Rocky Mountain Desire: Six Pack Ranch, Book 3

by Arend, Vivian

  He spun and headed for his truck. She didn’t have to know he was following her, but until she was home, he couldn’t relax.

  And while he would have done the same for any woman under these circumstances, for some reason knowing it was Hope ahead of him turned the Good Samaritan act into something infinitely more complicated.

  Hope twisted the air-selection button. Car manufacturers needed to realize when it was this cold, a setting to blast heat at feet, body and windshield simultaneously was more than a whim, it was a necessity. Either she had a trickle of heat on her rapidly numbing torso and toes, or she had enough air pressure to keep the front window from fogging over and blocking her view. There was no selection in her ancient beater for all three to run at once.

  She gripped the wheel tighter, staring into the darkness, and counted gate entrances. She never would have made the trip in the dark, on a night this cold, if she hadn’t already been three quarters of the way there. It made no sense to go home and have to drive all the way out in the morning to deliver the package Mrs. Bailey had ordered. The gas savings alone was worth the inconvenience of adding to her already long day.

  She just wished it wasn’t so dark, so cold, and that the secondary roads were plowed a little better. The locals with four-by-four trucks would have no troubles, but her wheel clearance wasn’t nearly as high. She hit another rut and her car shimmied from side to side.

  Ignoring her rising sense of foreboding, she turned on the side road leading toward the Baileys’ and a half dozen other homes. The plows hadn’t touched the fresh snowfall from the morning yet—there must be no school buses on this route—which meant the remote country lane would be one of the last to get cleared.

  She pulled to a stop in dismay. The only people moving that day had been driving four-by-fours, leaving two narrow wheel tracks the length of the gravel highway. There was no way she could get Herbie down that road, not even for the two miles it would take. The lights of her farmhouse destination twinkled in the distance, and for one crazy second she debated walking. Reason beat away that idea quick. It was cold enough she’d have frostbite if she was lucky and made the trip without any problems. If she did get into trouble? No way. She wasn’t stupid.

  So much for her time-saving, money-saving plan. Hope sighed in frustration and turned her car toward the main highway. No use backtracking past the Coleman’s. She was now far enough out that taking the secondary route into town would be quicker than looping back.

  The vehicle was still cold, but as she drove, the memory of bumping into Matt warmed her from the inside out. Good Lord, he must believe her to be a total klutz, along with being a fool.

  Her embarrassing blunder last summer had faded enough she now found the situation amusing. His shocked response to her mistaken impression that he was coming on to her had made one thing crystal clear. He was not on the menu. Not now, not ever.

  It didn’t stop her from getting tingles in inappropriate places, daydreaming about his hands moving from her arms to other locations. He was hard, solid and muscular everywhere, and she’d wanted so much to just wrap herself around him and satisfy her curiosity.

  Wrong word. Totally wrong word for what she felt. Fascination? Obsession?

  She snorted and gave herself a mental kick. He was the last person in Rocky who would ever consider dating her, not after the shitty way her sister had treated him. Not after Helen and him had been together for years. Dating someone in the same family wasn’t unusual, not in a town as small as theirs where there just weren’t enough people in the dating pool, but he was off-limits for more than one reason. She had to get that through her head.

  But the daydreaming remained kinda fun.

  The curve of the road slipped under her tires, and Hope tightened her grip in panic as she fought to control the car. There was no warning, no indication she’d done anything wrong, but instead of being in the proper lane on the road she was on the side, headed for the ditch.

  She turned the wheel. No response. Her front bumper hit the leading edge of the snowbank and the car bucked. Her seatbelt tightened around her chest, yanking hard as the incline increased. She slid down the embankment and everything went dark as her car was buried under a pile of collapsing snow.

