Stranded with a Hero (Entangled Bliss)

by Karen Erickson

  He sighed and scooted back, and her tummy did a little victory dance. Then he leaned over to show her how to work everything, and butterflies took over. His whiskered face brushed her cheek as he talked, and she had trouble paying attention to what he was saying. But basically it was like a four-wheeler, so she was sure she could figure it out.

  She punched it and they lurched forward. Nate’s arms tightened around her and she considered driving jerky on purpose. It was harder to steer than a four-wheeler, but within a few minutes she had the basic idea. Soon she was flying across the snow, weaving through trees. When she realized she didn’t know where she was, though, she slowed down. She thought the river was in this general area, but she’d only been out there a couple times, and with the snow covering everything, it was hard to tell.

  She stopped near a tree and took off her helmet. Nate removed his as well.

  “I don’t really know where we are anymore. Which way is home?” she asked, then realized that she should’ve said his house—calling it home was weird. Or maybe it was that it should’ve been weirder.

  He pointed left—the opposite way she would’ve gone.

  Now that she knew, she supposed she should put on her helmet and head in that direction. Instead, she continued to stare at Nate. His breath came out in puffs and snow fell on his hair and stuck in his eyelashes. The winter scene, the swirling snow—it was like they were stuck in a snow globe, one perfect moment encased in glass.

  Kelsey twisted around until she was backward on the seat facing Nate. It felt like talking would break the spell, but judging from the rise and fall of his chest and the way his hands gripped her thighs, she didn’t need to say anything.

  Nate leaned his forehead against hers. She waited for him to make a move further, even considered pushing it, but she didn’t want to risk him pulling away. The draw she felt to him filled every inch of her with surprising intensity. She’d had lust-filled crushes the instant a guy stepped onto the stage or she’d spot a hottie across the bar, but this was different. There was lust, sure, but there was another tug, as if her heart knew something her brain didn’t quite yet.

  Or maybe hypothermia was setting in and she was just delirious. But if this was delirious, she never wanted to leave it.

  She figured she could get away with something small, so she said, “Thanks for letting me drive,” and kissed his cheek.

  “Sure thing,” he said, and she noticed his voice was rougher than normal, leading her to believe he was affected as well.

  A gust of wind swirled the snow around them, and the barely existent sunlight coming through the clouds faded more. She tried to suppress a shiver, but couldn’t quite hold back.

  Nate wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “Let’s get you back and I’ll build you a fire.”

  She liked the way he said it. He’d build her a fire. They switched places, stuck on their helmets, and then he turned them around. As they headed back, she wrapped her arms tightly around him and rested her head on his strong back. For the first time since she’d wrecked her car, she hoped not for the snow to let up, but for it to stay just a little longer, so she could, too.

  …

  Nate had always considered his self-control rock solid. If he set his mind on something, there was no changing it.

  But with Kelsey’s arms around him, his earlier resolve was cracking. The girl brought out all the possessive instincts he thought he didn’t have. He wanted to take care of her and hold her in his arms and call her his. He knew when she left, he’d feel the emptiness.

  He pulled the snowmobile into the shed and helped her off, leaving his hands on her waist longer than necessary. He thought the layers would help block the attraction, but he could still feel the curve of her hips under the material, and his heart banged in his chest, fast and hard. The wind had picked up again and was howling, making the boards of the old shed creak.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the fake tree Mom had brought over his first Christmas living here. She’d said she’d bought a new one, so he could have it. He’d put it up out of obligation then, but hadn’t bothered since. Kelsey had accused him of being a Scrooge, though, and if she were stuck here much longer, he wanted her to have the Christmas things she’d miss out on.

  “Confession time,” he said, and Kelsey arched an eyebrow. “I actually do have a tree.” He jerked his chin toward the box.

  Kelsey beamed up at him. “Oh, we’re so putting that up.” She tipped onto her toes to reach for it, but she was too short to get a good grip.

