Chapter 20
CY
Sydney’s scream still rings in my ears. The hair on the back of my neck still stands at attention and my heart continues to race.
When that four-wheeler barreled toward her, I didn’t think.
I reacted instinctively. Knocking her out of the way and rolling so I didn’t crush her. But it was close. Too close.
I hold her tighter as I start down the road, fucking praying we run into the SUV soon.
“Do you want your other boot?” I ask, stopping next to it where it lies in the middle of the road.
She shakes her head, her teeth chattering harder.
The temperature has to have dropped twenty degrees since the rain started.
“O-o-only if I can b-b-burn it when w-w-we—”
“I get it,” I tell her.
Fuck. Her lips are almost purple with cold, and the snow is starting to fall harder.
Shifting, I hold her with one arm. Then I dig into my pocket for my phone. Hoping for a signal.
No bars.
“God dammit.”
“N-n-no s-s-signal?” she chatters out.
“Nothing.”
Fuck, we need to get out of here. It took thirty minutes to get here by car. We can’t walk all the way back to the lodge, and we need to get out of this storm.
I keep my eyes peeled for ATVs as I cross one path that hints at a formal four-wheeling setup, then another. This place might be fun to explore when I’m not busy freezing my ass off.
Up ahead is another path. This one is wider, like it’s built for cars. Squinting, I survey the building ahead. The lights are on and smoke curls from the chimney.
Thank Christ. A warm place to wait for the storm to pass, and all signs tell me someone is there.
Let’s hope they’re friendly.
As I turn off the road, Sydney lifts her head from my chest.
“W-w-where are you g-g-going?” she asks.
I nod toward the cabin. “Somewhere warm. Hopefully they have a way to get in contact with the lodge.”
But when I reach the cabin and knock, there’s no answer.
“Hello?” I shift Sydney’s slight weight to one arm and knock harder.
The sign to the left of the door reads Northstar Cabin. Is this part of the lodge? I thought we had the whole place to ourselves.
I knock one more time, and when I still don’t get an answer, I try the doorknob. It turns smoothly, and instantly, a wave of heat hits us. The stark contrast between the cold air outside and the warm air inside pulls me in. In my arms, Sydney moans quietly, her eyes closed.
“Hello? Anyone here?” I ask, setting her down on the couch by the door.
A fire glows happily in the fireplace, the crackling and popping of burning wood the only sound.
The place is small. The kitchenette is equipped with a microwave, minifridge, and coffee maker.
Aside from the couch where Sydney is sitting, there are two overstuffed chairs.
Then there’s the massive king-size bed. The mantel is decorated with burning candles, and next to the chair closest to the fireplace, a bottle of wine chills in a bucket.
Holy shit. Somebody went to a lot of trouble. And here we are, interrupting their romantic evening. I feel bad, yes, but we can’t go back out in that. I’ll make it up to them.
“Hello?” I call out again, louder this time.
Still no answer.
Sydney scans the place, though she stays perched on the couch, still racked with shivers.
“W-what is this place?” At least the chattering of her teeth has slowed and color is coming back to her lips.
“Part of the lodge maybe? Like a separate rental cabin?”
“Did you set this up?” she asks, her focus narrowed on me.
I wish I had. I didn’t even know this was an option when Mara and Alicia helped me plan out this week’s dates.
“Abso-fucking-lutely not. I didn’t even realize this was here.”
“Maybe somebody from the production team is staying here.” She shivers again. Though her words come out stiffly, her tone has returned to normal.
“Could be. Or the owner of the lodge?” I spy a phone on the nightstand next to the bed and walk over to check it out.
It looks like a hotel phone, with several buttons, each labeled with an extension, including one that reads front desk.
Definitely part of the lodge.
I lift the receiver, but I’m met with silence. The storm probably knocked the phones out. I check my cell phone again, though I already know what I’ll find. No bars.
“Why is this place empty? Someone has to be nearby, at least,” Sydney says.
“Maybe they’re still on their way.” I open the single door in the place other than the one we entered through and find a bathroom with a massive shower and soaking tub.
A drip of ice water from my hair slips down my neck and settles under my henley, eliciting a shiver.
