Wild Ice by Rachelle Vaughn Read Free Book Online

didn’t get much traffic, so it must be someone on their way to the refuge. Lauren looked forward to meeting some fellow birders in the area. Maybe they’d stop to chat and exchange stories about their sightings.
    The fancy black SUV had dark tinted windows and looked ominous barreling down the road the way it was. Tires gritted through the gravel kicking up dust behind it. It wasn’t someone who worked at the refuge because they drove pea green pick-up trucks.
    Lauren gave a friendly wave , but the SUV kept moving without even slowing down.
    Dark sunglasses shielded the driver’s eyes—a male by the looks of his athletic build—and he barely lifted two fingers from the steering wheel in response.
    Lauren chuckled to herself. The man was probably lost and too stubborn to ask for directions. She shrugged and turned back around to assess her work.
    Men. You couldn’t live with them and you couldn’t move to the middle of nowhere and escape them.

Chapter Four
    The Man of Teal Manor
     
    When JD walked into his state-of-the-art modern kitchen, he heard a sad cooing coming from outside. Great. Some bird had really dialed in on the sound of grief. It was just the sort of eerie, melancholy sound he needed to start off his day.
    Just like every other day, JD spent the morning on autopilot. He made coffee, fed Mel, and then worked out in his home gym. He didn’t exercise because he needed to maintain the physique of a professional athlete anymore, but because it was something to do to pass the time. Immersing himself in exercise was the only way to get through the pain. Or so he told himself. The pain he inflicted on his body with his brutal exercise regimen was nothing compared to the pain that ate away at his soul these days.
    For the past year and a half, JD had rigorously kept himself in game-day ready shape. Not because he was ready to play, but because it was really the only thing there was to do besides watch TV. It would be easy to go a little batty if it wasn’t for his weight room. He could run dozens of mindless miles on the treadmill without a single thought crossing his mind. It was easy to watch the numbers tick by on the display.
    After his morning run, JD would zone out and focus on the dumbbells in his hands or do ten more push-ups or twenty more crunches. Every day he pushed his body harder and harder. Out of spite or as punishment or just because he had something he needed to prove. He did all of the workouts he used to do with a personal trainer, now he just did them on his own. The thoughts in his head were drowned out with a voice pushing him harder.
    When his workout was done, he parked himself in front of the TV and caught up on the day’s news and watched old action movies. The uncomplicated plots and plentiful action kept his mind off his grief. Then he’d eat some boxed mac and cheese and drift off to sleep.
    Waking up alone every morning was tough. When he played hockey for the Red Valley Razors, he was used to sleeping alone on road trips, but the team would eventually return home and Darla would be back in his bed. This wasn’t a road trip. This was his new (and unimproved) life where he slept alone every single night, week after week, month after agonizing month.
    To avoid that empty bed, JD stayed up late watching TV and usually fell asleep in his recliner. It was comfortable enough and it solved the problem of waking up alone altogether. Mel didn’t seem too bothered by JD’s sleeping arrangement. He slept at JD’s feet with his chin on his paws or snuggled into his dog bed in the corner and snored like a moose. They both had their own routines, each one aware of the other and careful not to get in each other’s way.
    If it weren’t for his big oaf of a dog, JD would have gone weeks without speaking to anyone. He ignored the calls on his cell phone and didn’t even have a landline hooked up. They were completely and utterly alone in Hayley’s Point, just the way JD wanted it to