  He reached over her and got the box down. She was trapped between him and the box, and he wanted to hold her there for a while longer, a sweet sort of torture that he couldn’t get enough of. “I don’t have any ornaments, but the lights are built in.”

  She spun to face him, practically bouncing on her toes. “That’s okay. We’ll string popcorn and we can use some of the metal pieces you’ve got to give it a little sparkle.” She moved toward the scrap pile, and he reluctantly moved the box out of her way. “I’d weld and grind them into better ornaments, but my unable-to-feel-my-fingers problem has only gotten worse after being outside.” She wiggled her fingers as if she wanted to make sure they still worked.

  “How’d you get started welding, anyway? It’s not a very common thing for a girl.”

  “Well, I’m not a common girl,” she said, shooting him a sexy smile. She picked up a couple nuts and bolts, along with piping. “My dad owned a custom welding shop. When my mom went to her waitressing job, she’d drop me off with him for the few hours both of them were working. He taught me to weld, and one day I started putting pieces together. It kind of built from there.”

  She tossed one of the bolts in the air and caught it.

  Nate didn’t know much about her dad, only that when they’d moved here it was just Kelsey and her mom.

  “He’s always on me to try to sell my pieces,” Kelsey said. “So’s my mom. It’s, like, the only thing they’ve ever agreed on. But my mom was always moving us, saying the next town would be where her business took off. It never did, though, and I didn’t want to repeat that cycle. I wanted stability. One place.” She leaned back against the workbench. “I thought that’s what I wanted. Like I said earlier, I’m good at my job. Plus, when I get bored with my hair—which is fairly often—I can change it up. But lately I’ve been thinking about trying to display my art. It’s why there are a few pieces in the back of my car now.”

  “I wish I would’ve taken a closer look.” He thought of her car out there on the road. “What if someone steals your sculptures?”

  “I’d be thrilled that someone thought they were worth stealing.” She laughed, but it didn’t ring quite true. It seemed her art was one thing she felt vulnerable about. “Anyway,” she said, straightening, “it’s freezing balls out here. I think I’m gonna need a hot shower to feel my toes again, then tree decorating time is on.” She stepped forward and patted his chest. “And you owe me a fire.”

  Nate discovered there was a handle on the tree box and gripped it, using his free hand to push open the shed door for Kelsey. As they walked toward the house, he reached out and took her hand. The gloves blocked the skin on skin feel, but a jolt still went through him.

  Speaking of fire, he was pretty sure he was playing with it right now.

  Chapter Five

  Kelsey sighed as the hot water poured over her. The water stung her fingers and toes as they went from icy to warm. She closed her eyes, thinking about her artwork. It’d started out a hobby in her dad’s shop—Nate was the first person she’d ever told about that. When people asked why she chose welding, she’d usually give a smartass answer like, “Because I’m awesome,” or “I like my art to double as a weapon.”

  Honestly, she was guilty of telling guys what she thought they wanted to hear. Not because she needed them to like her, but because then she could get caught up in the fun of a new boy while keeping him at a distance. Relationships tended to
turn suffocating, and it was easier to push away when the other person didn’t know the real her. She’d been called cold before, but it wasn’t that she was emotionless, simply that she didn’t wear them on her sleeve.

  She turned, letting the hot water run down her back. Opening up to Nate didn’t make her want to tamp down her feelings, though, because she knew he’d take care of what she told him. Unlike most people, he wouldn’t use it against her or throw it in her face.

  I need to stop thinking about him like that. This is all temporary. That thought made her heart clench. She’d tell herself she was being silly, but there was nothing funny about thinking about not being around Nate anymore.

  The room suddenly went black. The water continued to pour over her, but there wasn’t an ounce of light, nothing but darkness all around. The electricity must’ve gone out.

  Kelsey turned off the water and felt around for a towel. She wrapped it around herself and ran her hand along the wall. Without a window to light the way, she couldn’t see a damn thing. She stubbed her toe against something and swore, then continued her search for the door handle.

