Chapter 2
TWO
TROY
I take in the full scene in the blink of an eye.
The first thing I notice, obviously, is the car.
The second is the ditch it’s teetering over.
And the third is the woman behind the wheel looking like she’s two seconds away from a full-blown panic attack.
I mutter a curse under my breath and tighten my grip on the steering wheel as snow lashes across the windshield.
Fuck.
Most people around Swift Mountain have enough sense to stay off Black Bear Ridge during a storm like this.
Apparently not the town librarian/postmaster.
Even through the blowing snow, I recognize the little blue SUV. I’ve seen it parked outside the library often enough while I’m grabbing supplies in town.
The woman inside wears one of those knit hats with the giant pom-pom on top. It’s soaked through now, dark curls spilling around her shoulders as she grips the steering wheel hard enough to make her knuckles white.
Fear flashes across her face when my headlights hit the vehicle.
People are always afraid of me at first.
I kill the engine and climb out into the storm.
Snow immediately soaks through my jacket while the wind whips hard enough to sting my face. By the time I reach the SUV, I can already tell she’s shaking.
Not good. I knock once against the window.
The woman shrieks.
I blink.
Slowly, I reach for the door handle and pull it open. Big brown eyes lock onto mine. Recognition hits almost instantly.
“You,” she breathes.
“Tire blew?” I ask, keeping my voice calm.
Her gaze darts toward the ditch before returning to me. “Yes.”
“Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so.”
But her voice shakes badly enough that I don’t believe her.
Lightning cracks somewhere overhead. She startles hard enough that she nearly lunges toward me before catching herself at the last second.
Cute. I shove the thought away immediately.
“You can’t stay here,” I tell her.
Her lips part slightly. Probably because every warning she’s ever heard about me is currently flashing through her head.
Smart woman.
Still, after a second, she nods.
“Okay.”
I step back and hold out my hand. “Come on, London.”
Another flash of surprise crosses her face. “You know who I am?”
My fingers curl impatiently against the cold. “Everyone in town knows who you are.”
It’s true. The pretty librarian/welcome center guide/postmaster with the nervous smile and impractical taste in winter boots became Swift Mountain’s favorite topic almost as quickly as she arrived.
Not that I paid attention. Much.
She stares at my hand for half a second before finally placing hers in it. I nearly flinch.
Jesus. Her fingers are freezing.
“You’ve been sitting here long?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” Her teeth chatter slightly. “Twenty minutes? Maybe thirty?”
Too long in weather like this.
The second she steps out of the SUV, the wind nearly knocks her sideways. I catch her automatically, one arm wrapping around her waist before she can lose her footing completely.
She lets out a startled sound and grabs the front of my jacket. My grip tightens instinctively while snow whips around us.
“You okay?” I ask.
She nods too quickly. “Yep. Totally fine. Love standing in the middle of mountain blizzards. It’s one of my favorite hobbies, actually.”
Despite myself, my mouth almost twitches. Almost.
“Truck’s this way.”
I keep my hand at her back as we move through the storm. The road is slick enough that she stumbles twice in less than ten feet.
The third time, her knees buckle completely.
“Hey.” I catch her before she hits the ground, hauling her against my chest.
For a second, she just sags there, trembling hard enough for me to feel it through both our coats.
Not just fear. Cold. Too much cold.
“London?”
Her lashes flutter. “I’m okay.”
I clench my jaw. She’s very obviously not okay. I glance toward the truck. Still another twenty yards through heavy snow and brutal wind.
“Can you walk?”
“I think—”
One second she’s looking up at me with wide brown eyes. The next, her entire body goes limp.
“Shit.”
I catch her before she can fall.
For one sharp instant, panic slices straight through my chest. Not because I don’t know what to do. Because I do.
I shift her into my arms, cradling her securely against my chest before pushing through the storm toward the truck.
A little sound escapes her unconscious form as her face presses into the side of my neck.
Something low and possessive stirs in my chest before I shove it down hard.
Mine isn’t a word I let myself think anymore.
Especially not about women like her.
Still, I tighten my hold. Just to keep the storm from harming her more than it already has.