Rocky Retreat

by Vivian Arend

Rachel felt like a waddling duck as she worked to avoid stepping with one snowshoe on the giant loop of the other.

  Lee squeezed her hand. “Watch your feet for a couple steps to see how large you need to stride then after that, don’t look.”

  “Don’t look. You want me to fall flat on my face.”

  “If that’s the worst thing that happens, why not?” He let go of her fingers and moved ahead of her, creating a trail for her to follow. He glanced over his shoulder and offered her a grin. “If you fall down, you’ll get right back up.”

  Rachel considered his words as she followed. In more than one way, that’s exactly what she was doing.

  As they broke over the top of the north ridge to gaze down into the valley below, two things struck her.

  One, they were in a pretty amazing place. The hill fell away so rapidly she could see for an extended distance. The hillside the cabin was on dropped to rolling foothills that were much lower and softer than the jagged peaks at their back. Beyond the foothills were the ranchlands and grain fields that stretched all the way to Manitoba, pristine and idyllic. Like a painting on the wall.

  The other thought was exactly how isolated they were. “We really are in the middle of nowhere, aren’t we?”

  “Right smack dab,” Lee agreed.

  They stood in silence as their breath created a white fog around them, the clouds overhead moving fast enough to be time-lapse photography. The sky darkened as wisps of white gathered and thickened, turning to grey with blackness in their cores.

  The temperature seemed to plummet between one breath and the next.

  Lee caught her hand in his. “Come on. We need to get inside.”

  By the time they’d walked the ten minutes it took to get back to the cabin, the wind had returned, fluttering the collar of her jacket and sending icicles down the back of her neck.

  They hurried inside and hung up their things, arranging them around the stove. The wind howled in protest, rattling the shingles on the roof, but inside it was so warm Rachel had to move her chair to the far side of the table.

  “Since the storm is back, we’ll have to entertain ourselves some other way for the rest of the afternoon.”

  Even as she spoke, she realized what her words would do to him. Rachel glanced up, knowing in an instant she wasn’t wrong.

  That flash in his eyes—it was clear how honest he’d been. This wasn’t about him pretending to want her. He really did, and that helped soothe a few of the jagged edges Gary had left by cheating. If she’d been enough, he wouldn’t have strayed, right? But Lee’s expression clearly told her Gary was the problem, not her.

  She was grateful for the reassurance, but they needed something to focus on other than the sexual tension between them. “Cards? Since that’s the only game I can find.”

  “Sure, and when we get bored of me beating you, I’ll tell your fortune.”

  He took a sip of his drink before she could see whether he was smiling or not. “So, you’re a fortuneteller along with your many other talents?”

  “Of course. It’s the only way to survive in a large family. Knowing what people will do next let’s me anticipate.”

  “Just means you’re good at observing. You can’t really tell the future.” She stole his drink off the table, making a face at the bitter liquid—coffee without cream or sugar. “So, Mr. Fortuneteller, tell me whether the newest Coleman is a boy or a girl.”

  Lee leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. His biceps bulged against the cotton of his long-sleeved T-shirt. “That? That’s simple. Gabe and Allison had a boy.”

  She laughed. “How do you know?”

  Gabe leaned forward and grabbed the cards, shuffling them as he spoke. “Because this is their first, and them having a boy is a subtle dig at Blake.”

  “Blake? He’s a cousin, right?”

  “Yeah, oldest of the Six Pack Colemans. He and Jaxi had three girls before they got a son, so it stands to reason everyone else in the clan will have a boy first, just because fate wants to play a joke on Blake.”

  “You’re mean.” Rachel shook her head. “Blake doesn’t seem the type to care if he had boys or girls.”

  “Hell, no. He loves those girls like crazy, but it’s still one of those things we’ll tease him about. Because that’s what you do with family—torment them every chance you get.”

  He was still shuffling the cards. “Then go for it. Tell my fortune.” She leaned her elbows on the table and looked at him intently. “I’ll ask you a question and you use your super fortunetelling skills to give me an answer.”

  “Deal,” Lee said. “What’s your question?”

  “When will the next earthquake hit?”

  A laugh burst free. “We live in Alberta.”

  “It could happen.”

  “And that’s not very personal,” he complained.

  She raised her brows. “That’s a very personal question. When an earthquake hits this area, everyone will be shaken, including me, so I want to know. Oh, fortuneteller Lee Moonshine Coleman, what do you see in my future?”

  He offered the deck. “Cut them for me.”

  He laid the cards in a circle in front of her. Six of them, face up. She was giggling softly by this point because his expression had gone completely serious as he examined the layout before them.

  Rachel snickered. “I can hardly wait to hear you bullshit your way out of this one.”

  Lee offered her a wink. “Remember, you asked for this.”

  He tapped a finger on each of the six cards as if he were thinking intently.

  “Maybe your fortunetelling hat needs extra batteries?” she teased as he hesitated.

  “No, that’s not it at all.” He shook his head, concern rising on his face. “It’s just…I’m trying to think of the easiest way to break this to you.”

  Rachel leaned forward and looked at the cards, curious to see what he was up to. “You’re good, but I don’t know how you’re going to pull off a fortuneteller reading from a set of cards with a total poker value of zero.”

