Churchill, At Last!
Churchill hugged the edge of the Hudson Bay, a cluster of shops and boxy buildings between broad roads. Not an attractive town but an efficient one. Fiona wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but hopefully the town would appear bigger and more interesting in daylight. A few lights twinkled from windows through the gentle fall of yet more snow, but not a single vehicle or pedestrian showed their presence as they passed through.
“Where do you live?” she asked.
“We have a warehouse near the airport and the polar bear jail,” Stig explained. “We converted part of the warehouse into living accommodation, and my brothers and I share the space.”
“There is a jail for polar bears?” Fiona asked, diverted by the notion.
“Sometimes a bear wanders into town and creates a nuisance. If they’re hungry, they can attack the humans.”
Humans? Didn’t he mean people? One of them? “Has a polar bear ever attacked you?”
“Yes,” Kirk said. “When I was younger. I was lucky. I fought it off and escaped.”
Fiona gasped at his easy acceptance and clapped her hand over her mouth. She stared at him for a long moment. “Do you have any scars?”
“No, I healed fast,” he said with a shrug as if the attack meant nothing.
“The ladies like scars,” Stig commented, and his grin tugged at her, curving her lips in a return smile.
They were good at that—tossing their charm around in a casual manner and turning her into a puddle of goo. Robert had seldom smiled at her—not after their marriage. Perhaps the charm and smiles from these two handsome, easy-going men made her react with such lustful intensity. She was lapping up the affection she’d missed.
“Fiona, do you like scars?” Kirk asked, his tone edging right in to flirtation.
“Not me.” Fiona shoved a lock of hair away from her face and concentrated on appearing unaffected by Hottie One and Hottie Two. “Not if the person suffered before they healed enough to have scars. The pain they experienced before they healed makes me sad.”
Kirk continued driving down the wide street until the street lights ended and only their headlights lit the road ahead.
“That’s the airport there.” Stig pointed, and she gazed in the direction he indicated as they drove past.
“What is that building? Is that your place?”
“Nope. That is the polar bear confinement facility, locally known as the polar bear jail. In the daylight you’ll see a mural on the side. A local artist painted it and used the contours of the building to make a giant polar bear,” Kirk told her. “Different artists painted murals around the town. Our buildings don’t have much in the way of character, but we have cool paintings. They lock up nuisance bears and release them back into the wild later, if it’s possible. The orphan cubs usually go to the Winnipeg zoo.”
Stig flung his arm around her shoulders and drew her against his side. “Are you excited to be here?”
“I can’t wait to see more.” Nothing less than the truth.
A place far away from Robert, filled with sexy brothers who liked her and wanted to show her how much. This adventure would help her find herself again after her marriage failure. So far, shelikedthe person she was discovering.
Kirk turned down a narrow road she would’ve missed if she’d been alone. Five minutes later, he pulled up outside a ginormous steel-gray warehouse. It towered over Bess, the darkness making it creepy—the perfect venue for a Halloween party.
Lights sprang on without warning and a set of big, double doors opened with a creaking protest. Kirk edged Bess into the warehouse and switched off the motor.
“Home sweet home, honey pie,” Stig whispered.
He helped her down from Bess and stretched, raising his arms above his shoulders.
A man appeared from an office. He was big—as big as Arve—but he lacked the muscular bulk. Broad shoulders filled out a plain blue shirt with perfection while his jeans were tight and showcased his trim hips and muscular thighs. His hair was the color of her favorite salted caramel sweets and the strands hung in waves around his head, the ends touching his shoulders. He smiled, a charming smile that reached all the way to his golden-brown eyes.
“You must be Fiona,” he said.
“Hello to you too,” Kirk snapped. “Good job getting the first load here on time, even though you had to go through a big-ass storm to get here.”
“This is Leif. He’s our oldest brother,” Stig said, not sounding happy either.
Leif ignored his brothers and took possession of her hand. He drew her nearer, and without taking his gaze off her, he lifted her hand to his mouth.