  Finally she got hold of it and eased the door open. She stepped into the hallway and ran right into something very solid. “Oof.”

  Hands came up to steady her, gripping her shoulders. “Sorry, since the power went off, I came to check on you,” Nate said. His fingers curled tighter, warm and slightly rough against her skin, and her pulse spiked. “Are you…?” His voice was thick, and a couple octaves lower than usual.

  “Not wearing anything but a towel? Yeah.”

  He let out a sharp exhale. The power chose that moment to come back on, lights blazing as she and Nate stood in the hallway, him in his lumberjack-esque shirt and her in a towel that barely covered the essentials.

  She expected him to turn away, embarrassed, but instead he raked his gaze over her. He reached out and ran his fingers over her collarbone, down to the swell of her breast, where her star tattoos were, and goose bumps broke out across her skin.

  “Those are new.”

  She swallowed and nodded. She turned and lifted her hair, showing him the tiny blue flower on the back of her neck. “My mom and I got forget-me-nots right before she remarried. So we’d remember we’d always have each other, no matter what happened.”

  Nate brushed his fingertips across it, and she had the urge to show him all her tattoos. Especially the music notes on her thigh, the lace heart with purple roses on her shoulder blade, her newest one that said Believe in swirly print down her side. She’d gotten it so she could remember to believe in herself, whether it was her art or that she could move through her troubles and get the life she wanted.

  Of course there was no way to show him that one without dropping the towel.

  When she looked up at him, the desire in his eyes sent heat across her skin. “You know how beautiful you are, right?”

  Her stomach flipped.

  The lights flickered off again. She reached out and ran her hand up Nate’s arm. She trailed her fingertips up his neck, across his stubbled jaw. She brushed her thumb across his lips, a thrill going through her when he groaned.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered.

  “Good,” she whispered back. The world was so quiet she could hear every one of his shallow breaths, every thump of her fast beating heart. Instead of the dark feeling scary, it felt like a safe place they could be alone, the only two people in the world.

  “I…I need to make a call.” Nate opened the door to the room she was staying in, and the window opposite it let enough light into the hallway to see. She couldn’t help feeling like she’d just been rejected, even though she knew he was trying to do the right thing—what he thought was the right thing, anyway.

  She was fairly certain if she dropped the towel right now, she could change his mind. But she didn’t want to have to change his mind. She wanted him to think she was worth forgetting her past.

  As she brushed by him, he caught her hand. He lifted it to his lips, pressed a kiss to her knuckles and then turned and walked away.

  …

  Kelsey entered the room wearing a dark purple sweater that hung off one shoulder, showing off the stars he’d run his fingers along earlier. Even though she was dressed now, he kept picturing her in a towel, her large eyes lifted to his.

  She seemed hesitant, as though she wasn’t sure what to expect. She crouched by the fire, warming her hands as the flames lit up her pretty features, and Nate felt like an idiot for walking away.

  He’d tried to call Derek—the conversation would be awkward, but he’d talk to him man to man. Then at least he’d feel better about forgetting everything else and being with Kelsey the way he wanted to be.

  Of course his brother hadn’t answered—he’d always been hard to get ahold of, but lately it’d been even worse than usual. When Dad needed help on the farm, Derek was too busy. He’d taken two extra years to graduate college because he didn’t know what to do, and while Nate loved his brother, he couldn’t help feeling a stab of jealousy that once again, he always had to be the responsible one.

  The prettiest girl he’d ever seen—the one he’d liked for years—had looked at him like she wanted him, nearly drove him crazy with her touch, and he’d walked away. So now he was frustrated and feeling like a chump.

  Kelsey stood and brushed her hair from her face, making her sweater slip lower on her shoulder. “What are you doing, lazy butt? I was promised a Christmas tree.” She smiled at him, a smile that seemed to say she understood, and all it did was make him fall for her a little more.

