Seduced by Snowfall

by Jennifer Bernard

  “How about a doctor who has to lie and make up a boyfriend?”

  “I’d call that creative,” he said loyally.

  “And that’s why you were such a good fake boyfriend.” She put a hand on his thigh and gave it a squeeze, then left her hand there.

  He shot a sidelong glance at her. Driving into an oncoming blizzard was no time for fooling around, but damn, it felt good.

  “About last night…” she said.

  Uh oh. That phrase never ended well. “Yeah? About last night?”

  “I…” She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s not my usual style. I’ve only had serious boyfriends. Well, it’s serious until we break up. I’ve never had a casual relationship before.”

  “Okay.”

  “But I’ve decided that something casual would be a good change for me. I mean, the serious ones haven’t worked out. Maybe light and meaningless is the way to go.”

  Light. Meaningless. Dammit, those words kind of hurt. Light was one thing—he loved to see people laugh and smile. But did that make it meaningless?

  Bethany continued. “But the truth is, I have no idea how to do that. So I’m trusting you.”

  “Trusting me for what?”

  The highway narrowed to one lane on each side, with no streetlights. His headlights caught the glitter and swirl of snowflakes, which were coming down in ever bigger numbers. A slick of white covered the road ahead, unbroken by tire tracks.

  “I’m trusting you to show me how to do this kind of casual thing.”

  “Ah. So I’m in charge. I get to tell you what to do, and you’ll trust me.”

  She laughed a little nervously. “When you put it that way…”

  “I’m just repeating what you said,” he said innocently. “You’re putting your trust in me because you know I’ll make it fun.”

  “I’m trusting you to not make it serious,” she corrected. “All I know how to do is start planning where we’re going to live, and how we’re going to balance careers and family, and how much time I should take off for a baby. You know, serious stuff.”

  Serious stuff. Very serious. Bethany would be such a caring yet overprotective mother. He could imagine her making chore charts and keeping stocks of healthy snacks in her oversized mommy tote bag, and getting her kids to bed on time. Whereas he’d be the one offering shoulder rides and tickle fights and—

  What. The. Fuck. Was he thinking? Family wasn’t for him. He’d decided that long ago. Nothing had changed. Nothing.

  “You got it,” he managed. “King of casual, that’s me.”

  She looked at him oddly, but didn’t have a chance to respond because just then a large male moose stepped into the road. Confused by his headlights, the moose lumbered into a turn, but skidded on the new snow. Slipping and sliding, the poor animal couldn’t get enough purchase to flee back into the woods.

  Nate went into full alert, calm and clear and focused, blocking everything out except the need to stop the truck before he hit the moose. He took his foot off the accelerator, tapped the brakes, then tapped them again, trying to slow the vehicle without make the tires skid.

  They weren’t going to make it. He’d have to steer around the moose and hope it didn’t panic even further and lurch toward his truck.

  “Hang on tight,” he told Bethany grimly. “We’re going around him.”

  He swung the wheel to veer around the moose, which finally got his footing just in time to hurtle toward the woods. One of his back hooves hit the truck door as he wheeled away. The truck jolted, and Nate flung out an arm to keep Bethany from lurching forwards.

  Then he had to muscle the steering wheel back the other way to keep the truck from sliding too far toward the shoulder. He felt his snow tires slip, then grip the slick surface. Come on, come on.

  A few tense moments later, they were back on track. The moose had disappeared into the woods, leaving nothing but a slushy mess in the road, which was quickly being covered up by new snowfall.

  “Whew.” Bethany let out a long breath. She was holding on to the grab bar with white knuckles. “That was scary.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yes.” The glance she gave him was full of awe. “That was amazing. And actually, kind of…wow. Sexy, maybe?”

  “Really?” He took in her flushed face, her dilated pupils. Adrenaline. “Strange, because not hitting a moose is very serious and not at all casual.”

  All her tension released into a laugh, like a balloon bursting. “Well, even so, I trust you in the snow even more now.”

