Chapter One #2
“You’re rich and pretty,” he said, shutting the door tight behind her. “And I’m poor. And kind of an ass. It wouldn’t do for me to let you die out there in a snowdrift. I would probably end up getting hung.”
Madison sniffed, making a show of brushing snowflakes from the shoulders of her jacket. “I highly doubt you’re poor,” she said drily.
She wasn’t wrong. A lot had changed since he’d gone to work for the Wests eight years ago. Hell, a lot had changed in the past year.
The strangest thing was that his art had taken off, and along with it the metalwork and blacksmithing business he ran with his brother, Chase.
But now he was busier coming up with actual fine-art pieces than he was doing daily grunt work. One sale on a piece like that could set them up for the entire quarter. Strange, and not where he’d seen his life going, but true.
He still had trouble defining himself as an artist. In his mind, he was just a blacksmith cowboy. Most at home on the family ranch, most proficient at pounding metal into another shape. It just so happened that for some reason people wanted to spend a lot of money on that metal.
“Well,” he said, “perception is everything.”
She looked up at him, those blue eyes hitting him hard, like a punch in the gut. That was the other obnoxious thing about Madison West. She was pretty. She was more than pretty. She was the kind of pretty that kept a man up all night, hard and aching, with fantasies about her swirling in his head.
She was also the kind of woman who would probably leave icicles on a man’s member after a blow job.
No, thank you.
“Sure,” she said, waving her hand. “Now, I perceive that I need to use your phone.”
“There’s no cell service up here.”
“Landline,” she said. “I have no power. And no cell service. The source of all my problems.”
“In that case, be my guest,” he responded, turning away from her and walking toward the kitchen, where the lone phone was plugged in.
He picked up the receiver and held it out to her. She eyed it for a moment as though it were a live snake, then snatched it out of his hand. “Are you just going to stand there?”
He shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame. “I thought I might.”
She scoffed, then dialed the number, doing the same impatient hop she’d been doing outside while she waited for the person on the other end to answer. “Christopher?”
The physical response Sam felt to her uttering another man’s name was not something he ever could have anticipated. His stomach tightened, dropped, and a lick of flame that felt a hell of a lot like jealousy sparked inside him.
“What do you mean you can’t get up here?
” She looked away from him, determinedly so, her eyes fixed on the kitchen floor.
“The road is closed. Okay. So that means I can’t get back down either?
” There was a pause. “Right. Well, hopefully I don’t freeze to death.
” Another pause. “No, you don’t need to call anybody.
I’m not going to freeze to death. I’m using the neighbor’s phone.
Just forget it. I don’t have cell service.
I’ll call you if the power comes back on in my cabin. ”
She hung up then, her expression so sharp it could have cut him clean through.
“I take it you had plans.”
She looked at him, her eyes as frosty as the weather outside. “Did you figure that out all by yourself?”
“Only just barely. You know blacksmiths aren’t known for their deductive reasoning skills. Mostly we’re famous for hitting heavy things with other heavy things.”
“Kind of like cavemen and rocks.”
He took a step toward her. “Kind of.”
She shrank back, a hint of color bleeding into her cheeks. “Well, now that we’ve established that there’s basically no difference between you and a Neanderthal, I better get back to my dark, empty cabin. And hope that you aren’t a secret serial killer.”
Her sharp tongue left cuts behind, and he had to admit he kind of enjoyed it. There weren’t very many people who sparred with him like this. Possibly because he didn’t talk to very many people. “Is that a legitimate concern you have?”
“I don’t know. The entire situation is just crazy enough that I might be trapped in a horror movie with a tortured artist blacksmith who is also secretly murdery.”
“I guarantee you I’m not murdery. If you see me outside with an ax, it will only be because I’m cutting firewood.”
She cocked her head to the side, a glint in her blue eyes that didn’t look like ice making his stomach—and everything south of there—tighten. “Well, that’s a relief. Anyway. I’m going. Dark cabin, no one waiting for me. It promises to be a seriously good time.”