  Yep, I’m a chump. But at least he’d managed to round up enough candles to light the room, in case the power stayed out, and it looked like it might for a while. They hadn’t even gotten a flicker since he’d been in the hall with her, practically drooling over seeing her in so little.

  He lifted the bowl of popcorn. “Good thing I popped this while you were in the shower.” His mind flashed to her in the towel again, remembering how soft her skin felt underneath his fingertips. He cleared his throat. “Even found needle and thread. Black and blue are all I had, though.”

  Kelsey sat next to him on the couch. “I’ve never done this before. I’m usually an icicle kind of gal. I like to throw all the stringy silver things everywhere and let them lie where they fall. Mom hated them because they’d tangle the vacuum cleaner, but every year I’d get them out and she’d let me go crazy.”

  Nate reached into the bowl and tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

  “Hey, no eating the decorations,” she said with a mock scowl, smacking his hand. Then she threw some into her mouth and grinned. She threaded the needle with blue thread and started poking it through the popcorn. About every other kernel crumbled and fell in pieces onto her lap. “I don’t think this is working.” She thrust the needle at him. “You try.”

  He took the needle and thread from her, but he didn’t fare any better. “They’re all buttery. How do people do this?” He held up the strand they’d managed to put together. It was big enough to circle the tree once, maybe, and a few of the kernels were in danger of slipping off. Bits of popcorn covered his lap, hers, and the couch.

  “That’s seriously pathetic.” Kelsey laughed, then leaned forward and took a bite from their sad string, her tongue wrapping around a piece in a way that made him want to be popcorn. “Okay, so that was a fail. Who needs a garland anyway?”

  He wiped his hands on his jeans and then moved to the tree. It was much simpler than the popcorn, just put a few pieces together and twist the branches into place. The lights seemed to be connected everywhere they needed to be, though without the power on, he couldn’t really tell. Kelsey used the thread to string nuts and bolts onto the tree, and even managed to find a large piece of scrap metal she’d brought inside for the top.

  “It’s kind of a demented star, but it’ll have to do.” She stepped back and clasped her hands like it was some kind of masterpiece. “So beauti
ful,” she said with a laugh.

  He stared at her smile, the slight indention in her cheek, and how the candlelight glowed in her eyes. “Do you take back calling me Scrooge now?”

  She turned her face to him, her grin widening. “Nope.”

  He grabbed their pathetic string of popcorn and draped it across the branch. One of the “ornaments” fell down and Kelsey moved to put it back. She glanced out the window next to them and sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, this was lots of fun, but…” Her fingers went to the back of her neck, where the little blue flower tattoo was. “I miss my mom. I like Chris, and I like that he makes her happy, but they’re so busy lately that it’s getting harder and harder to even squeeze in a phone call.”

  Nate stepped closer to her and massaged her shoulders, trying to take the tension away.

  “Anyway, I just feel bad our Christmas break didn’t work out exactly like she and I planned, though I’m not sure I’m ready to leave here either.”

  Nate’s hands froze. Was she saying she wanted to stay? Was it just that she liked Marion, or was it being with him? Using his grip on her, he pulled her closer, so that her back was against his chest.

  Her eyes went to the window again. “What if it kept on snowing forever? What would you do?”

  “I’d take care of you,” he said.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Forever?”

  He nodded.

  “You’d take care of me forever, but you won’t kiss me?”

  He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. She tilted her head, making it clear she had different kissing in mind.

  “But you’re not staying here forever, Kelsey. I’ve got a day, maybe two with you. Then you’ll be gone.” He even surprised himself with that. Yes, he was holding back to try to do the honorable thing, but the fact that she was leaving was weighing on his sub-conscious. Maybe he was an idiot for not saying what happens in the snowstorm stays in the snowstorm, but he wanted there to be more to what was happening between them. And knowing he couldn’t have it made him feel like he should protect himself from getting carried away.