Chapter 4
4
MERRITT
Trouble is sitting at the table that's barely big enough for me, much less the two of us. She's wearing one of my sweaters that swallows her up, but there's no real way to hide the body underneath it all. I've held it, felt it fit so perfectly against me. If that was all it was, though, I'd pass it off as being alone for too long, a physical thing I could power through until she's gone.
Except that it's not just a physical thing. She's been here for hours, and yet she's changed the whole environment of this place. Her very presence is making the cabin brighter and warmer. Just like when we first met, she's unrestrained. Conversation pours from her, and as I was pulling out the hot biscuits, she was a whirl of activity in the small space. She even found a brightly colored quilt in one of the storage chests, and now it's spread across the back of the couch, a visual reminder of how she's affecting things.
Even eating, she's hardly able to sit still. Her leg keeps hitting mine as she shifts her weight on the chair, hands in the air as she describes her trip to a county fair last summer. Her eyes are gleaming, cheeks pink, and her full lips have a shiny spot of honey that I'm sorely tempted to swipe away with my finger.
"And that," she says, "is how I beat all the guys in their funnel cake eating contest. They'll never underestimate a woman again, if they're smart, of course."
I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. It feels so surprising, though, that I have to wonder how long it's been since I've smiled this much in the span of a few hours.
"My luck is holding, though."
That statement has me quirking a brow at her. "How so?"
"Well, let's see. Get rescued from a blizzard by a big, burly mountain man who carries me to his truck, lets me sleep in his nice comfortable bed, gives me warm clothes to wear because I was woefully under dressed, and then makes me a delicious meal. I'm winning, right now."
The summary of our short-lived experience together makes me ask the question that's been simmering in the back of my mind since I saw her lights go spinning off the road.
"What the hell were you doing out in that storm?" My voice is harsher than I intend it to be, but it's because simply saying the words has me silently listing all the things that could've gone wrong if I hadn't been there when it happened. The happy glow about her dims a little, and I want to curse myself for taking some of her shine away. "It was dangerous, Laurel. That's all I'm saying."
She nods, and she looks away, toward where the purse she took from her car is sitting on the bookshelf against the wall.
"It was important. I was trying to find someone. He's staying at the resort, Timber Ridge Peak, and I had to see him. I thought I could get there before the storm. But the drive took longer than I expected, and then I was in the middle of a blizzard. Not exactly like I planned. But it's turned out all right so far."
My heart's turned to stone in my chest. She was driving through a late winter storm in the mountains to meet up with a man? I shouldn't care. The knowledge shouldn't set a jealous fire burning through me, but it does. I'm jealous that there's someone out there she is risking so much to see, and furious that the man she was going to see didn't care enough to warn her about the storm.
Laurel is up, moving over to her purse and pulling some papers from inside. She brings them over to me and holds them out.
"My boss was supposed to sign these papers so the charity I interned for last summer gets the donation they need. The paperwork has to be turned in before the end of the weekend, but he left for a reunion with his fraternity brothers and forgot about these. I heard there was going to be a storm and yes, it was probably silly, but I thought I could get to the resort in time."
She's so earnest in her explanation, her eyes wide and feet firmly planted as she stands in front of me, that I can see the warrior strength behind her usually sunny exterior.
I scan the documents, already filled out completely, ready and waiting for the signature at the bottom.
"What's Rescue and Restoration?" The name of the charity printed on the form sounds interesting, but there's nothing specific to tell me what it means.
"It's a shelter. They rescue animals and hire veterans that are struggling to acclimate to civilian life to work there. They also train some of the rescued dogs to be service animals for veterans. It's really a beautiful place. The whole town is supportive of what they're doing. You'd love it."
"So you drove all the way up here to find a man at a resort so he could sign papers that would guarantee a donation to an animal shelter?" I'm a little dumbfounded at her explanation, but then again, it seems like something the woman in front of me would do.
Her hands land on her full hips and she locks eyes with me. "Yes. I did. They do really good work there, for animals and for people, and the money would be a big help to them. I wasn't going to let them miss out on it because my boss wanted to go party instead of doing something simple like signing a form."
"It's not silly."
Laurel's mouth drops open, like I've surprised her with that statement. "Wait, what?"
"You said it was silly. I don't think what you were trying to do was silly." I hand her the papers, and she takes them from me after a momentary hesitation. "Your heart was in the right place. You were trying to do something good for a cause you clearly care about. The only problem I see is that you weren't prepared in case something went wrong."
A liquid sheen passes over her eyes as she processes my words. She blinks quickly and then takes a shaky breath. "I think that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."
I shake my head. "Now that I don't believe. You're too sweet for people to say anything but nice things about you."
"Oh, people think I'm fun, and most would say I'm kind, but almost all of them would also say I'm impulsive and don't think things through often enough." There are definitely tears in her eyes now and I have to force myself to stay in my seat, so I don't pull her into a hug or kiss away the sadness still lingering from other people's comments. How they don't see the strength and will this woman possesses escapes me. I've been around her for a few short hours and her passion is already clear to me.
And a not-so-secret part of me wishes she'd focus some of that passionate energy on me.
"Well, I may not be nice, but I'm honest. So, trust me when I say, having the strength to do what you believe is right is important. Not everyone has that. They're not always willing to risk themselves to help others. The fact that you tried to do this tells me all I need to know about you."
That pretty flush is back in her cheeks and damn, I can't help but wonder if her whole body is that same pink. Which leads me to imagining more. Like how soft her skin would be if I peeled that too big sweater off her. Or how delicious she would taste if I chased that blush with my mouth.
My cock twitches behind the zipper of my jeans and I swallow down a moan. She's watching me like I'm a puzzle she wants to solve. I don't need her to see how much she affects me. How much I desire her.
Laurel launches forward, and again I'm wrapped up with her arms around my neck. I'm trapped in my chair, unwilling to move, as she hugs me tight. This woman and her attack hugs might kill me. Because it makes it so hard to keep my true feelings locked away, so I don't frighten her off. My brain says this is happening too quickly. But every other part of me is falling fast and hard for this woman who lets her heart lead the way.
"Thank you. Again, oh my gosh, thank you."
I indulge myself by hugging her back, careful not to squeeze her too hard. When she begins to pull back, I release her, intending to let her go and return to the way things were. But she moves to kiss my cheek as I turn that direction, and our lips brush lightly together.
It's like an electric shock straight through my body. Barely any pressure, an innocent accidental connection, but it's enough to set fire to my blood. She's staring at me, her pupils blown wide, the dark center eating up the blue, and damn I want to kiss her again. Really kiss her.
"Oh, I'm sorry." She blinks and I can feel the moment slipping away. "I didn't mean for that to happen."
I can't stop myself confessing the truth. "I'm glad it did."
She freezes, and I can see the movement of her delicate throat as she swallows nervously. Then a shy smile tips her lips up and she asks, "You are?"
"I am. You're a beautiful woman, Laurel, and I've thought about kissing you since I carried you through the snow to my truck." She drags in a breath, and I pray I haven't scared her away. "But you need to understand that your staying here isn't contingent on anything happening between us. More than anything else, I want you to be safe. This place is the safest spot for you while that storm is raging outside. It's that simple. You can sleep here and feel sure that I won't push you to do anything."
She listens, pretty eyes watching me, and then she leans forward, and whispers quietly into my ear. "And what if I do want something to happen?"