Chapter 16
Jason
Nothing makes a woman more off-limits than when she’s suddenly relying on you in a blizzard-induced power-outage.
Things were about ten seconds away from getting out of hand on Casey’s porch, and I’m pretty sure that Sunday’s electric cutting out was an act of divine intervention. Partially because it stopped me from trying it on with her too soon, but also because it’s given her a huge distraction.
She’s still shaken and cold from almost getting stranded, but now she’s also a little excited. Seeing as she can’t stay at Casey’s cabin with no light or heat, she’s now riding shot-gun in my truck as I take her to my place.
She changed out of her soaked puffer jacket but she’s still in those snow-speckled jeans, and she’s got her cowgirl boots crossed toward me as I steer my truck out of Main Street.
Seeing as her only other option was a pair of stilettos, it seemed like the cowgirl boots would work best for now. Her snow-boots are currently thawing out in the back of my truck, although I can’t deny that I wouldn’t mind having her stilettos chilling in here with them.
“How far up the mountain is it?” she asks, eyes wide as she takes in the view of the pines and peaks.
“It’s near the base,” I tell her, hooking an arm around the back of her seat. “I’ve got decent internet and cell service so if you have any Nashville work to do you can get that done up here no problem.”
We haven’t talked about how long she’s going to crash at my place for but, unless an external maintenance team can get to Casey’s, my plan is to head to his cabin tomorrow. For all we know, the electric problem might be a neighbourhood issue, so I’ll call some of the crew later and see if any of their places have been affected.
It takes over an hour with the snow to finally reach the inclining terrain, snow-topped trees bordering the path as I take us steadily up the lower mountain.
And after another ten minutes, I take the turn toward the cabin.
The driveway that I shovelled this morning is already dusted with a layer of snow and I pull the truck to a stop in the clearing so that Sunday can take it in.
She unbuckles her seatbelt so fast I almost chuckle.
“This is your place?” she squeals, spinning to face me with excited eyes.
Smile creases dent my cheeks. “Yeah, sweetheart. It’s all mine.”
A laugh escapes her throat as she turns in her seat, doing a three-sixty. I sit back and spread out my quads, watching the curve of her waist as she leans and bends.
She twists back to face the house, eyes wide as she drinks it in – the large glass window that runs two storeys from ground to peak, and the deep brown wood that compliments the snow-covered landscape.
The garage is off to the right and set behind the house, one-storey but wide because I also use it as a workshop. And beside the garage is the sturdy log-beamed vehicle shelter, my black search-and-rescue snowmobile parked dead centre.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathes.
She smiles up at me and I murmur, “Yeah.”
Then I give her fluffy ponytail a little squeeze, making her laugh as I open up my door.
“Stay here,” I tell her, grinning when she impishly slides her hand along the door handle, a mischievous smile on her lips as if she’s going to open the door before I can do it for her.
I jump down onto the drive, rounding the hood of my truck, and then I pull open her door, unable to stop my grin as she giggles playfully.
She steps carefully down onto the snow and I reach in behind her to pull out her bag, closing the door with the back of my shoulder and watching her to gauge how much she likes it.
When she turns back to face me, she has a playful sparkle in her eyes.
She places her hands on her hips and rasps, “So you’re a mountain man.”
My dimples pull tight. “Damn straight, I am.”
And then she’s screaming in delight as I shove my shoulder into her belly, laughing uncontrollably as I toss her over my back and start storming toward the house.
“I thought I was going to get a tour!” she squeals.
“Yeah, after you change out of those pants.”
After spending way too much time in the cold while Casey’s truck was stuck in the snow we decided that Sunday should wait before she showers so that she doesn’t shock her system with too much heat too quickly. Which makes this situation even more perfect because this way I can keep her upbeat and distracted, so that she isn’t thinking about how frozen she is as she tries to reacclimatise to a better temperature.
I unlock the front door and haul my bounty inside, feeling Sunday’s thighs move under my palms as she tries to lift up and look around.
I give her a hard spank on the ass. “No peeking.”
“Hey!” she screams with laughter and then delivers a spank of her own.
Amusement crinkles around my eyes and I chuckle as I kick off my boots, and then I’m lifting Sunday’s ankles so that I can haul hers off, too.
I tug the first boot free and drop it unceremoniously to the ground, easily pulling off the next one as I stroll toward the stairs.
I toss that one over my shoulder and get another spank in response.
I give the back of her thigh a firm squeeze. “Oh, you’ve asked for it now.”
She wiggles against my back, squealing, “Aw man, what now ?”
And then I’m racing up the stairs, making Sunday scream as she bounces over my shoulder.
“Jason!” she giggles, slapping hard at my back, and like a derby-winning racehorse it only encourages me to go faster.
By the time that we reach the top she’s wheezing with laughter and my chest is heaving with satisfaction as I stride us toward the guest room.
I kick open the door and tell her, “This is your room.”
“Looks great,” Sunday deadpans, seeing as the only view she’s getting right now is of my ass. But then she’s laughing again as I bounce her roughly on my shoulder.
