Chapter 5
FIVE
JOVIE
The moment the lights go out, my heart stops.
It’s not scary. Just… sudden.
I sit frozen on the sofa while the fire throws soft orange light across the room. Snow whips against the windows. The wind moans through the beams like the mountain is singing in a language I do not understand.
“Is… is this normal?” I ask the shadows.
Rhodes is already on his feet. “Yeah. Happens all the time.”
I hear him move before I see him. Boots on wood. The faint scrape of a hand along the mantle. Then he leans down, grabs a lantern, and sparks it to life.
Warm yellow light fills the room.
Not bright.
Just enough.
Enough to see the sharp lines of his face.
Enough to see the worry in his eyes.
Enough to make my heart lurch.
He sets the lantern on the coffee table and turns back to me.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I think so,” I say. “Though my city-girl instincts just told me to google ‘what to do in a mountain blackout,’ so that’s not ideal.”
He huffs a laugh. “We’ll be fine. Power usually comes back once the wind shifts.”
“How long does that take?”
“Could be an hour,” he says. “Could be twenty.”
I stare at him.
He smirks faintly. “I grew up here. My whole childhood was storms and candles and figuring out how to keep the pipes from freezing.”
“That sounds terrifying.”
“Wasn’t,” he says. “It was… cozy.”
Cozy.
Sure.
My heart is beating in my throat and I’m wrapped in an anxiety burrito, but yes. Cozy.
He steps closer to the fire and nudges the logs with the poker. The flames leap higher.
The glow paints him in gold. And something hits me with a deep, full-body awareness.
I am alone.
In a storm.
With a man who looks like he was carved out of pine.
He glances back at me, eyes steady and dark. “Cold?”
Maybe. Probably. But not just from the storm raging outside.
“A little,” I lie.
He crosses the room with slow, even strides. When he reaches me, he stops at the edge of the coffee table. He holds out one of the extra blankets from the back of the sofa.
I take it automatically. My fingers brush his.
My breath catches. Static. Spark.
Something that snaps through my veins.
He notices, too. His eyes flicker. His jaw shifts just enough for me to see the tension in it.
“You should sit closer to the fire,” he murmurs.
“I’m fine,” I whisper back.
“You’re shaking.”
I look down.
My hands tremble inside the blanket.
Not from cold.
Not even a little.
He sighs, soft and frustrated. “Come here.”
I blink. “Come where?”
He gestures to the armchair beside the fireplace. “Closer to the heat.”
My face goes hot. “Oh. Right. The heat.”
Why am I like this.
I stand, wobble a little, and he reaches out on reflex. His hand closes around my forearm. Firm. Warm. Gentle.
I freeze.
He does too.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves.
His fingers brush the inside of my elbow.
His breath fans across my cheek.
My pulse pounds loud enough that I’m pretty sure he hears it.
“Jovie,” he murmurs.
Just my name.
But it hits like a match striking.
The fire crackles.
The wind screams.
The lantern flickers.
And Rhodes steps one inch closer.
I don’t move.
I don’t breathe.
His hand slides from my arm to my waist.
Slow.
Careful.
As if he’s waiting for me to say no.
I don’t say it.
He draws me toward him in a quiet, instinctive pull. His eyes drop to my mouth. Just once. Just quick enough that he probably thinks I missed it.
I didn’t.
He lifts his other hand to my cheek.
Warm.
Calloused.
Steady.
The storm howls again. The cabin shudders. Somewhere outside, a branch snaps and falls.
But inside… it’s still.
Quiet.
Weighted with something new.
“Rhodes,” I whisper. “We shouldn’t.”
“No,” he says quietly. “We shouldn’t.”
Neither of us moves away.
A soft rumble of thunder rolls through the mountains.
He leans in.
Slow.
Measured.
Like he’s approaching a wild animal that could bolt.
His forehead touches mine.
Barely.
One warm brush of skin.
I close my eyes.
“Tell me to stop,” he says.
“I won’t,” I breathe.
And he kisses me.
It starts soft.
A sweep of heat across my mouth.
Testing.
Almost shy.
Completely devastating.
I melt into him before I can pretend I’m stronger than this. My hands slide up his coat and fist into the collar. His fingers tighten on my waist. The kiss deepens. Sweet. Hungry. Slow in a way that makes the whole world tilt.
When he pulls back, it’s only far enough to breathe against my lips.
He looks at me like he’s not sure this is real.
“Damn,” he whispers.
Heat floods every place we touch.
My voice trembles. “Yeah.”
He stares at me for another second. Then another. Something unspoken sparks between us.
The lantern flickers again.
Rhodes straightens suddenly. Too suddenly.
“What?” I whisper.
He turns toward the window. His shoulders go tight.
“The wind just shifted,” he says. “That means—”
A loud crack echoes outside.
Then another.
Then the heavy thud of something hitting the ground near the cabin.
Rhodes swears under his breath.
And he steps away from me. Fast.
The warmth between us snaps like a string pulled too tight.
“We’ve got a problem,” he says.
“What kind of problem?”
He grabs his coat and boots.
“The kind,” he says, “that means you’re not stepping foot outside this cabin.”
And before I can even ask why…
he throws open the door.
Snow blasts in.
Wind roars.
The mountain feels like it’s waking up.
And Rhodes disappears into the storm.