Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Cat
L ocking him outside in the cold would be mean, especially after all he’s done for me, but I’m fighting the urge to do just that. Even if it’s only for a few seconds, seeing his terrified, freezing face filling that tiny window would be hilarious.
I clutch the quilt around my shoulders and hurry to the door, though the hurry is more of a stumble as the ground sways. I should probably cut back on the alcohol. Probably should...but probably won’t. It’s the only thing getting me through this time with Bennett.
Standing on my tiptoes, I can just see outside. His headlamp light bobs in the distance, but it’s coming closer. He’s already headed back to the house. And he appears to be running.
With a giggle, I lower myself to flat feet and lock the door. I can’t wait to tell Kindra about this. She’ll regret that she wasn’t here to witness it.
The quilt scrapes my back as I lean against the door and wait for the knob to jiggle. A premature laugh creeps out of me at the thought of his frantic knocking. Payback is a bitch, Bennett Carter.
But the knocks don’t come. Neither do the footsteps on the stairs or the jingling of the doorknob. I stand on my tiptoes again and peer out the window, but I don’t see him. His light has disappeared.
Oh, shit. What if he fell? What if he landed on the ax and now he’s lying in the snow, bleeding out?
I hurry to the hearth and nearly topple over as I stuff my feet into the warm socks. I reach over and give the honey a quick turn, not wanting to shirk my duty while in rescue mode. My brain hasn’t even begun formulating a plan for what I’ll do if I find him injured.
The front door flies open as I’m punching my arms into what I’m pretty sure is not my sweater, and Bennett charges into the room.
“I thought you were hurt!” I croak as I lower the sweater and drop to the floor. The adrenaline has worn off, and not even the alcohol can mask the weakness now.
Bennett releases the wood and an ax to the floor, then hurries over to the fire. “I saw your stupid head in the back door’s window. Figured you locked it, so I headed for the front.”
“I wouldn’t have left you out there for too long.”
“So you locked it, huh?”
“Maybe.”
He shakes his head and smiles. “I can’t blame you. I would have done the same thing. I even considered leaving you in that outhouse for a bit, but you found your way out.”
“Yeah, but you would have missed having someone to torment, so that’s why you came to my rescue.”
“How’d you know that?”
“Because I was thinking the same thing. Oh, shit, the honey.” I scoot forward and turn it. The crystals have dissolved, and the stiff liquid has taken on a more fluid consistency. “Fuck, this looks good enough to eat. Do you think it’s safe?”
“Honey has antibacterial properties, so you don’t have to worry about it spoiling. This jar will be safe to eat for years.” He picks it up and turns it in front of the fire. “I’d say this is almost ready to cook with.”
He places the jar on the hearth, and as he retreats to the stove again, I take a moment to watch him walk away. He’s still wearing nothing more than underwear, his boots, and that ridiculous headlamp, yet there’s something annoyingly sexy about him right now.
I look at the bottle of whiskey and take one more healthy swallow before swearing it off for the night. If I’m having thoughts like that about Bennett, I’m well on my way to oblivion.
Drawers fly open behind me, and a few curses spring from Bennett’s lips. “I want to know which genius forgot to order a can opener when they bought all this canned food.”
Another drawer opens, and he shuts up, so I can only assume he found what he needed. Moments later, more fucks and shits follow.
“Do you need my help?” I ask.
He scoffs. “The day I need your help is the day I need to forget how to breathe.”
I look at the bottle of whiskey and fight the urge to guzzle it. “I have an idea. Why don’t we try to get along for the rest of our time here? Kindra and Ezra are probably on their way with the cavalry as we speak, so it shouldn’t be more than a few hours.”
“About that . . .”
“Before you say whatever you’re about to say, should I take another shot to steel myself?”
“You might want the whole bottle. I sure do.”
Fuck this. He hasn’t even told me yet, and I already want to down what remains.
He dumps a frozen block of chicken meat into a pan, then joins me in front of the fireplace, where he wiggles his fingers for his turn with our new mediator, Jack Daniel’s.
After guzzling a hearty amount, he sighs. “I don’t have the key to the snowmobile at the lift.”