  Chapter Two

  Matt cursed solidly. He was no more than half a kilometre behind, still wondering what the hell Hope was doing driving the long way home, when her car disappeared. He hit his brakes cautiously, skittering on the icy road and slowing to a stop as close to the shoulder as possible. His headlights shone over the embankment, casting a faint illumination over a broken path through the deep snow. It was a shitty place to pull over, but there was so little traffic he wasn’t going to take the time to get farther around the corner, plus they needed all the light they could get. He flicked his fog lights on high and hit the hazard signal, turning the entire truck into a blinking lighthouse. He scrambled out the door, grabbed his shovel from the truck bed, and headed down the tracks left by her wheels, the faint red of her taillights shining like ghostly eyes.

  There was no smell of exhaust—either she’d turned off the car or it had stalled, so at least he didn’t have to worry about carbon monoxide. Layers of crust broke underfoot, sending shocks through him. Snow crept over the top of his boots, his jeans coated with the heavier, wetter underlayers. He reached her back bumper and slammed a hand on the metal.

  “Hope, you hear me?”

  “Matt? How did you…never mind. I can’t get the door open.” The answer was muffled but there.

  Relief she wasn’t unconscious loosened the knot of panic in his gut. He dragged the shovel forward and attacked the snow blocking her way. “I’ll get you out as quick as I can. You okay otherwise?”

  “I’m fine. Shook up a little. I don’t know why that happened. Damn car. Damn snow.”

  Then he couldn’t hear her as he struggled to clear a path toward the front of the vehicle. Friction had frozen the closest layers, even in the short time she’d been stuck. He eyeballed the opening he’d made. Good thing she wasn’t that big. He yanked on the nearest door and it opened all of an inch.

  “Hang on, I need more clearance. You’re gonna have to climb out through the back.”

  He peered in the crack he’d achieved. She stared in dismay over fabric and boxes piled to the ceiling, the faint interior light a halo around her toque. “You don’t ask much, do you?”

  The filled-to-the-brim backseat was her only route out, and in spite of her protests, she was already pulling items into the front beside her. Matt worked for another couple minutes before stepping away and opening the door a grand total of ten inches. Bags and boxes toppled into the snow, blocking her escape.

  Hope crawled over the seat, and he reached in and tugged her free from the mess.

  “Come on, we’ll have to get your car in the morning. I don’t have a winch on this truck, and it’s dangerous to be messing around in these temperatures.”

  “Wait.” She started tucking items into the car, attempting to close the door.

  “Forget it, it’s too cold. We’ll come back in the morning.”

  “I can’t leave my supplies like this,” Hope growled at him. “There’s stuff here that’s worth a lot of money.”

  “Worth shit if you die of exposure. Leave it.”

  Hope ignored him as she attempted to fit some of the jigsaw together.

  Wanted to be stubborn? She picked the wrong guy to try it on. He nabbed her around the waist and slung her over his shoulder.

  She screamed and clutched his jacket. “Matt Coleman. You put me down right now.”

  He struggled toward the truck, knee-deep in the snow and floundering with her squirming body weighing him down. “You keep that up and I’ll spank your ass, young lady. They’re only things. We’ll get them in the morning.”

  Hope went still before relaxing on him. He managed a couple more steps before she spoke. “Fine. Just…let me walk. This is ridiculous.”

  He lowered
her but kept her close, checking her carefully. “Where’s your other glove?”

  “Lost it when I was moving supplies.”

  He pulled off his right glove and held it out.

  “You need to wear it,” she protested.

  His patience snapped. “Hope Meridan, you put that damn glove on. Then you march your ass up to my truck and you fucking sit where I tell you and do what I tell you until we get somewhere safe. You understand?”

  She sniffed and took the glove from his fingers, slipping it on before twirling her back on him.

  He grinned. It was bloody cold out, they were buried to their knees in snow, some of which had already melted into his boots and soaked his socks. The wind whistled past hard enough to snap branches in two, and he was the happiest he’d been in the past six months.

  A pissed-off Hope was a pleasure to see.

  They both struggled their way up the embankment, slipping and falling as they snagged dead grasses under the frozen layers. Hope got stuck making it over the final lip. Matt braced a hand on her ass and shoved, and she slid onto the road. He scrambled next to her and hauled her to her feet.

