by Carian Cole
“Well, I want a new car, so I was thinking maybe now that it’s been buried in snow, I can convince Michael to let me get one.”
“You’re chattering. And why do you need permission to get a new car, exactly? I thought you were an adult with a job.”
“I’m not chattering and I do have a job. But Michael makes all the financial decisions.”
“Are you shittin’ me? You’re not married. Do whatever the hell you want.”
“It doesn’t work that way when you live together, Storm. Couples share things and make decisions together.”
“You just said Michael makes the decisions. That doesn’t sound like ‘together’ to me. It sounds like you need his permission. And you’re chattering again.”
I cross my arms and pout at him. Damn him! He’s right. Why do I need Michael’s permission to get a new car?
We wait some more, and I start to doze off until Storm shoves me awake again. “I think I heard a truck.”
“You think?”
“I’m going to walk up to the road, check things out. I’m going to leave Niko here with you.”
“What? Why?” I sit up straight, fully awake now. “Why are you leaving him here with me?”
“I don’t want you here alone. I may be gone for a while. I want him to sit back here with you and keep you warm.”
I shake my head. I don’t mind the dog at all anymore, but I don’t like the thought of being left here alone. “Storm, what if something happens to you?”
“I’ll be fine. I have to go out there and see if that’s the truck. Don’t worry, okay?” He leans over and ruffles my hair. “I’ll be back and we’ll be outta here. Call Niko back here when I leave, okay? Promise me.”
I nod nervously. I don’t want him to go. “I promise.”
And with that, he’s gone.
I watch him walk out into the white and up the hill until I can’t see him anymore. I stare at the space where he disappeared for a few moments then turn to the dog in the front seat.
“Niko. Come here.” I pat the space next to me. The fluff monster stares at me for a few minutes like he’s not sure if he should or not. “Come on.” I raise my voice a bit to sound happier, and that does it. He wags his tail and leaps into the back seat, snuggling up right against me. This animal is immense. He must be over a hundred pounds. I gently stroke his head and he lays it on my leg. To think of someone abusing this beautiful dog and starving him almost to death just sickens me.
I have no idea what time it is or how long Storm has been gone, but it seems like forever. Not having a watch or any way to tell time is a really disturbing feeling. This experience has really shown me how much I rely on technology.
Niko’s head suddenly pops up and his ears tweak around like little fuzzy antennas. Off in the distance, I can see Storm walking toward the truck. My hearts starts to race a bit. Please, let the plow truck be here! His boots and jeans are covered in snow up to his knees. The poor guy has to be freezing his butt off.
When he opens the door, he has a huge smile on his face. “See? I told ya I’d get us out of here.”
“The plow truck is here?” I’m so excited I want to bounce up and down.
“Sure as shit is, and it’s my buddy, John, driving it. He’ll take us to my cabin and plow my driveway, too.”
“Thank God!”
“So, here’s the deal. I’m going to have to carry your ass to the truck—”
“No! I’m sick of being carried around!”
“Evelyn, don’t even start or I will leave your ass here. I’m freezing, and I want to go home. So just shut up, no chattering, no debating. All right?”
I clamp my lips shut for a second. “Whatever. Fine. Let’s just go. And you’re nasty.”
“Good. And we’re going to have to leave our stuff here. I can’t carry you and all the crap, and there is no damn way I’m making another trip. I can barely feel my feet as it is. John is going to come back and get our stuff and bring it to us.”
“Okay.” I know there’s no sense in arguing about my things. All that matters is we’re getting out of here.
Storm has to carry me piggyback-style up to the road because of the deep snow and the incline of the hill. I’m not too thrilled about straddling his back like a koala bear, but he threatened to dump me into a snowdrift if I didn’t shut up. I am once again impressed at the strength of this man, how he can carry me on his back through the snow and up the hill. I’m pretty sure Michael wouldn’t be able to do it. And even if he could, I’m not sure he would, to be totally honest.