I grab two of the towels and take one to Sydney while I use the other to dry my hair.
“Here,” I offer the white cotton to her.
She takes it with a sigh. “Thanks.”
I wander to the armoire in the corner next. Inside, I find two big blankets. I pull those out, telling myself I’ll make all of this up to the person staying here. With the weather the way it is, I have hope that they won’t be too upset.
I drop the blankets by the fireplace, then shuffle to the couch and slip one arm behind Sydney’s back and the other beneath her knees.
“What are you doing?” she asks, batting at my hands.
“Moving closer to the fire while we wait. Your lips are still too pale.” With that, I haul her up and cradle her to my chest.
“I can walk,” she snaps.
“Really? Your ankle has miraculously healed in the five minutes we’ve been here?”
“Maybe,” she huffs.
In front of the fireplace, I slide her down my body slowly, holding back the groan that wants to escape. She feels so damn good.
My ability to go from wet and cold to turned on in the span of a few heartbeats can only be because of Sydney.
“Try to put a little weight on that foot. Test it.” It has to hurt, and the cold didn’t do either of us any favors.
She obeys without arguing—shockingly—and shifts. Instantly, she hisses and shifts back.
Dammit. I want to scoop her up, to relieve that pain, but she has to at least try.
“Can I take a look?” Grasping her upper arms, I guide her closer to the hearth, then help her ease to the floor.
She nods, chewing on her lip like she’s preventing another sarcastic retort from flying out of her mouth. I met her a matter of days ago, and already, I know her well enough to know it’s her go-to response.
It takes effort, but I manage to pry the shoe from her left foot. Under it, her ankle is already swollen and angry.
I probe gently, then search her face for signs of pain. “Does it hurt right now?” I ask, not adding additional pressure to her ankle.
Her body tightens, but she doesn’t wince. “Not really. Just when I put weight on it.”
“Sprained probably.” I’m reluctant to let her foot go, but I have no reason to continue to touch her.
With a sigh, I force myself to gently lower her foot to the floor. I wrap one of the blankets around her. Then I shuck out of my henley and wrap the second around myself.
She ducks under the blanket, and a second later, she comes out with her sweater and bra clutched in her hand.
Ignoring the way my dick kicks against the wet fabric of my jeans, I hold out a hand. “Here.” My voice is strangled, almost unrecognizable, as I spread our shirts over the fireplace screen and hang her bra from a handle of the tools next to it.
I shouldn’t be imagining what she looks like beneath that thick blanket. I’ve spent plenty of time around half-dressed women before.
Women you wanted the way you want Sydney, though?
The answer to that is no.
At least none that I can recall.
“The phones are down,” I say in an attempt to fill the silence and distract myself from my thoughts.
She wiggles under the blanket again, making it impossible to ignore her.
“What are you doing?” I finally ask.
“Trying to get wet fucking jeans off. Have you ever tried? It feels like my legs are encased in concrete.”
“Do you want help?” Surprisingly, my voice remains relatively steady as I ask. Though I don’t know that it was a good idea to offer. My own wet jeans tighten more, keeping my growing erection under wraps for now.
“If it means getting warm enough to feel my toes again, yes.”
It takes a moment to work out a plan. In the end, she keeps the blanket wrapped around her and I reach under and tug the pants down her legs.
This is a really bad idea.
Or the best one I’ve had in a while.
I can’t decide as I slip my hands under the blanket. With my eyes locked with hers, I shimmy the wet denim over her hips, the backs of my fingers brushing ice-cold skin. Between her wiggles and my tugs, it only takes moments to free her.
“I will never take warmth for granted again.” She sighs, stretching out next to the fire and closing her eyes.
I follow her lead, turning around and shedding my wet denim, then wrapping the blanket around my body to hide how hard I am for her. How worked up I am just thinking about her beneath that blanket wearing nothing but a pair of panties.
“Hopefully we don’t scare the people who rented this cabin too badly,” I say.
“They probably have a car. Maybe they’ll drive us back to the lodge,” she suggests.