  “This is right where we don’t want to be if another vehicle comes along.”

  She nodded and they raced for the truck. He kept hold of her—the passenger door was too far to the side and surrounded by more deep snow. He opened his own door and pressed her in ahead of him.

  The howl of the wind cut off as he slammed the door shut, leaving a ringing in his ears. He cranked up the heat.

  Hope let out a groan of satisfaction. “That’s what a heater is supposed to work like.” She pulled off her mismatched gloves and held her hands to the air vents.

  Matt shivered involuntarily. It was damn cold, and every inch of him felt as if it had been soaked in ice water. He buckled himself in. “Come here. Sit beside me.”

  Hope snapped her head up. “I’m okay over here.”

  “Don’t be stupid. You remember my do-what-I-tell-you lecture? That seatbelt doesn’t work. Get your ass over here, I want to get you home as quick as possible.”

  Hope lowered her gaze and slid into the center of the bench seat. She settled against him and buckled up before holding her red hands toward the heater again. “Wait—take your glove back. You’ll need it on the steering wheel.”

  He accepted it gratefully before putting the truck in drive and heading to Rocky.

  Neither of them said a word for a minute. She was probably worried about her shop shit getting wet and frozen, half-buried in the ditch, not to mention her car door left ajar. “Sorry for yelling at you.”

  “No, you were right, it’s just things. I hope…” She sighed. “No. It’s just things.”

  Music filled the cab. The wind now carried loose snow, reducing visibility, and Matt had to concentrate on the highway. Only his focus got increasingly scattered as the scent of her perfume mingled with the hot air attempting to force its way past the icy fingers clinging to everything around them.

  “I think we hit that cold snap they warned about.” Hope wiggled closer, and a small batch of the wetness at his hip was no longer freezing but warm.

  “I’m not looking forward to checking the animals, I can tell you that.”

  “You need to go out tonight?”

  He shook his head before he realized she couldn’t see the motion in the dark. “Nah. Dad and Travis are on, and we had the main herd back where there’re enough shelters and trees the animals will be fine. But Blake and I are on tomorrow working the far fields. In these conditions we’ll use the snowmobiles, and the cold is gonna suck.”

  She shivered. He felt it to his bones. “Not my idea of a good time.”

  The memory of his ex-girlfriend using that exact phrase cut into his belly like a knife. Helen had wanted him to give it all up. Wanted him to move into the city with her and become something other than a rancher. The pain made his response come out sharper than he’d intended. “It’s part of the job, and you take the good with the bad. That’s life.”

  Hope fell silent again. He drove as fast as he safely could. That’s all they needed, for him to hit the ditch as well.

  By the time they’d reached the outskirts of Rocky Mountain House, it was borderline warm in the cab, which meant he was borderline freezing his balls off in his wet things. Hope had to be just as cold, but she hadn’t uttered a word of complaint.

  “You still live above the quilt shop?”

  No answer.

  He stopped for a red light and looked down. Her eyes were closed, and she swayed slightly from side to side.

  Shit. Hopefully she was just plain tired, and not going into shock. He dropped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Wake up. I need to know where to take you.”

  She shook her head, looking up with glazed eyes. “What?”

  “You still live above the shop?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Stay awake, okay?”

  “Sure.” She shivered, and he held on tight as he drove one-handed through the side streets to reach the back-alley entrance behind Main Street.

  He parked in what he hoped was her stall. There weren’t a lot of people moving, or lights on anywhere. Seemed most people knew enough to stay home when it was this damn cold.

  He got out and pulled her after him. Hope draped her arms around his neck without him saying a word. The outside staircase up to her apartment was buried under an unmanageable amount of snow, so he carried her to her shop back door.

  “Keys?”

  Hope paused. “Shit.”

  “In your car?”

  She nodded, then her eyes lit up. “There’s a spare. I hid one.”

