Chapter Nine
ELLY
WHAT?
PANIC squeezes my chest as my mind spins with images of staying here any longer.
Sloane links her hands in front of her and takes a graceful step to the side to look behind her and Gray’s large body fills the door frame.
“What?” I breathe the question as panic weaves into the muscles across my shoulders.
“Aren’t there provisions for bad weather here?
” I keep my voice calm, even though the pitch rises a little from the fear that’s gripping my stomach.
I have to check in with my dad, tell him everything is going well even if it isn’t. The last thing I want is for Harris to show up here to bully and harass this family. Trying to anticipate how my father will react when I tell him I’m stuck in an ice storm is making my head hurt even worse.
The cut starts to throb over my eyebrow, making me I realize I’m holding my breath.
My eyes are locked on the large man standing in the doorway as every possible scenario that includes Harris and my dad plays out in my head, none of them good.
I take a deep breath to the count of three and let it out to the same count.
Gray steps into the room making it feel smaller somehow, his boots scratching over the hardwood floor before going silent on the giant plush area rug.
He is wearing a blue checkered flannel shirt that’s hanging open over a gray t-shirt hugging every dip of muscle across his chest. The flannel sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showcasing the veins and corded muscles through the light-colored hairs over his forearms.
The belt buckle in front of the faded jeans hugging his muscular thighs and bowed legs is round, and I can’t make out what is etched on it. Is that a bucking horse? His beard is neatly trimmed across his jaw and those hazel eyes are looking at me like I’m a bug to be squashed.
So much for the concern I saw earlier. Disappointment settles heavy in my stomach and another feeling, maybe shame.
His ball cap is old, and little threads hang and stick out from the frayed edges of the bill over his eyes. “Unless you know how to melt a half inch of ice from the northeast corner of the state, you’re stuck here until it melts.”
Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I stand and rub my hand on my chest as the crushing grip of panic makes it harder to breathe, but I keep the damn smile on my face.
A slight sweat is breaking out along my hairline.
“Oh.” I hate that my voice sounds small.
“How long do you think it will take to melt?”
He slides his fingers into his pockets and shifts his weight to one side, those hazel eyes studying me. “It just got started, weatherman says it’s not stopping until tomorrow. Could be awhile.”
Taking a moment to think, I let my gaze drop to his boots, which look really worn, I take a breath and try to calm my racing heart and my nerves that are grating along my temples like motor pistons because I’m having to pry answers from him.
“How long is a while?” A mixture of shock and disbelief is evident in my tone, but I don’t have it in me to care right now.
Ignoring my question, he turns to Sloane and his face softens as well as his tone. “Dinner’s ready. Dad’s already at the table.”
She nods and glances at me with a warm smile before she disappears behind him. Everything about him on the surface is calm and focused, but nothing about his energy is calm. Little pin pricks of irritation are poking me all over as his gaze scrutinizes me.
“The next few days will stay below freezing, so my guess is the roads will be frozen for up to a week, maybe.” He takes a step toward me and his hands fall to his sides, his voice a deep rumble.
“While you’re here, you’ll be treated as a guest, but if I see even a hint of distress in my daughter’s eyes about why you’re here, I will send you walking back to your car without a care about whether you freeze or not. ”
Once he mentioned his daughter, wave after wave of anger flows from him, hitting me with every swell, threatening to drown me. I take a small step back and realize the smile I use as my shield has fallen, and I bump into the bed behind me.
I’m not scared, because I know his anger is coming from a place of love.
This man will obviously do anything to protect his daughter.
What really bothers me is he would think I’m capable of distressing a child.
When I saw that little girl standing in front of me telling me her dad would make everything okay, I knew this man had planted feelings of unending love and confidence in her.
By taking a step away from him, I’m retreating from the fact he thinks so horribly of me. The level of anger I’m feeling from him is wholly because he thinks I’m such a bad person, a person who would intentionally cause hurt and I want to turn my back on it.
No, I want to run from it.
No one has ever perceived me that way, and it hurts.
But that’s why Harris got me in this position, isn’t it? He knows I’m soft-hearted and he’s betting on that being my downfall to get my dad’s attention.
I’m willing to bet the wall of muscle in the form of a somewhat grumpy man in front of me does not shy away from eye contact or directness, so as I begin to defend myself, I make sure my eyes are looking into his. “Of course, I would never…”
He cuts me off, keeping control of the conversation, his eyes never break the focus he has on mine, “Good, ‘cause we’re not selling our land.” As he turns to leave the room, he says over his shoulder, “You’ll need to find something else to talk about while you’re here.”
Realizing he’s done with the conversation, he only came in here to warn me, I sigh and follow him out the door.