When we reach the plow truck waiting on the side of the road, Storm gently puts me down and stomps the snow off his legs and boots. He is completely soaked from the knees down, and I am worried about him getting sick. We all have to cram into the front seat of the plow truck, but right now, I don’t even care; all I can think about is that I’m one step closer to being home. John, the plow truck driver, is nice, telling us how lucky we are to be alive. It seems he and Storm know each other pretty well.
“Am I taking you both to Storm’s place, or do you want me to take you to that little hotel in town?” John asks. Hmm. That’s a question I hadn’t even thought about.
I feel Storm’s hand touch mine, between us on the seat. “I was thinking you could stay at my place for tonight. If my landline isn’t working, I’m sure John can call Michael for you when he gets back home, since he lives in civilization, and let him know you’re okay. Tomorrow, we can get your car towed into town and get that taken care of. If you go to the hotel, we don’t even know if they have any rooms. It’s a small mom and pop hotel, not a chain.”
Is he trying to tell me he wants me to stay with him? That’s the vibe I’m getting, and I have no idea what to do. He’s right about the hotel—there might not be any rooms available. Then I’m screwed. But staying with him at his place overnight? I’m not so sure that’s a great idea, especially after the ass-humping incident in the truck. He’s ignoring the look on my face, though, and just keeps talking.
“I’ll cook us dinner, you can take a hot shower, and I have a nice room you can have. Tomorrow, more of the roads should be cleared off. I’ll take you into town and you can call Michael and have him come pick you up.”
“Um, how are we going to get to town? Both of our cars are stuck.”
He flashes me his silly grin. “I have another truck at my place. It’s in the garage.”
“Yeah, Storm has a lot of cars,” John interjects, and I catch Storm giving him a dirty look.
I let out a big sigh. “All right. I’ll stay at your place then. Thank you.”
When Storm said he had a cabin in the woods, I was picturing a really small summer cabin where hunters hang out for the weekend. I was not expecting this modern log cabin with floor-to-ceiling windows, skylights, a three-car garage with beautiful angles surrounded by pine trees. I stare up at it and wonder how a guy who looks like Storm can afford a swanky place like this. It must be his parents’ place. After John plows the driveway and shovels a pathway for us to walk to the front door, he jumps back behind the wheel. “I’m going to get your stuff and bring it back. Gimme about an hour.”
I nod at him. “Thank you. I really appreciate your help.”
“No problem at all. Storm and I go way back.”
I figure if things are weird with Storm when we get inside, then when John comes back with my stuff, I can always ask him for a ride to town, and I can just deal with the hotel crap once I get there.
Storm helps me out of the truck and I smack his hands away. “I can walk to the door myself, Storm. John did a great job shoveling.” I have had it with being carried around, and I damn sure did not want him carrying me into his house like newlyweds.
“Fine, but if you fall on your ass, I’m going to laugh at you.”
Whatever.
Niko obviously recognizes he’s home because he races us to the front door then sits there all impatient-like, lifting his front paws up and down, wait
ing for Storm to unlock the door.
“He loves it here,” Storm tells me. “We hang out here a lot to get away from everyone.”
I’m not sure exactly who Storm feels the need to hide from, but he’s mentioned it enough to pique my interest to make sure I find out.
CHAPTER FIVE
STORM UNLOCKS THE DOOR AND WE step inside. And it’s freezing.
“I thought you had heat?” He flicks on the light, but I’m so worried about freezing all night again that I don’t even bother to look around. “It’s freezing in here.”
He throws his hands up. “Calm your shit. I haven’t been up here in months, and I don’t leave the heat on full-blast if I’m not here. I’ll turn it up now and light a fire. It’ll be warm in here in no time.” He disappears down the hallway—to turn the heat on, I presume.