  He adjusted the cards into a line, calling out their face value. “Two of spades, four of hearts, six of diamonds, eight of clubs—you don’t see the pattern?” He went on before she could answer. “Well, of course not. You’re not a mystical sees-all and knows-all fortuneteller. Not like me.”

  Rachel laughed.

  His lips twitched before he pulled back into his perfectly somber role.

  “Your fortune contains not only a skip sequence of two, four, etc., but the cards hold the perfect ranking of spades through clubs. What this tells me is your earthquake will build and build until—”

  He pointed to the two remaining cards, which happened to be the queen of hearts and the jack of spades. “Until this happens.”

  She stared for a moment before shaking her head. “Nope. I’m not getting it.”

  “You will.” Lee rose to his feet and hauled her out of chair. Rachel shrieked in surprise, laughing as he tossed her toward the bed and she bounced on the mattress.

  In an instant he had her pinned under him, the sleeping bag below her back cool this far from the stove.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” Rachel said, satisfaction in her tone. “What does this have to do with an earthquake?”

  Lee played with her hair, his gaze dancing over her face. “The next earthquake will occur in less than half an hour.”

  Whoops. “Lee?”

  He kissed her question away. Lingering over her lips until she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, the cold forgotten because of the heat of his body.

  He didn’t stop with her lips this time. He moved lower, easing along her jawline, nuzzling her neck as his fingers worked the buttons of her shirt. When he slipped a hand under the fabric, his palm was cool against her skin, but that was fine because she was suddenly far more heated than the small stove could account for.

  “I take it this means we’re finally fooling around?”

  Lee
nipped at her earlobe. “No, but I need to make the earth move. I have my reputation as a fortuneteller on the line.”

  She could work with this. Especially as his hand cupped her breast, and a sigh of happiness escaped.

  She should’ve saved her air because a second later he’d shoved her shirt and bra out of the way and his lips were wrapped around her nipple. She gasped, the sensation causing the heat in her body to spike rapidly.

  “My God, that feels good.” She rolled toward him, threading her fingers into his hair as he alternated between one breast and the other. No hesitation in his touch. Nothing but approval in the noises he made as he broke off to stare down in satisfaction.

  “I’m an idiot,” he confessed in a whisper. “I swore we’d wait, but I want this. Tell me I can touch you. Tell me I can—”

  “Touch me,” she demanded. “Anywhere. All of it. Now.”

  His lips were on hers again, and her brain got tangled up in his demanding kiss. Then the talented man moved his hand, teasing her breasts for another moment before skimming over her belly and heading under the edge of her sweatpants.

  She’d never been more thankful for elastic waistbands in her life.

  He groaned against her mouth as his hand slipped through her folds, fingers sliding in the wetness between her legs. She was turned on and there was no way to deny it. No reason to deny it either, since he was the one who’d caused it in the first place.

  “So soft. So soft and wet.” He slipped a finger into her, his thumb settling over her clit, and Rachel shuddered. “Oh yeah. Let me see what you like. I fucking love it.”

  “Not as much as I do.” Rachel breathed the words out the first chance she could, but it took a while because he was tormenting her tight bundle of nerves like it was a trigger. His fingers stretched her, his fingertips rubbing just right and causing electric zings to shoot from her core to everywhere else in her body.

  She glanced up to discover he was staring, his attention fixed on her face as he brought her to the edge of pleasure. “Does this mean you’re the jack?” she teased when she could speak.

  “Of course.”

  Her breathing shook. “And you have a big spade?”

  His grin vanished as he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her fiercely before returning his attention to her breast and sucking hard. The joint sensations from his hand and mouth sent her spiraling while in her head a skipping tune played. Two, four, six, eight, who do we appreciate?

  She knew exactly who, at least at that moment.

  Lee pushed her until she broke, her limbs shaking and the bed rattling under them as she pulsed against his fingers. Her breathing grew ragged, and she gasped for air.

  Then he slowed his touch, pressing a final kiss to her nipple before adjusting position so he could brush their lips together. “Did you enjoy your earthquake?”

  Oh boy. “I’m not sure,” she said. “We might need to try that again another dozen times, or so.”

  Lee rolled to his side and pulled her against him as she relaxed and let all the happy endorphins flood her system. “Any time, honey. Any time at all.”

  Chapter Five

  She thought things between them would be more awkward after he’d made her come, but that bit of fooling around seemed to knock the edge off the tension. She still wanted him, but it was as if having opened the door partway, neither of them was in a rush anymore.

  They played cards. Cooked on the surface of the tiny woodstove. They sat and stared into the fire and talked about their families, and about their jobs. In the evening Lee hauled in the enormous washbasin he’d found hanging outside, filled it with hot water made from melted snow, and they took turns having a sponge bath to clean up from the day’s chores.

  She was clean, well fed and well entertained—it all felt strangely normal, even though outside the snow continued to fall, efficiently trapping them in place.

  Rachel thought again how grateful she was it had been Lee who stumbled to the cabin that first night.

  “What shifts will you be working at the café?” he asked.

