Seduced by Snowfall

by Jennifer Bernard

  Nothing moved aside from the constant, hypnotic fall of snowflakes. The world held its breath, it seemed. Surrendered to snow.

  “Oh wow,” she whispered. “How will we find your truck?”

  “It’s there.” He pointed to an extra-wide lump of snow not far away. “I’d recognize my rig anywhere, even covered in snow.”

  “Is this normal? This much snow?”

  “It happens now and then. Some years more than others. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Oh yes.” The heartfelt awe in her voice made him smile.

  “And this is a boring old parking lot. Just wait until you see the snow at my place. A three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of a snowstorm is basically like being inside a snow globe.”

  She gave a shiver. “I can’t wait.” Opening her blanket, she threw her arms around him. “This is so amazing and exciting. I never imagined anything like this. And you know the best thing?”

  “What?”

  “Gretel was right! I did seduce you by snowfall.”

  “Excuse me?” He swung around to look down at her. “Are you saying you seduced me?”

  “By snowfall, yes. Just like Gretel predicted.” Her lovely face shone with laughter.

  “Maybe I seduced you.”

  “You did. With your charm and good looks and great driving skills. And that Thor costume. But secretly, I was seducing you that whole time.”

  “And you were aiming for the first snowfall?”

  “Made it just in time.” The sassy quality of her smile made his heart give a funny little twist.

  “Congratulations, then. Do you win something for that?”

  “Oh, just a super-fun casual hot-sex thing. That’s all.”

  “That’s all?” He stripped the blanket off her in one quick move. “That sounds like a pretty good prize.” He walked her backwards toward the bed until the backs of her knees hit the edge. She dropped onto it with a bounce.

  “What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly. “I thought we were going to have a snack.”

  “I sure am.” Kneeling between her legs, he put a hand on each of her inner thighs and spread them apart. Pink and damp, pearled with moisture, her inner lips parted like a tropical flower.

  “Nate…” She trailed off as he stroked her softly.

  “Just trying to make good on the super-fun hot-sex thing,” he told her. “I mean, look at all that snow out there. It’s still coming down. You seduced me by the biggest snowfall in years and that deserves an extra little something.”

  He delicately set his tongue on the pouting bit of flesh his fingers had gotten to know so well. The flavor of her went straight to his head, like a sex elixir. The sweet sound of her whimpers added to the lust marching through his blood.

  He lost himself in the joy of making her come again. And when she hauled him onto the bed and set her lips around his cock, he didn’t say a word of protest. The only thing that penetrated through the hot haze of pleasure was that word she kept saying.

  Casual.

  Maybe this was casual, maybe it wasn’t, but still—why did she keep saying it?

  The night passed like a dream for Bethany. The snowstorm relieved her of all burdens of responsibility. There was nowhere to go and nothing to do except be with Nate—and revel in it. At some point they remembered that they should eat, and raided Nate’s emergency bag. They divvied up the protein bars, chocolate, and peanut butter crackers. That post-sex feast got them energized for another round.

  This time they took it slow and easy, building from a hum of desire to a crashing avalanche of an orgasm.

  Just as they were finally falling asleep, the power went out. A generator came on, and then failed almost immediately. They were already snuggled together in one bed, nice and toasty warm. Nate, proclaiming his bravery, slid out of the covers to find an extra set of blankets and pile them on top of the bedspread. No first responder in need had claimed the second bed, so he stripped the blankets from that one too.

  Then, finally, they slept.

  Bethany had never been so exhausted in her life. She fell into sleep as if walking off a cliff. Vague dreams drifted through her mind—there was a moose in there somewhere, and a deep forest filling up with snow, and Nate’s naked body standing by the drapes, his sculpted ass topping his long legs.

  Then, deep blackness.

  From which she woke with a start because everything was shaking. No, she was shaking.

  No, Nate was shaking her.

  She came awake instantly at that point and sat up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Just groggy. I don’t usually sleep that deeply. I’m not used to it, from being on call. What happened?”

  Nate collapsed back onto his pillow and covered his face with his arm. “Sorry. Nothing. I just—I had a dream. Sorry to wake you up.”

  The uneasiness in his voice felt like a red flag. It wasn’t nothing. She snuggled next to him and trailed a hand across his chest.

  “What was the dream?”

  “Nothing. Don’t want to talk about it. Go back to sleep, it’s still early.”

  “Is the power back on?”

  “No. Our best bet is body heat, so stay close.” Even though he was making light of it, she still heard the undercurrent of discomfort in his voice.

  “Did you think that something had happened to me?”

  He didn’t answer as he tucked the blanket around her.

  Her sleepy brain made a connection. His baby sister. Nate had dreamed about his sister, the one he never talked about.

  “Adults don’t die from SIDS,” she told him gently. “It only happens to babies under a year old.”

  He didn’t seem to hear her; didn’t show any reaction whatsoever.

  “Is that why you woke me up, because you were worried? There’s no need. I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  Still no response from Nate. He settled back down under the blankets and turned his back to her.

  News flash: he didn’t want to talk about the thing he never talked about. She should have known that. Their incredible night together didn’t change that.