I finally take in my surroundings. The place is gorgeous. It’s all open-concept with a large living room, a huge wraparound brown leather couch, a big stone fireplace, a dining room area, and a gorgeous state-of-the-art kitchen. The vaulted ceilings and skylights give the rooms so much depth. It’s definitely not a small place. In fact, it’s bigger than the condo Michael and I live in. I take a few steps further into the living room. A huge flat-screen TV is on the wall, surrounded by pieces of artwork. The decor is very earthy, with some Native American accents.
Storm reappears from the hallway and motions at me to move from the foyer area. “Evie, come in and sit. I’m going to light a fire.”
I sit on the couch and bend over to take my shoes off. “I am never, ever wearing these shoes again.”
Storm is kneeling in front of the fireplace, trying to get the fire started. “Good idea,” he says over his shoulder. “Give them to me and I’ll burn them.”
“Why don’t you have one of those fancy electric fireplaces?” I ask, rubbing my cold and sore feet.
The fire is now lit, orange flames dancing. He steps away and watches it for a few moments. “No way. There’s nothing like the smell of a real fire.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. This place is beautiful, Storm. Is it really yours?”
He spins on his heel to stare at me and runs his hand through his hair. “What? You don’t think someone who looks like me can have a nice place?”
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that . . .”
But yeah. He looks like a construction worker. How much money could he make working on motorcycles, or whatever he does?
“Maybe I’m a trust fund baby, Evelyn. Did that possibility ever cross your little judgmental mind?”
“Actually, no. Sorry.”
Awkward.
He goes into the kitchen, and I hear him filling Niko’s bowl with food. I’m starving, too. I wonder if he’s still going to feed me even though I’ve insulted him. What I really want is a shower, though.
“Can I take a shower?” I call out to him, hoping he’s not mad at me.
“Yeah. Let me get you some clothes to wear.” He disappears back down the hallway and comes back a few minutes later with black sweatpants and a fleece hoodie with that same A&E swirly logo. “This stuff will be huge on you, but it’s all clean. The bathroom is the first door on the left. There are soaps and shampoos under the sink, and I think there’s a hair dryer in there, too. Oh, and there are some new toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet. Just take whatever you need.”
“Thank you. Are the phones working?”
“No, I tried the landline in the bedroom and it’s dead. It happens a lot up here. Write Michael’s number down and I’ll give it to John in case he comes while you’re in the shower.”
“Oh, good idea. Thanks.” I rummage in my purse and find a pen and a piece of paper, scribble Michael's number on it, and hand it to him.
“I’m going to make some dinner while you’re showering. You like pasta? It’s pretty much all I’ve got, since we either ate everything else already or it’s still in the truck.”
“Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.”
I almost scream when I reach the bathroom and see myself in the mirror. I look like a total mess. My makeup is smeared, my cheeks are red and blotchy, and my hair looks like a bat was stuck in it and flapped its wings for an hour. Holy hell, I can’t believe I was trapped in a truck with a man for two days looking so hideous. And what’s unfair is Storm’s hair and his damn guyliner looked perfect the entire time! Ugh!
Oh, and by the way, this bathroom is enormous. A huge corner glass shower with, like, ten showerheads and a big Jacuzzi tub in the other corner. I rummage around under the sink and find vanilla-scented body wash and some expensive shampoo. Apparently, Storm likes the finer things in life, which is odd for someone who builds motorcycles for a living. Of course, the chick in me has my radar up for any signs of female cohabitants, but I see no markers of female life in this bathroom. No lipstick, no stray tampons, no pink towels.
I take the longest, hottest shower ever and lather myself up with this luxurious body wash. The shampoo and conditioner smell heavenly. I’ve never been in a shower with so many showerheads, but it’s really amazing, like being rained on from all angles. I wonder why all showers aren’t designed this way.
After what feels like an embarrassingly long time to be in someone’s shower, I relent and get out. I wrap myself in a big, fluffy bath towel. Storm’s bathroom is like a five-star hotel.
