringlets away from her face. “You’re soaked. You should probably get inside.”
Again with the unsolicited advice. Just like Mark. Two could play at that game. “And your hands are freezing. You should do the same.”
Ben jammed his hands into his pockets and nodded his head toward the hotel. “Would you like to get some coffee? They usually have a daily special. I think today it’s something called a toasted marshmallow latte.”
Even the lattes here sounded exotic. Her mouth watered. “That sounds great, but…”
“But?” He swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat.
She swept Nugget into her arms and narrowed her gaze at Ben. “You have to promise not to mention the foot lotion again.”
His jaw visibly clenched. “You mean paw ointment?”
Nugget trembled against her chest. As much as she hated to admit it, Ben was right—she needed to get inside. She hoped that was all he was right about. “You know what I mean.”
“Fine, I’ll drop it.” He released a sigh and picked up his camera bag from where it had fallen in the snow during their snowball fight. “For now.”
As Ben led her to the coffee bar with his hand on the small of her back, Clementine tried not to think about how long it had been since she’d been on a date. There hadn’t been anyone since Mark. Not that this qualified as a date. As inexperienced as she was in the rules of engagement for snowball fights, she supposed this could simply be some sort of truce ritual.
And to be honest, she wasn’t sure if she wanted it to count as a date. Dating didn’t really fit into the adventurous lifestyle she had in mind. Ben was certainly attractive. And so masculine. Nothing at all like the men back home. Beige would be the last word she would ever use to describe him.
He also thought she should spend her time making paw ointment instead of doing what she came here to do.
Let it go. He promised not to mention it again.
“What happened to you two?” The barista slid a single menu across the counter. “You look like a couple of drowned rats. Did you fall in the lake out back?”
“The lake is frozen solid, remember?” Ben nodded toward the big picture window behind the coffee bar. Behind the glass, what Clementine supposed was the lake stretched out like a blank, white canvas.
“That’s right. This is Alaska. I almost forgot, seeing as you look like you just went for a swim.” She cast a suggestive look in Clementine’s direction.
Okay, so maybe this is a date.
She waited for the inevitable feeling of suffocation to set in, like it had every time she even considered dating since breaking things off with Mark.
But the feeling never came.
Instead, she was surprised to find herself overcome by a strange sensation. She glanced over at Ben, sitting beside her. He smiled and she felt light as a feather. She wondered if she might float right off the bar stool and bump heads with the enormous bison looking down on them.
Ben leaned closer. He smelled of spruce and freshly fallen snow, like Alaska itself. “So two toasted marshmallow lattes?”
Clementine opened her mouth and started to order hers skinny, like she always ordered her coffee from the coffee bar down the block from the Nature World offices. The barista raised her brows and waited for an answer. Behind her, Clementine could see a small airplane skidding to a landing on two skis smack in the middle of the frozen lake. She’d never seen a plane with skis before. She didn’t even know such a thing existed. Probably because, like her coffee, everything in her life was boring. No fat, no whip, no sugar.
No life.
She tore her gaze from the plane with the skis and turned to Ben. “That sounds lovely. Can I have mine with extra whipped cream?”
“Of course.” He handed the menu back to the barista. Clementine finally focused on her Northern Lights name badge long enough to notice that her name was Anya. “Two toasted marshmallow lattes. Extra whipped cream on both.”
Anya scribbled a few lines on a notepad. “Coming right up. And I’ll bring a bowl of water for the dogs.”
Kodiak and Nugget lay curled together in the corner, under the belly of a stuffed grizzly bear standing on all fours. Clementine tilted her head and examined the fierce scowl on the bear’s face. “You know, I’ve always thought Pomeranians looked sort of like bears, until now. Nugget doesn’t look at all like that creature.”
Ben laughed. “A teddy bear maybe. But she’s no grizzly.”
“Have you ever seen one?” She focused on the bear’s huge, yellow teeth and gulped. “A live one, I mean?”
“A grizzly?” He shrugged, as if seeing a grizzly bear sauntering down one of Aurora’s sidewalks would be no big deal.
Clementine nodded and forced herself to look away from the bear’s snarl.
“Sure.” Ben took the two fresh lattes from Anya and set one down in front of Clementine. He blew on his, creating a subtle dip in the mountain of whipped cream. “In the summertime, you can see them catching salmon right on the riverbank. That’s why most everyone here carries bear insurance.”
Clementine wrapped her hands around her cup of coffee to warm them, and considered Ben’s comment. “Bear insurance? I don’t think we have coverage for that in Texas.”
He winked at her. “It’s only an expression.”
“For?”
He looked at her over the rim of his coffee cup, and his blue eyes turned serious. “Guns.”
“Oh.” She gripped her cup tighter.
“No one likes to shoot a bear, or any other creature for that matter. And ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s not necessary. But this is Alaska. Things are different here. This can be a dangerous place and it never hurts to be prepared.” His voice was gentle but firm.
Clementine’s eyes widened and she whispered, “Are you telling me I need to get a gun?”
Ben choked on his latte with such force that he popped right off his bar stool. His face turned three shades of red.
“You okay, sport?” Anya asked. Without waiting for an answer, she pushed a glass of water toward him.
He sipped the water and waited until his color returned to a somewhat normal shade before he said anything. Then, finally, he sat down again and spoke through clenched teeth. “I am most definitely not telling you to go out and get a gun. In fact, I forbid you to do any such thing.”
“Forbid me? Ha!” Clementine slung back a gulp of her coffee. The moment it touched her tongue, she decided that fat lattes were infinitely superior to skinny lattes. “You can’t tell me what to do, Ben Grayson. You don’t even know me. You, you…lotion peddler.”
“For the last