  “So I have you right where I want you. Alone in a truck, surrounded by darkness and endless snow.”

  They drove in silence as the night closed around them, snowflakes swarming them like moths.

  “Know any good ghost stories?” Nate asked cheerfully.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  They spent the next stretch of road telling spooky stories. Bethany remembered a few from summer camp, including one about an axe murderer hiding in the truck of a car. Even telling the story made the back of her neck prickle.

  But Nate was the master when it came to ghost stories—especially real ones.

  “Did you know there used to be a native tribe who lived across the bay, in Lost Souls Wilderness? The story goes that one day they all set off toward Zertuche Glacier and disappeared. Forever.”

  “What do mean, disappeared?”

  “No one ever saw them again. But the oldsters remember them. They came across the bay on dog sleds, back when Misty Bay would freeze over in the winter. It used to get much colder than it does now. So members of this tribe would come over with narwhal carvings to sell, and furs. Then one day, poof. They were gone. Old Crow was a kid at the time, and he says a bunch of Lost Harbor fishermen went to look for them. They found no sign that they’d ever existed, except for a bone knife discovered near the glacier.”

  “You have to be making this up.”

  “I’m not. That knife is in the Lost Harbor Museum. That’s when they started to say that strange things happen in Lost Souls Wilderness. Strange and spooky things. Have you heard about the owl who only appears on one night of the year?”

  “No, but that sounds sketchy. How do people know it’s the same owl?”

  “Because it’s twice the size of a normal owl, and it’s pure white. And get this—it always appears on the day that Old Crow’s wife died. Every single year, without fail. This pure white owl ghosts through town, lands on the lighthouse, then flies away again. Old Crow says his wife used to love that lighthouse.”

  “Oh stop.”

  He grinned over at her, the lights from the dashboard giving his gray eyes a mysterious shine.

  “I swear I’m not making this up. Old Crow is convinced it’s his wife checking up on him. She always was a busybody.”

  Bethany burst out laughing. “Well, as a doctor with science-based training, I can assure you that it’s not Old Crow’s wife.”

  He shrugged his wide shoulders. “Suit yourself. But mark my words. Strange things do happen in Lost Souls. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  He leaned forward to peer up at the thickly falling snow. “For instance, this snow. It’s accumulating a lot faster than they thought. We could be in for a long night if it doesn’t lighten up.”

  “How much farther is it?”

  “It’s only an hour or so, but we have to drive through a mountain pass to reach Grandview. That’s the part I’m worried about.” He turned the radio on and the matter-of-fact voice of a forecaster filled the car.

  “…reporting accumulations of up to six inches in the last hour. North of Far Point, whiteout conditions have been reported. The Alaska State Troopers have closed down the highway at Revival Pass due to avalanche risk. Police are warning that most roads won’t be plowed until tomorrow morning at the earliest, so drivers are instructed to get off the roads and find shelter.”

  “Wait…what does that mean?” Bethany turned the volume up as static interfe
red with the signal.

  “It means we ain’t making it to Grandview tonight. It’s on the other side of the pass and no one’s getting through that pass until tomorrow. If we’re lucky.” His jaw flexed. “Damn, and I told S.G. I’d be there. Can you call the state troopers office for me? I need to let her know we can’t make it tonight.”

  “Isn’t there another road? A bypass or a back route?” As soon as she said that, she realized how silly it was. Obviously the storm would affect all the routes.

  “No, there’s only one road through the mountains. And the avalanche risk is real. Every winter we get a couple of slides that block the highway. It doesn’t take long to clear them, but they always shut the road down until it’s safe.”

  “Right,” Bethany said faintly. She thought of her new snow boots—she’d chosen the pretty ones with a bit of heel instead of the more practical boots with the thick tread. Maybe she wasn’t quite ready for winter, but it was coming, ready or not.

  Nate’s truck labored through the ever-thickening blanket of snow ahead.

  “When will they plow these roads?” she asked anxiously.