My stomach sinks, but it could be worse. “That won’t stop Kindra. She’ll take the sleigh to the shed at the start of the property and use one of the snowmobiles to get to us. I’m sure they have a spare key.”
“They might have a spare key for the snowmobiles, but they don’t have a spare key for the shed.” He pulls a jangling keyring from his pants pocket on the hearth, and I recognize it. It’s the same set of keys Kindra used on the day we arrived.
I grab the bottle from him and knock it back. I need it more than he does.
“They’ll probably come in the sleigh tomorrow morning,” he says, “so we just have to make it through tonight.”
“Why wouldn’t they come tonight? I have plans!”
Bennett looks at his watch. “If you want to kiss Maverick at midnight, you’d better start walking. It’s eleven forty-five.”
“Just my fucking luck.” I groan and drop my head into my hands. “Why did this have to happen tonight?”
“Maybe it’s for the best. You’re here with me, so there’s no chance of you getting embarrassed after you try to maul the poor guy and then get shut down in front of everyone.”
“Listen, I’m getting really sick of everyone telling me I don’t have a chance with Maverick. Wouldn’t he have told me himself if he wasn’t interested? I mean, my signals are pretty obvious.”
Bennett takes a deep breath, then opens and closes his mouth a few times.
“Just say it,” I groan.
“He’s not into you like that, Cat. He’s afraid to tell you because he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.” He runs his hands through his hair and looks at the floor like he’s the one who just received heart-crushing news.
I scoff and pretend my soul isn’t disintegrating. “Why do you look so sad? It wasn’t as if you were the one pining after someone who’s too nice to tell you off.”
“I just thought it would feel better to burst your bubble. It kind of sucks, if I’m being honest.”
“So the tin man does have a heart,” I whisper to the dying flames.
“Only when I drink,” he says with a laugh as he tips the bottle to his lips again. “Guess I’d better get to chopping some wood, huh?”
He stands and places his hands on his lower back, then leans back to stretch. The alcohol is doing funny things to my emotions too, because the heartache isn’t lingering, and I’m seriously considering what it would be like to lick Bennett’s abs.
I lick my lips and look at the half-empty bottle on the hearth. “Hey, can you let me know when it’s eleven fifty-nine?”
Bennett looks at his watch, then lifts the ax. “It’s eleven fifty-eight, so count to sixty really slow and you should be about there. You can count to sixty, can’t you?”
Rolling my eyes, I drink a bit more and start counting in my head. I need some liquid courage. What I’m about to do might get me killed.
One . . . two . . .
As I count, I watch his muscles tense and relax as he brings the ax down in an arc, over and over. He only misses every few swings, but the way he purses his lips and brings the ax down with more determination on the next swing is kind of sexy.
I don’t even realize I’m biting my lip until it starts to hurt.
Twenty-three . . . twenty-four . . .
A bead of sweat snakes down his forehead and clings to his stubble. The firelight dances within it, reminding me of the honey in the jar. I reach forward and pull it away from the heat. It’s going to evaporate if I leave it there.
And it’s not the only thing at risk of overheating.
Forty-seven . . .
Is this really a good idea?
Forty-eight . . .
I grip the quilt around my shoulders, stand on shaking legs, and step toward Bennett. He stops chopping and turns to face me as he wipes his forehead with his forearm.
“Get too warm by the fire?” he asks.
I shake my head. Fifty-four . . .
“Well, I can’t keep cutting wood if you’re standing in the way. Can you move?”
Sixty .
I drop the quilt and step into him. Fighting off the shock that he hasn’t bolted in the other direction, I take a deep breath and get on my tiptoes and...I kiss Bennett on the mouth.
For a brief moment in time, we forget our feud. We’re just two people lost in a frigid hell, clinging to each other for a New Year’s kiss.
But then Bennett remembers who I am, and his hands go to my hips. He shoves me away and wipes his mouth. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I can’t even answer him. I especially can’t explain why I liked it. Or why I want to do it again.
Then he’s stepping toward me, his eyebrows drawn down and a fiery look in his blue eyes. And I have nowhere to run.