Northern Fires Read Online Free PDF Page B

she retreated a bit into her shell. What had he said wrong?
    It was just as he’d known from the get-go—the woman would be a boatload of trouble to figure out, and who needed that?
    “Yeah, there is. What do you say we eat out here? I do most evenings. Even if I eat at Gus’s I usually wind up out here at some point before I go to bed. Of course, that’s since it’s warmed up.”
    “The porch would be fine. I like being outdoors and it’s a nice view of the lake and the sky.”
    “I’ll grab dinner.”
    “Need any help?” She shifted forward as if to get up.
    “Nope. I’ve got it covered.” He stopped at the door. “What can I get you to drink? Beer? Milk? Water? I’m not a wine drinker.”
    “Water sounds good. Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
    The place was kind of a mess. He wasn’t the neatest guy and he almost never had guests. “No. I think I can manage two plates and drinks. Mind if I have a beer?”
    “Of course not.” There was a hint of searching in her regard, as if she was looking for some deeper meaning.
    “I’ll be right back then.” Sven stepped into the cabin, closing the door behind him. He picked up yesterday’s shirt and jeans and tossed them into the bedroom just in case she decided to come in. He did a quick bathroom reconnaissance. Not too bad.
    The cabin was essentially one big room with a separate bedroom and bathroom. From the kitchen, where he filled two plates with roast, potatoes and carrots, he could see Juliette through the front window. Even though she looked peaceful enough on the porch, there was a tension in the line of her shoulders.
    A loon, with its distinct cry, called from the lake. Dalton had told him the pair returned year after year to spend the summer. Interesting creatures those loons—they mated for life.
    He left the plates on the table and carried another chair outside, Juliette’s water glass in his other hand. “Dinner’s coming right up.”
    She took the glass, her fingers brushing his, sending a jolt through him. “Thanks.”
    He went back in, picked up the plates and utensils and brought them out to the porch. She took her plate and he settled in the empty kitchen chair.
    “Hope you enjoy it,” Sven said as he automatically tipped his chair back until it rested against the cabin wall.
    “It smells delicious,” she said, fork in hand.
    “Dig in.” He loaded his fork with a piece of meat and a potato chunk, suddenly ravenous.
    She took a bite and a slow smile lit her brown eyes. “Delicious,” she said when she finished chewing and swallowing. “You do know your way around a Crock-Pot.”
    Inordinately pleased with her compliment, he found he was glad he’d been the one to put that smile on her face. “Glad you like it.”
    She gestured with her fork, at the vista before them. “I understand why you sit out here most evenings.”
    The sun slanted onto the covered porch. Sven always thought of this as “the golden hour.” Now he stared at Juliette, transfixed by her radiance as the light burnished her hair and skin. Something inside him shifted and fell into place, like when he was notching logs and got the fit just right.
    She glanced at him. “Sven?”
    He shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him? It had to be that crazy conversation with Jenna. “Uh, yeah. It is a pretty awesome view, isn’t it?”
    For what could’ve been one second or minutes, their gazes locked, ensnared. Gold flecked her smoky-brown eyes. His gut tightened and he had the most incredible urge to bridge the space between them and test the smoothness of her skin with his fingertips. Her eyes darkened as if she’d read his desire and wanted the same. Juliette finally looked away.
    “So,” she prompted, a husky note flavoring her voice that held a Southern undertone. “You had some ideas about the set?” She speared a carrot with her fork, looking at her plate as if the contents fascinated her.
    Sven shifted on the hard chair and checked