  She was an idiot. This was a casual thing, not a “bare your deepest pain in the middle of the night” relationship. When would she ever learn that? When would she learn how to do that?

  Her face burning, she lay on her back as the cold crept in around the edges of the blankets.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The rumble of machinery woke Nate the next morning. The whine of a large piece of equipment backing up, the metallic squeal of brakes told him a plow truck was hard at work. The bathroom light was on, so the power must have come back on. But not long ago, because the room was still chilly.

  He looked to his side. Bethany was almost invisible under the pile of bedding. All he saw was a thick lock of blond hair peeking from under the blankets. Quietly, he eased himself out of the bed and padded across the carpet. Their room was a mess, as if two rock stars had spent the night there. Protein bar wrappers littered the desk, extra pillows were strewn across the floor.

  They’d had a wild night, no question about it. It had blown his mind. It had been amazing, incredible.

  But something felt off. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Something had happened that he couldn’t quite remember, but it wasn’t good.

  At the window, he parted the drapes, blinking against the bright stab of daylight, and saw a large plow truck making its way around the parking lot. A twelve-foot pile of snow had already built up in one corner on the lot. It sparkled in the brilliant sunshine.

  Sunshine. Christ, it must be midmorning if the sun was already this high.

  He strode to his phone and checked the time. Ten thirty. And he’d missed a call from the state troopers office.

  He pulled on his pants and a sweatshirt, stuck his feet into his boots, and slipped outside to the covered balcony that ran the length of the third floor.

  “Hi, this is
Nate Prudhoe, I got a call this morning.”

  “Yeah, I was checking in to see how you fared in the blizzard.”

  Nate located his truck. Three feet of snow still squatted on his hood and rooftop, but the row had been cleared. “Holed up in a hotel. Safe and sound. How’s S.G.?”

  “She’s a firecracker. Keeps asking when you’ll get here. What can I tell her?”

  “Is the highway open?”

  “It is as of eight-thirty this morning.”

  “Ah.” Fuck, he should already be there. He’d let S.G. down. “I’ll grab some coffee and be on my way. Should be there in an hour or so, depending on conditions.”

  “Okie dokie. I’ll let her know. Drive safe through the pass.”

  “You know it.” He ended the call and decided to check the lobby for coffee options and let Bethany catch up on her sleep. They’d gone at it like sex-crazed teenagers last night. Where had all that explosive chemistry come from? He’d always thought of Bethany as someone he liked, admired and respected, and sure, there was lust involved. But he’d also seen her as someone maybe…out of reach. Someone who wouldn’t want him.

  Well, he’d gotten that part all wrong. She wanted him, unless last night was a fluke. She wanted him just as much and just as wildly as he wanted her. But she was Dr. Bethany Morrison, daughter of country clubs and the fearsome Lloyd Morrison. Which meant she didn’t really want him. She just wanted a…getaway. A sexual vacation from the stresses of her life.

  But that was the problem. Life wasn’t just a vacation. He had his own stresses. He might come off as a joker, and he did like to laugh, but his life wasn’t all peaches and cream. And sometimes that fact came out, like in the middle of the night when he’d thought for a terrifying minute that she’d stopped breathing…

  His heart raced and he had to stop in the stairwell to get control of himself.

  It all came back to him. His dream, his moment of panic, Bethany’s words. Now he remembered it all.

  It only happens to babies under a year, Bethany had whispered to him. He hadn’t been able to answer because his heart was still in his throat. He hadn’t wanted her to see the stark terror that seized him in moments like that.

  This was why he couldn’t have a family. Imagine worrying every single night if the being you loved most was going to survive until morning. Who could live like that? Not him. And every time he got involved with someone, he faced that brick wall of a fact.

  He made it to the lobby, where he chatted with the day clerk about the storm and the roads and the forecast. To make up for the power outage, the Cliffside was offering free coffee and a full breakfast to all their guests. He spent some time piling two paper plates with bagels, pancakes, fruit and muffins.

  How did Bethany like her coffee? His guess—by nature, she probably liked it sweet and creamy. By med school training, she probably took it black. And that said a lot about Bethany, about how she’d learned to accept less sweetness, less love.

  You don’t have to worry about me, she’d whispered.

  But that was crazy. Of course he would worry. He already did worry. That moment when he’d touched Sabrina and understood that something was gone—her spirit, her life—that moment was crystallized in his heart forever.

  Besides, how the fuck did Bethany know about Sabrina? As far as he knew, people didn’t talk about her death anymore. It was so long ago, and his parents had done everything they could to move on. Including moving away.

  He was the one who, every year on the anniversary of her death, trekked to the back of the property to the old broken Birch tree where they’d scattered her ashes. He sat on a mossy patch of earth and thought about his sister. He always imagined he could hear the gurgle of her laughter, but it was probably just the murmur of a nearby spring.

  If only she would come back as an owl or something. Or in her case, maybe a chickadee, bright-eyed and cheerful. He’d like that.

  Balancing two plates of food and a cardboard coffee cup holder, he made his way back to their room.