  She looked so pleased with herself, Matt had to laugh. Freezing his ass off and laughing in a back alley with his hands going numb and his feet and butt turning into blocks of ice.

  “You gonna tell me where it is?”

  “Oops.”

  She wiggled free and stepped on a box, reaching overhead behind a light. Then she turned and fell, exactly what he’d expected to happen, so he was ready. He caught her in midair, swung her to her feet and pulled the key from her fingers. “Either you’re way colder than you’re letting on or you’ve got a bad case of the clumsies.”

  “Co…co…old.”

  He opened the door and pressed her in ahead of him. Faint security lights glowed in parts of the shop, fabric bolts and whatnot on the shelves, and quilt samples displayed on the walls. It was warmer out of the wind, but it still wasn’t warm.

  “You turned the heat off?”

  “Down. Saving money.”

  She stumbled and Matt read the signs all too clearly. Screw it. Physically she’d lost it. He guided her up the private stairs to her apartment. Every step he took, his socks squelched. Every pace he was more aware of the icicles clinging to his backside.

  Hope turned on the landing. “I have a key here too. Wait.”

  By the time they were through the door, Matt’s teeth were chattering like the gears on the old Ford. “Strip.”

  He had already gotten off his winter coat and was working on his boots before he noticed Hope stood motionless in front of him.

  “Hope, you listening?”

  She lifted her hands to paw at her zipper before letting her arms fall. “I’m here. The brain is working, honest, but not the fingers. Can’t. Too cold.”

  He dragged off his final boot and wondered what he’d done to deserve this kind of punishment. “Okay, I’ll help you. Just…relax.”

  She nodded, eyes closed. That made it easier—not having to watch those expressive orbs as he peeled off her outer layers and got her down to her T-shirt and slacks. Goose bumps rose on her arms, and he was a bastard for noticing her nipples were rigid under the thin layers of her top. When he led her into the bathroom, she went without a complaint.

  He turned on the taps for the tub and she nodded. “Oh yeah, that’s what I need. Perfect.”

  That’s when the lights went out.


  A million scenarios flashed through Matt’s brain where this would be a good thing. If he’d rescued some random damsel in distress from the side of the road who he’d taken back to a hotel and the power had gone off, they’d have to share body heat to survive. One thing would lead to another, and the heat they generated would be most enjoyable.

  Hope. This is Hope.

  “Matt? I’ve got candles.”

  She bumped into him. He’d half-expected it though and managed to keep his balance. Logic and self-control were going to be the only way out of this mess with his sanity intact. “You need a hand?”

  “Yeah, but just wait.” She snuck past him, clinging to his waist for a second. Something clattered to the floor then a drawer opened. She groped her way down his arm just before icy cold fingers pressed the hard surface of a lighter into his palm. A rosy glow filled the room as he followed her directions and lit the couple dozen tea lights arranged around the room.

  “Convenient.”

  “Pretty,” she corrected. “It’s a part of my relaxation therapy. Never thought I’d need them for this.”

  Steam rose from the tub. “Thank God for gas hot-water heaters. I didn’t make it too hot though—you’re too cold. We can add hotter water once you’ve warmed up.”

  Hope nodded. “Matt? You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?”

  He was thinking things that were going to send him to hell. He undid the button on her jeans as quickly as possible, opening the zipper. Ignored her soft gasp as his cold knuckles bumped the heated skin of her bare belly. “I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay. Take off your pants and get in the tub.”

  She obeyed clumsily. “You too, right?”

  Bloody hell. “Yes, me too. I’m fucking freezing and I’m soaking wet. Don’t worry, it’ll be crowded, but your virtue is safe.”

  Hope laughed as she lifted one long leg over the edge of the tub, the sound turning to a moan of pleasure as the water surrounded her.

  Matt was a dead man walking. He couldn’t get in the tub now, not without her knowing he had a woody the size of a bull’s. How he had gotten a hard-on when he was this bloody cold, he had no idea, but the damn thing was there. Insistently there.