Chapter 3
Hunter
Damn, she’s prettier up close than she was out the window. It’s my first thought as the curvy elf climbs into my truck. Her green pointed shoes with the jingle bells on them make the most adorable noise.
They’re soaked through, and my heart twists as I remember too many winters as a kid with cold feet. I turn the heater on full blast and aim it at her and her puffy companion.
Then I reach into the back behind her seat and grab the blanket I keep in here for the dogs. Doesn’t smell the best, but it beats losing toes to frostbite.
When I pull it free, I realize I’ve leaned into her personal space. She’s so tiny that I expect her to shrink back against the door. I saw the debate raging on her face when I pulled up and offered the ride. She desperately wanted it, but a lifetime of urban legends has trained her to be cautious.
Her gaze goes to my lips, and fuck me. It makes my heart skip a beat. You’re too damn hard to love. Don’t know why I bother. The words from my past come back to me, and I straighten, leaving her space.
I toss the blanket between us. “Take your shoes off. You’ll lose toes that way.”
“Uh, thanks,” she murmurs. But instead of worrying about herself, she takes the booties off her dog. She carefully dries each of his little paws, and Killer, the fierce protector, makes a noise of contentment.
I start the truck, continuing on the road to my cabin. She asked me to get her off this stupid mountain which I have every intention of doing. After the snowstorm.
She peels the wet slippers from her feet. Her skin is mottled from the cold, and she hisses as she dries them. “Thanks for the ride. Do you have a phone I could call my sister on? I don’t want her to worry.”
“Cell tower is down,” I grunt out.
“Oh, any idea when it’s going to be back up?” When she’s finished with her feet, she pulls a ponytail holder from her tiny candy-cane-shaped purse.
My cab fills with the scent of her shampoo. It’s something light and floral that makes it difficult for me to think clearly. “I reckon after the storm.”
“The executives would eat you up.”
I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean, so I keep quiet. She does too and we spend the next twenty minutes without speaking a word.
Finally, she’s the one to break the silence. “Not to complain, but I’d like to get off the mountain, and you seem to be taking me further into it.”
“Taking you to my cabin,” I answer and realize a split second too late that my answer is making her nervous.
“And that’s where you have a very nice and normal life?” She fiddles with her phone, no doubt desperately hoping a text or phone call goes through.
I try to think of something that would make her comfortable. She clearly loves animals. “Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, and Michelangelo are there.”
She reaches for the door handle, and I don’t miss the subtle way she checks to see if it’s unlocked. “And these men are your friends?”
“They’re my dogs.” I glance at Killer who is resting on her lap. “You’re not the only one with a fierce attack dog who likes to hide behind jingly shoes.”
She glances at my face again, looking for something I can’t quite define. Maybe it’s reassurance she wants.
“Look, we’re not getting down the mountain in the snowstorm. Our best bet is going to be my cabin. It’s not much, but it will be a roof over your head for the night,” I explain.
I already know from the way she carries herself that this is not a woman who’s used to roughing it. She has far too much confidence and poise to be from the wrong side of the tracks. No, she’s from money and a lot of it if I had to guess.
“Wait, did you name your dogs after the turtle show?” She asks quietly.
“You know it?” The show and movies were popular when I was a kid, but she has to be ten years younger than me.
“Never pay full price for late pizza,” she answers with a grin.
Fuck, I’m going to marry her then we’re going to make babies together. As many babies as she’s willing to give me. I hope it’s a lot. I want little ones running around the place while their hot mama drives me crazy. It’s pretty much a done deal in my mind. At least, until she opens her mouth again.
“My boyfriend doesn’t get it. Well, ex-boyfriend. Maybe. It’s kind of a messed up story.”
I grunt because I do not want to hear it.
Truth is, I don’t care if she’s with someone else.
The bastard was too stupid to put a ring on her finger which means I’m going to steal her away.
His tough luck for letting this adorable Christmas elf with her love of comic book characters slip through his fingers.
“Do you like pizza?” I ask, an idea already forming in my head.
“Only if it’s meat lovers with extra sausage,” she answers quickly.