With a grunt, I stand, then cross to the window and peer out. There’s no sign of the SUV—of any car. Even our footsteps have been covered up by the falling snow.
“Oh man,” she says behind me.
“What? What’s the matter?” I turn away from the growing storm outside, focusing completely on the woman who’s created one inside me.
“We didn’t get to eat the strawberries.” She sticks her lower lip out in a pout.
Fuck. I close my eyes, hold my breath, and pray for control.
I’m trying hard to be respectful. To not kiss her. Not unless she asks. But I didn’t realize how hard it would be.
Literally.
I give my crotch a subtle look to ensure I’m still fully covered, then wander to the kitchen and open the mini fridge.
“There are strawberries here, but they’re not chocolate covered,” I tell her. “Cheese, grapes, and a few kinds of meats.”
“The people who bought the food might be upset if we eat it. Don’t you think?” she asks. “But I’m starving.”
“I’ll pay to replace it all. Sit tight,” I tell her. “I’ll bring it over.”
It takes a few trips to get all the snacks from the kitchenette to the coffee table, but once I do, I drag it over to Sydney.
“Think they’ve realized we’re not at the top of the mountain yet?” she asks, popping a grape into her mouth.
“Maybe? It’s been long enough.” I pluck a cube of cheese and a piece of prosciutto off the plate and shove both into my mouth.
We fall silent for several heartbeats, both collecting more snacks.
“Hopefully they’ll figure out we found shelter. No one needs to be out driving in this. Especially on a mountain in the dark,” I say.
But more than that, I want to be alone with Sydney. When no one else is around, I get the real her. And I like the real her.
“Is it getting dark?” She lifts her chin and looks toward the window.
I lift a shoulder and let it drop. “A little, mostly because of the storm, I think. The sun hasn’t set yet.”
Humming, she picks up a strawberry. As she takes a bite, a sexy as hell moan escapes her.
My dick reacts predictably and my hands itch with the urge to touch her. To pull her close to me.
She moans around the strawberry again, unaware of what that sound is doing to me.
Eyes screwed shut, I fist my hands. “BB, I’m going to need you to stop making those noises,” I grit out.
“Hmm. Why?” Yeah, totally unaware of her appeal. And that only makes it hotter.
Fuck, she’s playing with fire, and she doesn’t even realize it. I’m holding on to control by a thread. The sound and the knowledge that she’s practically naked beneath the bulky blanket affect me far more than they should.
I keep my eyes closed as I answer her.
“Because every time you moan, it makes me want to find out whether I can pull that same sound from you.”
She doesn’t answer, and the silence grows between us until I can’t stand it anymore and open my eyes.
She’s staring at me, curiosity in every line on her face.
Slowly, she swallows, the move is visible along the column of her throat.
It draws my attention to the pulse that beats erratically at the base, beckoning to my lips like a siren.
But now is not the time to act on the need that pounds rhythmically through my blood.
Our ride could show up any minute. The inhabitants of this cabin could be here soon. We need to focus on getting warm and dry.
“We should find a way to kill the time while we wait,” I say. If I don’t find a distraction immediately, I’ll end up hauling her into my lap.
She peruses the space, her lips pressed together.
“Like what? There isn’t even a TV.”
I haul myself up, making sure to keep the blanket bunched in the front to hide my erection, and rifle through drawers.
“What are you looking for?” she asks.
I look back at her over my shoulder, and god damn my luck. At that exact moment, the blanket slides off her shoulder, exposing more of that skin I want to get my hands on.
Holding my breath, I turn back and double my efforts.
“A pack of cards or a puzzle or a board game or something…” I open a drawer and come face to face with a giant box of condoms. Heart lurching, I slam it shut again.
Not helping.
Whoever’s staying here is clearly prepared for everything. And they’re definitely going to be pissed when they discover us here. Coitus interruptus.
She slips her fingers under the edge of the coffee table and lifts, exposing a hidden cubby full of board games. “Like these?”
“Exactly like those, BB.”
I stalk back over and pluck out the pack of cards. I don’t have the bandwidth for Scrabble or Monopoly.
“Ever play war?” I ask her with a smirk.
She smiles.
“Bring it on, Darby.”