  He knocked on the door with his elbow. He saw movement behind the peephole, then Bethany let him in. She was already awake and dressed, with a half-folded blanket in her hands. The rest of the extra bedding was already neatly piled on the extra bed.

  “You probably don’t have to do that,” he told her as he set the coffee carrier and paper plates on the desk.

  “Oh come on. You’ve met me, right?” She gave him a half-smile. “Do you think I’m capable of not folding the blankets? I always fold. The other residents used to tell me they always knew when I’d been taking a nap on a spare hospital bed because I’d leave everything so tidy.”

  Damn, she was cute. But he sensed a new layer of awkwardness between them—her face turned away, her shoulders tight.

  It was his fault. He should explain. He should talk about Sabrina. About what had happened when he was seven. About that moment last night.

  But he couldn’t. And the window of opportunity closed as she abandoned the blankets and zeroed in on the food.

  “About those pancakes…”

  “You’re hungry, right? I could eat a snow plow.”

  “Starving. Turns out that protein bars and peanut butter crackers only go so far.” She peered at the two coffees. “Which one is mine?”

  “Well, it’s actually kind of a test. You can choose. One is black and the other has cream and sugar.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. Were they slightly reddened? Good Lord, had she been crying? Had he hurt her feelings last night?

  “What sort of test?”

  “A test of how well I know you. I made a bet with myself about which one you’d choose.”

  “So you think you know me that well.” She fluffed a pillow—aggressively, which he wouldn’t have thought possible. “Just because we slept together in a casual manner, the way casual, fun-loving, non-serious people do.”

  His eyebrows shot up. There was that word again. Casual.

  “Not just because of that. I’ve also been welcomed into your family, and then kicked out of your family. I’ve seen you at work. I’ve trick-or-treated with you.”

  Her cheeks flushed at his mention of Halloween.

  “All right. I’ll play your game.” She picked up the black coffee and handed it to him. “That’s the one you really want. So take it.”

  He accepted the Styrofoam cup from her. She was right. He didn’t like sweetener in his coffee. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I actually know how you drink your coffee, because I’ve seen you order coffee. I don’t have to guess or make a bet. So there.” Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she reached for the other cup.

  Before she could pick it up, he set his coffee down and spun her against him. Eyes wide with surprise, she gazed up at him, color rising in her cheeks.

  “Don’t you want to know my bet?” he asked her.

  “I don’t know. Do I?”

  “I think that you probably prefer the cream and sugar, but have trained yourself to drink your coffee black. And that if someone else is with you, you would aim to please them first, before yourself. So it looks like I won.”

  She held his gaze, that pretty sunlit brown drawing him in deep, deeper. “You knew I would give you the black coffee?”

  “I did.” He cupped her face. “You always choose the thing that will benefit someone else. I know that about you.” He felt a smile start at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe I really do know you, ever think about that?”

  “Well, okay…but maybe I faked you out, and just picked the coffee I like better. Maybe you’re overthinking this whole thing, maybe you’re being kind of arrogant and assuming a lot, maybe you have no idea what—”

  He interrupted her with a kiss, deep and long. Her lips warmed immediately and her body melted against him. The kiss claimed him with a powerful force that scrambled his senses. It took him further, deeper, faster than any kiss had a right to. Than any kiss he could remember.

  Was thi
s casual, the way she kept saying?

  He pulled away, lungs heaving for oxygen, heart racing. The dazed look on her face reflected his own confusion. Her moonlight hair was mussed from the way he’d tangled his hands in it. Her lips were wet and full and God, he wanted nothing more than to toss her on that bed and mess up all those blankets again…

  He thrust her away from him. She needed to be at least an arm’s length away or poor S.G. would be stranded for another night.

  “Sorry. I can’t trust myself right now. I want you too badly. We need to take our food and hit the road. S.G.’s waiting for us.”

  Right away her expression shifted. Of course—if someone needed something from her, she’d be there.

  “I’m ready,” she said, all business now. She folded her lips together, as if sealing in the flavor of their kiss. “I packed up your bag, threw away all the wrappers, left an extra big tip for the plow truck. I was just waiting for you.”

  “Did you scrub out the shower?” he asked.

  “No! Do you think I should? I mean, we did—”

  He burst out laughing. “You’re too damn easy to tease. The shower’s fine. Let’s go.”

  Yeah, he deserved the little swat on the ass she gave him on the way out the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Thank God almighty.” The state trooper, Arlo Baker, led them to the dorm room where they’d housed S.G. for the last two nights. It wasn’t exactly a lockup—they hadn’t charged her with anything—but they’d guarded her closely. “Much longer and she would have clawed her way out of the station. What do you know about her?”

  “Honestly, not much,” Nate told the trooper. “She’s had an unusual upbringing, that’s all.”

  “I’ll say. Well, that’s Alaska for you. All kinds of weirdos hanging out in the wilderness. The Pilgrim family, all those kids, that sort of thing. Think she ran away from something like that?”

  Bethany bit her lip to keep from telling the trooper to mind his business. After all, it kind of was his business. They’d picked her up because she’d pulled her knife on a driver who’d stopped to offer her a ride.