  “Not until tomorrow. Snow’s accumulating too fast,” he said briefly, his focus entirely on the road ahead. “If we can make it to Rocky Gulch, we can probably find a place to stay.”

  “Rocky Gulch? If? Probably?”

  He shot her an amused look, then patted her thigh. “Hey, you’re in good hands. I’ve got a full tank of gas. If nothing else, we can sleep in the truck tonight until they get the road open.”

  “Sleep in the truck? In a blizzard? What if we get buried? What about food?”

  “I have emergency supplies. I have water. I have shovels. We won’t starve or get buried.”

  “But—” Panic snatched her words away. She stared out at the drifts of snow gathering outside—everywhere outside, not just off to the side where they could create a pretty snow-swept landscape. This snow was filling up the road, clogging the wheels and slowing them down. The headlights kept dimming because snow would collect on them faster than the car’s heat could melt it.

  And the wind—it kept shaking the truck, which was one of those big work trucks that looked invulnerable. It whipped the snow into mini-tornados that danced in the road like wraiths.

  And yet through it all, Nate stayed unfazed. He kept the truck pointed forward, plowing steadily ahead. At one point, they passed another truck.

  The driver slowed and rolled down his window. “You going far?” he called through the swarming snowflakes.

  “Just to Rocky Gulch,” Nate called back. “How’s it looking up there?”

  “Gettin’ thick. You should be able to make it. Someone broke down up ahead, car’s empty but watch out for it.”

  “Thanks, man. Keep safe.”

  “Likewise.”

  They continued on into the disorienting world of whirling snow and buffeting wind. “How can you even tell where the road is?” Bethany asked in wonder.

  “It’s where the trees aren’t. That’s the problem with whiteout conditions. You can’t see anything and don’t know where to go. If it gets that bad, we’ll have to pull over.”

  They reached the car that had been abandoned. He carefully steered around while Bethany peered out the window at it. Toyota with a car seat in the back.

  “Oh no, I hope they’re okay. It looks like they had a baby with them.”

  “They probably got picked up by someone, but just in case, keep an eye out.”

  But they didn’t spot anyone on foot, nothing but snow and snowdrifts and trees buried in snow and snow whirling through the headlights and piling onto the hood. The grill of the truck pushed through the snow like the prow of a ship cutting through the waves.

  She had an image of her and Nate alone in a vast ocean, with nothing but a steel bubble protecting them from the elements.

  Even in that situation, she would trust him. There was no one she’d rather brave a storm with than Nate.

  Eventually they spotted lights twinkling up ahead. “Is that Rocky Gulch?”

  “It is. We’re almost there.”

  She heaved a sigh of relief. “Does that mean I won’t have to hike in my completely inadequate snow boots?”

  “No, you probably will. Even tromping through the parking lot will be a hike. But I have some extra snow boots in the back. Something might fit you.”

  More lights appeared. They passed a house set back from the road, its warm light a cozy reminder that other people existed in the world, that it wasn’t just them against a blizzard.

  They passed gas station, its pumps catching drifts of snow, the fluorescent outdoor lights giving them eerie contours. Everything looked different and surreal, and now that she wasn’t afraid of getting stranded in the snow, she found it almost exhilarating.

  “We made it!”

  “No celebrating yet. We need a room for the night or it’s Motel Truck-o for us.”

  A state trooper rig approached, and Nate slowed down to talk to him.

  “Hope you’re not trying to go much farther,” the bearded older man told them. “Ain’t no going anywhere tonight.”

  “Actually we’re hoping for a hotel room. Any tips?”

  “It’s all pretty booked. Best bet is the Cliffside, they have the most rooms.”

  “That’s what I figured. Thanks, Officer.”

  “Hey, you’re Nate Prudhoe from Lost Harbor, right?”

  “Yup.”

  He reached through the window to shake hands. “Old friend of Officer Badger here. Tell Maya I said hello.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “And here.” Through the window, he handed Nate a business card. Snow immediately covered it in white. “Give that to the Cliffside. Local law enforcement rate. They’ll take care of you.”