“I’m Hunter,” I say, realizing we haven’t exchanged names yet. I told her I was taking her back to my cabin before I even told her my name. No wonder she freaked out.
“I was kind of hoping you’d say your name was Splinter,” she says with a hint of mirth in her voice. She’s teasing me.
I chuckle. “And what’s yours?”
“Holly Jo–Johnson,” she quickly corrects herself.
It’s not lost on me that she just lied about her last name. I think about that for a second, then quickly decide it doesn’t matter because I’m going to change her last name anyway.
“Well, Holly,” I say, liking the way her name tastes on my lips. “I have plenty of ingredients for pizza at my cabin.”
She smiles at me, and it’s the first genuine smile she’s given me since we met. It feels like a huge victory. “I’d like some pizza.”
We drive the rest of the way to my cabin in silence. As I pull into the snow-covered driveway, I can’t help the way my stomach churns. I’ve never cared what someone thought of my cabin, but I want Holly to like it.
Though I suppose if she doesn’t, it’s not that big of a deal. I’ll just tear it down and build a new one. I’ll keep building cabins until I make one that she loves and wants to call home with me.
She gasps when she sees the cabin. “Your place is beautiful.”
My heart fills with pride at her words. “Wait until you see the inside.”
I leave the warmth of the truck and hurry around to her side. She struggled with the running board earlier, and I don’t want her to slip in her wet shoes.
She’s already scrambling out of the truck though and in her haste, her balance is off. She slips, her feet sliding in those shoes just like I’d feared.
I react instinctively, my hands going around her hips to steady her. Our faces are so close that our breaths mingle, a single puff of air in the middle of the snowstorm.
My blood is electric in my veins, and a feeling of contentment washes over me now that I’m touching her. I feel like this is what I’m meant to be doing with my life, holding this beautiful curvy elf. The happiness that spreads through me is better than Christmas morning.
Her gaze goes to my lips, and my heart skips a beat. I want to close the distance between us. I need to know what her lips taste like beneath mine.
But then Killer yips, and the moment is lost. Should have named him cockblocker instead.
I set her down, reluctantly releasing my hold on her hips. She murmurs her thanks, her face down. She’s obviously feeling this attraction between us, but she’s not ready to acknowledge it yet. That’s okay. Before this snowstorm ends, I’m going to win her heart.
I reach for Killer and pass him to her, careful to keep from touching her. If I do, I might just go up in flames.
“Come on. I’ll show you around,” I tell her.
I open the front door, then step back, gesturing for her to go in front of me. It’s not that I’m a gentleman. It’s just that I love the way her dress flips up in the back, framing her perfect ass.
“Oh, it’s so warm and cheerful,” she says as she steps in.
I try to imagine my living room through her eyes. The first sight to greet her is the massive wall of bookshelves where I keep thousands of books.
I’m not just a writer. I’m obsessed with reading too. Growing up, books were my escape from darkness and pain. Now they’re my escape from the loneliness that’s clawed at me for the past few years.
My laptop and a blanket are thrown casually on the couch because I added some notes to my manuscript before I went to see Emma May. The coffee table is covered in sticky notes and doodles that I make when I can’t think of the next word or sentence that I want to type.
But my favorite feature of the living room is the wall of windows that overlooks the mountains of Courage County. It’s a peaceful view that never fails to fill me with calm and soothe me when the cabin seems too big for just one person.
Holly moves to the windows, watching the snow flurries for a few long moments. She shivers. “I’m so glad to be inside.”
I don’t say anything. I let her look over my living room, exploring everything with her gaze. I spend most of my time here, but I don’t tell her that. It’s pretty obvious. She goes to my bookshelves, runs her fingertips along the spines of my books.
She doesn’t know my pen name. But I nearly sigh when she runs her fingertips along the spine of my favorite series. I’m thinking about what it would feel like to have her fingers tracing my body the same way.
Finally, she pauses and pulls a non-fiction research book from the stack. It’s about small weaponry and simple methods of torture. Not exactly first date material. She looks at me with one eyebrow raised and says, “What is it you do again?”