I brace my thighs, grip her waist, and then I toss her straight down into the centre of the mattress, making her throw her head back with laughter as she lands splayed in the middle of the comforter.
My gaze roams slowly down her body until I’m looking at her parted thighs, my cock hardening at the sight of her and how hot she looks in front of me.
She sits up on her elbows, peeking up at me with that playful smile.
I throw her carry-on beside the bed, amusement flickering in my eyes.
“Get changed. Then I’ll give you the tour.”
She points toward the entrance of the room and teases, “Close the door on your way out.”
I smirk as I loom over her. “I’ll be right outside.”
“Close it the whole way,” she stresses, making me chuckle as I start easing the door shut. “No peeking, remember?”
I laugh quietly and close the door, thinking touché .
I wait for her on the landing, overlooking the open-plan sitting room and kitchen, hoping that she brought enough stuff with her in that carry-on just in case the power issue can’t get fixed overnight.
She’s out in less than two minutes, wearing a pair of thermal pants and a baby blue jumper. I stare at it for a beat before bringing my eyes back to her face.
“Tour?” she asks excitedly.
I nod. “Damn straight.”
I show her around each room on the upper-level, although she gets pretty shy about my bedroom and barely spares it half a glance.
Then I take her hand in mine, leashing our fingers together as we walk down the stairs.
At the bottom I slip on my boots from earlier but Sunday’s boots are still fucking drenched, so I give her an extra pair of thermal socks and then she tentatively tries on a pair of mine.
They’re obviously way too big for her but, secretly, I’m a fan.
And since our touch-barrier is officially broken I don’t hesitate the second that her fingers are free, enveloping her small palm with mine and then holding her securely as she checks out the downstairs.
I point toward the open-plan rooms as I tug her casually past them.
“Living room, kitchen.”
Sunday laughs. “No please, spare me the details.”
I smirk and give her chilled fingers a firm squeeze with mine. “Internet connection is better down here, so you can set your laptop by the couches if you wanna get any work done.”
She hesitates and then squeezes me back. “Thanks,” she says softly.
I’m not sure what Sunday’s work situation is right now, and she’s sure as shit not biting the bait when I try to get it out of her.
I don’t know how long I’ve got her back in town for, so I’m just gonna make the most of the here and now.
The kitchen is all wood and open-plan, making it bright and cosy, and Sunday looks appreciative as hell as she slides her fingertip over the counter. I don’t realise what she’s thinking until her eyes finally meet mine.
“You built this place,” she says gently.
I search her eyes for a moment. Then I nod.
“Wow.”
“Thanks.”
She laughs quietly and shakes her head at me before teasingly mouthing mountain man .
I smile and squeeze her hand, before grabbing one of my search-and-rescue jackets by the back door.
I hold it up for her to slip her arms into and jerk my chin at her. “Put this on.”
She tucks her arms into the sleeves and I help pull it around her shoulders until she’s fully enveloped. Then I open the door so that she can step onto the roofed back deck and she spins around in surprise as something beneath the wooden canopy catches her eye.
“You’ve got a hot tub?” she exclaims.
I laugh and try not to go too red as I lean against one of the porch posts. “You like it?”
“Of course I like it!” She peeks under the tarp that’s covering it, and then glances back at me. “Can we use it?”
I watch her in silence, my chest rising a little faster.
Can… we use it?
As in… together?
I search her eyes with mine and then say, “Of course.”
I only use the hot tub when I’ve been on a long SAR mission and the cold from the higher mountains has made my back muscles tighten. But right now, I’ve never been happier to have built it into my deck.
I gather Sunday against my side and walk us a little further forward, out from under the wooden canopy of the back porch and into the snow, toward the workshop. Because this is what I really want to show her – the kind of work that I’m doing now. I want her to know how secure everything is, how she doesn’t ever need to worry about me – anything to help convince her that the reason why we went our separate ways all those years ago is no longer an obstacle in our path.
It’s just us – her and me – and there’s nothing standing in our way anymore.
Her eyes flicker toward the garage then up to me as I walk us closer.
I grab my keys from my pants and start unlocking it as she watches me.
“When I’m doing preliminary work on a project, this is where you’ll find me,” I tell her, not to mention it’s also where Mitch comes to build his joinery pieces when his garage is full and he needs extra space to work.
I haul up the garage door and let Sunday step inside ahead of me, both of us keeping our fingers twined together because it just feels too damn good.
She looks around the space, at the tools on the walls and the saw-horses, until her gaze lands on my desk, which is made with deep brown hardwood. It’s simple and sturdy, exactly what I need when I’m checking out plans for a project.
The garage interior is made with darker logs than the timber of the main house, making the space look warm and intimate even without any lighting on.
She glances up at me with an amused smile and says, “So this is your man cave.”
I chuckle quietly and squeeze her hand. “The whole place is my man cave, baby.”