  “Right on. Thanks, man.”

  Yes, she’d definitely chosen the right man for this snowstorm.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  She was even more sure of that fact when they finally reached the safety of a room at the Cliffside Hotel. Under normal circumstances, she’d consider it a generic but serviceable hotel. Tonight, it seemed like the most luxurious haven in the entire state of Alaska.

  They carried their things, including Nate’s emergency duffel bag of supplies, to the third-floor room they’d been assigned. It was reserved for first responders, so Bethany felt a bit guilty accepting it. But Nate reassured her by telling the clerk they’d be happy to share the room, which had two queen beds, with any stranded paramedics who happened along.

  Exhausted, Bethany dropped onto one of the beds. “How are you still standing?” she asked Nate in wonder. “I wasn’t even the one driving and I’m worn out.”

  “I’m hopped up on post-drive adrenaline. Besides, you were holding on to that grab bar pretty tight.” He laughed at her. “That was a workout all on its own.”

  He stripped off his sweater, revealing the Last Chance Pizza t-shirt he wore underneath it. She swallowed at the sight of his muscled arms—they gave her vivid flashes of the other night and his Thor costume. His knife wound had nearly healed, showing only as a thin line of pink across his forearm.

  “Think I’ll hop in the shower,” he told her.

  “Okay.” Most of the saliva in her mouth seemed to have dried up.

  He gave her a tired smile and disappeared into the bathroom. She lay back on the bed and drew in a long breath. Whew. What an experience. If she’d been driving alone through that storm, she had no doubt that she’d be a frozen lump of flesh on the side of the road by now. But with Nate, she’d never really doubted that she’d survive.

  On impulse, she jumped off the bed and stripped off all her clothes. Nate deserved more than a shower. He deserved his own personal back scrubber.

  Never mind that they’d never actually seen each other naked. This was a casual thing, which meant she didn’t have to worry about impressing him. So what if her tummy could be more taut and she had no thigh gap, and at some angl
es her ankles could look cankle-ish. Nate wasn’t the kind of person who cared about things like that. He wasn’t a ruthless perfectionist. He was a “come as you are” guy.

  She pushed open the door and stepped into a billow of steam.

  “You like your showers hot!” she called over the sound of the running water. His silhouette moved behind the frosted glass of the sliding shower door.

  “Could be hotter!” he said. His voice carried more easily over the sound. “There could be a sexy woman in here with me.”

  “Well watch out, then. I’m coming in.” He opened the door for her. A cozy world of steaming water and male flesh welcomed her in. His wide shoulders and lean body barely fit under the showerhead.

  At the sight of all those muscles and ridges, the ripples of his abs and the smooth planes of his thighs, she turned shy. She covered her breasts with her arms and stepped over the edge of the shower-tub.

  He held onto her elbow to keep her from slipping, and then there she was.

  In the shower with Nate.

  He grinned at her through the water streaming over his face. “Now we’re talking. Hi.”

  “Hi.” The steamy warmth relaxed her, but she still didn’t drop her arms. “How’ve you been?”

  “Cold. Lonely. But it’s all better now.”

  “Have you ever had a back rub from a doctor? I know a lot about anatomy.”

  “Do you now? I never say no to a back rub. Well, once I did, when Boris Clancy offered me one in exchange for saving his chicken coop from a fire.”

  She smiled, already more relaxed. But not enough to show him her boobs. Not yet. “Turn around.”

  “Yes, Doc.”

  He turned his back toward her and braced his hands against the tile. The magnificent expanse of his broad back made her slightly faint.

  She ran her hands across his wet skin. “Any particular sore spots?”

  “Neck, mostly. Shoulders and neck, from gripping that damn wheel too tight. I tried not to, but I kept forgetting.”

  She had to go up on tiptoe to reach his neck. She also had to lean her front against him, breasts pressing between his shoulder blades.