  “I told Sherry I was open to whatever she needed. It’s not as if I’m juggling a family or kids’ schedules like some of the other girls.” Rachel sipped the whiskey concoction Lee had put together for her, pristine snow mixed with Orange Tang to cut the throat-searing alcohol he’d brought.

  No way could she handle drinking the hootch straight like he did, but with the addition of the bright orange crystals, it was like consuming a Creamsicle that kicked ass and took names.

  “Best part of working with family is scheduling.” Lee moved his chair closer to hers, draping his arm around the back so he could play with her hair. “Of course, it’s a pain in the butt when we all decide we want to do something at the same time, but for the most part it works.”

  “You never fight with your brothers?”

  Lee laughed. “We fight all the time, but never about anything important. Besides, they know better than to argue with me.”

  “Because you’re stubborn?”

  He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger, and her attention divided in two. Half of it focused on the sensations rippling through her body just from having him near, the other half intently focused on what he was saying because it was interesting to find out more.

  He tugged on her hair. “Because I’m always right.”

  That was a challenge if she’d ever heard one. “Really. You’ve never been wrong, ever?”

  He sat forward, peering into her eyes. “I never said that. I meant when it comes to dealing with my brothers, I’m never wrong. I’ve been wrong before. Horribly, terribly, completely wrong, and I’m sorry.”

  The sincerity in his tone struck hard. “If this has something to do with me and Gary, you aren’t responsible for my mistakes.”

  “No, I’m not. But I am responsible for my own.” He stroked a finger down the side of her face, his expression gone serious. “I thought we would be good together, yet for some reason when you told me to back off, I did. That might be the first time in my life I didn’t do what I thought was right. I wish I’d been more stubborn.”

  Rachel swallowed hard, a lump in her throat that shouldn’t have been there. “I’ll say it again, my mistakes are not your responsibility. And it’s over now. Gary and I are finished, and he can’t hurt me anymore.”

  “Good.” He leaned toward her, and she tilted her head back to accept his kiss.

  They might not be having sex, but the bits of fooling around they were doing—she was surprisingly pleased at how excited it all made her, and how much anticipation worked in his favour. Most of his kisses and caresses were as R-rated as Disney primetime, but they left her squirming and wanting so much more.

  Lee walked around the cabin with a noticeable bulge in his pants. Not that she was looking or anything, except she totally was. But he didn’t seem to mind. Didn’t give her grief, or in any way attempt to make her feel guilty for never getting him to completion.

  He crawled into bed the third night of the storm dressed in nothing but his boxers, tugging her against him in a now-familiar way. She opened her mouth and straight out asked in spite of her flaming-hot cheeks. “Aren’t you getting tired of not coming?”

  His hands rested on her belly, a safe, nonsexual spot that still sent tingles racing over her skin. “Blue balls don’t actually kill a guy.”

  Rachel laughed. “But they do make you uncomfortable, and you’ve been very generous in making me feel good.”

  “We’ll wait.” He rotated her to face him, dropping a kiss on her nose. Pulling her higher on the mattress until their faces were directly in line. His lips brushed hers as he changed the topic. “I think the storm has weakened enough. Tomorrow we can get out of here, one way or another.”

  “Really? You think my car can make it down the road already?”

  He took his time answering, kissing her first until she was breathless, a soft laugh whispering over her skin. “Your car might not
move until the spring.”

  “Don’t joke.”

  He bit her lower lip. “Well, it won’t leave the parking spot until we get some sleds ahead of her to clear a path. But we can use the snowshoes to get to Maxwell’s tomorrow. It’ll take us most of the day, but it’s downhill the entire time. They’re close enough to the highway they’ll have a landline we can use to call one of my brothers to come rescue us.”

  “But what about—?”

  He rolled her under him and covered her lips with his, cutting off any further questions.

  There. That was the answer to why he always won his arguments, at least with her. He never let conversations go on for long enough to actually become a debate.

  She wasn’t sure she liked how easily he could sidetrack her, and then she didn’t care anymore because the man kissed in a way that turned her brain to taffy. His long, hard body over hers was tantalizing in every way possible. The urge to rub against him was strong, but she respected the boundaries they’d set and simply enjoyed the sensation of being pinned in place by his weight as he kissed her to oblivion.

  She’d come to the cabin to forget Gary, and Lee Coleman had done a mighty fine job of helping her achieve that goal.

  Still, when she woke earlier than him the next morning, the temptation to do something about the heat between them was too great to ignore. With his arms around her she felt enclosed and safe, but still had room to move.

  They were entangled, a mass of heat and skin. It was late enough that a beam of pale light shone in the window and fell across the bed, making the shadow on Lee’s cheeks and chin appear thicker and rougher than even four days’ growth had marked him with.

  Rachel moved cautiously, skimming her fingers over his chest and down his ribs, distracted for a moment when she hit stomach muscles. Even in sleep they were taut enough the individual ridges of each muscle were firm under her touch.

  The edge of his boxers offered a challenge. Over or under? That was the question.

  Go big, or go home.

  She moved with extreme caution, dipping her fingers under the wide waistband until her entire hand rested where his leg met his groin.