My hair looks amazing after I dry it, and now I know his secret to fab hair—it’s from this hair product that has a French name I can’t even pronounce. If this actually were a hotel, I would so steal this stuff. It figures I’m having the best hair day I’ve ever had, and now I don’t even have any makeup because all my stuff is back in the truck. Unless John, the plow guy, came back, but I really don’t want to poke my head out there and ask for my bag. Grrrr. I grab my purse and pull out a tiny eyeliner I keep in there for emergency touch-ups and put on a bit of lip gloss. I don’t want to look like total death in front of Storm. Not that it matters, but I don’t want him to go from thinking I’m cute to scary.
A loud knocking on the door makes me jump as I’m pulling the hoodie over my head.
“Dinner’s ready. Are you coming out or what?” he calls through the door.
I open it, the remaining steam from the shower billowing around me. “It’s about time,” he says. “You weren’t in there treating my shower like a playground, were you?”
I smack him in the chest. “No, perv. It just felt good to be warm.”
I follow him down the hall to the dining room where he has the table already set. It’s even adorned with a candle in the center. I swallow hard. I have never had a dinner at home with candlelight, and it’s something I have always wished for. It just seems so romantic.
“Wow . . . so pretty,” I say as I take a seat.
“Water? Wine? Ginger ale?”
“Oooh, I would love a ginger ale.”
He comes to the table with a soda for me and a glass of red wine in his hand. He flops down in the chair across from me. “It feels so good to be out of that damn truck, doesn’t it?”
I nod as I sip my soda. “It does. I was really starting to worry.”
“I know that must have been really hard for you.” He starts to pile spaghetti onto my plate. “Being stuck in a truck with a stranger and all, but you really did good, Evie. I know I’m not exactly the easiest person to be around.”
I give him a sweet smile. “Neither am I.”
Eating warm food again is amazing, the aroma of the sauce making my stomach growl for more. It’s funny the things we take for granted. “Storm, this is so good,” I say after a few bites. “Thanks for making dinner. I forgot what hot food was.”
“No problem. John dropped our stuff off. I put your bags in the living room.”
“Oh, cool. Maybe you can give me his address and I can send him a thank you card?”
He sips his wine and makes an uneasy face. “I can tell him for you.”
After we eat, I help Storm clean up
before he goes off to shower, leaving me alone in the living room with Niko, who promptly jumps up on the couch with me. I’m actually going to miss this big, fluffy dog. I pet him absently as I stare around the room, hoping to find photographs of Storm and his family to give me a bit more insight into him, but there are none in this room.
“I see you two are best buds now.” Holy shit. He has nothing on except for a pair of black sweatpants that sit low on his hips, teasing me with a glimpse of that rippling V disappearing beneath his waistband. His top half is all muscles and ink, completely covering his arms and chest. His wet hair is slicked back, hanging down his back and over his broad, inked shoulders.
Wow. Just wow. I have never seen a man with such an amazing body in person.
I struggle to compose myself and not drool all over everything. “Storm, put a shirt on.”
Instead, he keeps coming closer until he’s standing just a few inches away. “Michael must be butt-ugly because you can’t seem to handle being anywhere near a man with a decent body without practically having a seizure.”
“Michael is not ugly. It’s just inappropriate for you to walk around half-naked. I’m not used to looking at strange men who are barely dressed.”
He tosses his head a bit, his wet hair sending drops of water flying. “Hey, I ain’t that strange. And it’s my house, so I can walk around naked or half-naked or any other state of dress or undress if I want to.”
I sigh, thinking I probably shouldn’t have stayed here in his house. I really don’t know him at all, even though we just spent so much time locked up together. I have put myself right into his home field of treating me any way he wants to and forcing me to put up with his cocky sexual behavior.
“You could take your shirt off and we’d be even.” He’s giving me his devilish smile that’s somewhere between sexy as hell and wickedly adorable. How can someone look like that? It’s not fair. He sits on the couch, on the other side of the dog, but still too close for me to be comfortable with him being so . . . undressed.