“You don’t have any idea why the power is out, or how to fix it?” he asked.
“No,” she said, sounding exasperated, and about thirty seconds away from stamping her foot.
Well, damn his conscience, but he wasn’t letting her go back to an empty, dark, cold cabin. No matter that she had always treated him like a bit of muck she’d stepped in with her handmade riding boots.
“Let me have a look at your fuse box,” he said.
“You sound like you’d rather die,” she said.
“I pretty much would, but I’m not going to let you die either.” He reached for his black jacket and the matching black cowboy hat hanging on a hook. He put both on and nodded.
“Thank you,” she muttered, and he could tell the little bit of social nicety directed at him cost her dearly.
They headed toward the front door and he pushed it open, waiting for her to go out first. Since he had arrived earlier today, the temperature had dropped drastically.
He had come up to the mountain to do some planning for his next few art projects.
It pained him to admit, even to himself, that solitude was somewhat necessary for him to get a clear handle on what he was going to work on next.
“So,” he said, making conversation not so much for the sake of it but more to needle her and see if he could earn one of her patented death glares, “Christopher, huh? Your boyfriend?” That hot spike drove its way through his gut again and he did his best to ignore it.
“No,” she said tersely. “Just a friend.”
“I see. So you decided to meet a man up here for a friendly game of Twister?”
She turned slightly, arching one pale brow. “Yahtzee, actually. I’m very good at it.”
“And I’m sure your...friend was hoping to get a full house.”
She rolled her eyes and looked forward again, taking quick steps over the icy ground, and somehow managing to keep sure footing. Then she opened the door to her cabin. “Welcome,” she said, extending her arm. “Please excuse the shuddering cold and oppressive darkness.”
“Ladies first,” he said.
She shook her head, walking into the house, and he followed behind, closing the door against the elements. It was already cold in the dark little room. “You were just going to come back here and sit in the dark if I hadn’t offered to fiddle with the circuit breaker?”
“Maybe I know how to break my own circuits, Sam. Did you ever think of that?”
“Oh, but you said you didn’t, Madison.”
“I prefer Maddy,” she said.
“Sorry, Madison,” he said, tipping his hat, just to be a jerk.
“I should have just frozen to death. Then there could have been a legend about my tragic and beautiful demise in the mountains.” He didn’t say anything. He just looked at her until she sighed and continued talking. “I don’t know where the box thingy is. You’re going to have to hunt for it.”
“I think I can handle that.” He walked deeper into the kitchen, then stopped when he saw two purple packets sitting on the kitchen counter.
That heat returned with a vengeance when he realized exactly what they were, and what they meant.
He looked up, his eyes meeting her extremely guilty gaze. “Yahtzee, huh?”
“That’s what the kids call it,” she said, pressing her palm over the telling packets.
“Only because they’re too immature to call it fucking.”
Color washed up her neck, into her cheeks. “Or not crass enough.”
In that moment, he had no idea what devil possessed him, and he didn’t particularly care. He turned to face her, planting his hands on the countertop, just an inch away from hers. “I don’t know about that. I’m betting that you could use a little crassness in your life, Madison West.”
“Are you trying to suggest that I need you?” she asked, her voice choked.
Lightning streaked through his blood, and in that moment, he was lost. It didn’t matter that he thought she was insufferable, a prissy little princess who didn’t appreciate any damn thing she had. It didn’t matter that he’d come up here to work.
All that mattered was he hadn’t touched a woman in a long time, and Madison West was so close all he would have to do was shift his weight slightly and he’d be able to take her into his arms.
He looked down pointedly at her hand, acting as though he could see straight through to the protection beneath.
“Well,” he said, “you have a couple of the essential ingredients to have yourself a pretty fun evening. All you seem to be missing is the man. But I imagine the guy you invited up here is nice. I’m not very nice, Madison,” he said, leaning in, “but I could damn sure show you a good time.”