“Or bachelor pad,” she adds huskily, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, and then she releases my fingers and starts sashaying back outside.
And I just watch her walk for a moment, the swish of her hips as she wades through the snow.
The fluffy blonde curls, her blushing cheeks, and those fitted baby blue thermals… yeah, she’s beautiful, and exactly the kind of view you want to wake up to every morning.
With a deep inhale, I press the heel of my palm against my groin, and then I follow outside behind her, taking her lead as she inspects the cabin.
And then she stops exactly where I want her to, right in front of the snowmobile that I last rode a few days ago.
She looks up at me from under her lashes as she carefully points a finger toward the handles.
I give her a nod, letting her know that she’s free to touch it, and her gaze drops back to the vehicle, curious uncertainty dancing in her eyes.
“This is what you ride when you go to rescue people?” she asks quietly, her fingers barely a millimetre away from the brake and, for some reason, I want her to touch it. I want to share this with her. To make it real, something tangible, not just some unspoken thing between us.
“Search-and-rescue,” I reply. “Depending on the situation, sometimes it’s only a search.”
Her lashes flutter in understanding, her brows drawing close at what that means. The fact that sometimes a mission doesn’t have the outcome you were hoping for.
“Each case is different, so it’s not always about people getting lost in the wilderness. Sometimes people find things that they think should be checked out, other times it’s to do with illegal hunting. The job is convenient because it’s right on my doorstep, but I’m not a full-time ranger – I only volunteer in the winters.”
I know that Sunday has always been concerned about people putting themselves in danger, but I’m willing to accept some of the risks if it means preventing something bad from happening.
She hesitates for a moment and then she wraps her palm around the handle.
And my chest swells on a deep inhale as I step up behind her.
“You can sit on it if you want,” I rumble. “I promise it’s real sturdy.”
She peeks up at me from under her lashes and teases, “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
I shake my head as I chuckle quietly, my heart pounding as I rub a palm down my jaw.
And I can’t help but check her out as she steps forward, my quad muscles flexing as I take her in.
“Here,” I tell her roughly, gripping her hips as she tries to mount the seat. The vehicle is so wide that she lets out an oof when she’s finally straddling it.
“It’s huge,” she rasps, then she laughs because it sounds like she’s being naughty again.
I scrub my knuckles over my smile creases. “Yeah, I guess it’s pretty big.”
She gives me a playful shove in the abdomen and I settle both of my palms over her shoulders, loving the feeling of having her here and wondering how she’ll react to what I’m about to offer her.
Now that I’m no longer in the Army, I don’t want her to worry about any of the shit that I do for work, and the best way for her to lose those fears is if she faces them head-on.
If I can show her that I’m safe and capable then there’ll be nothing in our way to finally start up what I’ve spent a fucking lifetime longing for.
“I’m gonna try and get Casey’s power up and running tomorrow,” I tell her. “But, in case that doesn’t work, I was thinking we could go for a ride.”
Sunday spins around on the seat, eyes wide as she looks up at me.
“On this ?” she squeaks.
“What other kind of ride were you hoping for?”
She rolls her eyes in amusement but her cheeks flush the prettiest shade of pink.
“Yeah, on the snowmobile,” I rumble teasingly. “I’ll take you up the mountain so you can see the valley.”
“Haven’t we just learned that I’m not the best with moving vehicles?”
“That had nothing to do with your driving. It’s not your fault that an elk shot out like that.”
That blush gets a little darker and I squeeze her shoulders, not wanting her to go all shy on me.
Ever since Sunday started learning to drive way back in high school she was always nervous about being on the roads. But when she took my truck for a spin in my senior year, the only problem I saw were her own self-doubts. She’s meticulous as fuck, making her probably one of the safest drivers out there, but the conditions in these small towns means that there’s always an unseen danger that you need to factor in.
“What d’you say?” I ask gruffly, hoping like hell that she’ll give me this shot to show her what I do – to show her that this stuff is as easy to me as breathing.
“I’m not sure,” she says warily, gently sliding her fingers over the brakes.
I swallow thickly, trying not to turn that into something else in my mind.
“I’ll ride,” I promise. “You won’t have to do any of the driving if you don’t want to.”
“Is that legal?” she asks. “Wouldn’t I need a license for something like this?”
I jerk my thumb toward the forest behind us. “Private property, baby.”
Her jaw drops and I smirk down at her. “You own all the land?”
I can’t help but laugh at that one. “Not the mountain,” I chuckle, “but I bought a decent chunk of land when I decided where I was going to build. And I know these peaks like the back of my hand. I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you.”
She purses her lips to one side, mulling it over. Then she slides her eyes back up to mine, trying to bite back her smile as she says, “Okay. One ride.”
“You sure you want to limit yourself?”
She stands up on the footboards so that she can look down at me, and I move in closer, grinning up at her. She places her cool delicate hands on the warm swells of my chest.
“One ride will be more than enough,” she laughs, and I bite back a smirk of my own.
Sure, baby, I think to myself. That’s what they all say.