by Cindi Madsen
He didn’t know what to say to that. She seemed like she was almost embarrassed of it, though he was sure she was good at it. “Do you still do those sculptures?” he asked, thinking that might’ve been the metal thing he’d seen in the backseat of her car.
She whipped her head toward him, her eyes wide. “You remember that?”
Saying he remembered everything about her might come out sounding stalkerish, and probably wouldn’t be comforting to her considering he was currently carting her to his house. But he remembered the sculptures she’d displayed in her mom’s shop, the old metal parts she’d welded together and turned into unexpected art pieces. “They were cool.”
Her cheeks colored slightly. He’d never seen her embarrassed—it seemed she simply said and did whatever she wanted, which was why it was so damn hard to take his eyes off her anytime she came around.
“Thanks. I tinker here and there. But I wanted something that’d make a living and my art… Well, not everyone appreciates welded junk metal put together, no matter how edgy I like to think it is.” She flashed him a smile and while he’d never wish for her to wreck her car, he was glad he was the one who’d been there right after she had. Maybe that made him a bad person.
“You, uh, still live with your parents?” she asked when he turned down the small dirt lane that led home. She hovered her hand over the door handle, as if she would bolt if that were the case.
“My place is about a half a mile down the road from theirs. Helps me keep an eye on the farm. My dad needs help with it, so I work part-time as a cop, part-time with him.” It felt more like two full-time jobs, actually, and one was going to have to give sooner or later, but he wasn’t sure which yet. His parents wouldn’t want to sell the farm, but working for the town paid better.
“So you’re a cop slash farmer. Slash room renter.”
He glanced at her, the words Well, I wouldn’t rent a room to just anyone on the tip of his tongue. He bit them back and said, “Somethin’ like that.”
She tapped her thigh with her fingers. Opened her mouth like she was going to say something and then shut it. Maybe he wasn’t the only one trying to figure out what to say and what not to. She brought up her thumb and chewed on her nail, and he couldn’t help noticing her full bottom lip. “Does Derek still live in town?”
His lungs deflated. Of course she wanted to know about Derek. For the best, really, since it reminded him to stop checking her out. “He’s in Asheville right now, so not too far.”
She glanced away, so it was hard to know if she was happy or sad about that. Suddenly he wanted the drive to be over. They’d get to his place and…well, he didn’t know what, but it’d be better than sitting in the truck with nothing to talk about.
Finally his house came into view. He pulled up as close to the front door as he could get and grabbed her suitcase out of the back. Without his coat, the wind cut through his heavy shirt and T-shirt underneath like they were nothing. He couldn’t remember the last time it’d been so cold.
As they walked to the house, Kelsey wobbled on the icy sidewalk and he automatically reached out a hand to steady her, nearly dropping her suitcase in the process.
He started to pull back his arm, but then Kelsey looped her arm through his. He caught that whiff of vanilla again, mixed in with the crisp snow. When they stepped inside he stomped the snow off his boots and offered to hang up the coat for Kelsey, but she hugged her arms around herself.
“I’m still freezing. It’s been a while since I was in snow. It’s funny the difference a couple hours drive can make. Not that it’s all that warm down in Charlotte right now, but it’s damn sure warmer than this.”
He eyed the empty fireplace. He hadn’t bothered making a fire the past few days, but tonight definitely called for one. He walked down the hall, opened the door across from his bedroom, flipped on the light, and peered inside. It was a little stale smelling from lack of use, but at least it was clean. Right now he was glad his parents insisted he take a spare bed. He never imagined he’d actually have a reason to use it.
He set her suitcase next to the closet. “The bathroom’s down the hall to the left.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of something else to say and coming up blank. “I’ll go start a fire.”
Kelsey nodded, her nose and cheeks still pink from the cold. He thought maybe he’d built her up in his mind, but with the lights on he could see the blue makeup lining her big brown eyes, the nose ring winking in the light, and how her platinum purple-streaked hair was cut in choppy layers around her face.
She’d gotten even prettier over the years.
And now she was in his house.
And he had no idea if this was the best thing to happen to him or the stupidest thing he’d ever done.
Chapter Two
Kelsey watched Nate go, thinking this might’ve been the worst decision she’d ever made. Okay, so it wasn’t nearly as bad as that time she’d decided to go on the Sky Screamer at the amusement park when she was drunk. Or when she’d almost tattooed her first boyfriend’s name on her upper thigh. But this was several steps past awkward. It’d be one thing if she and Nate were friends back in high school, but he’d always stood back, a disapproving look on his face—the same look his mom always gave her when she showed up.
And now she was staying at his house and he still hardly spoke. Of course Mister Serious was a cop now. Made perfect sense. As much as she liked to think she’d gotten over her issues with authority figures, any time she saw a cop car or a person in uniform, she automatically bristled.
Granted, Nate looked pretty good in his uniform.
Okay, that’s so not a helpful thought right now. But the fact of the matter was, he’d always been good looking. Stoic, but cute. Derek had the darker features and was a total show-off. On the basketball court, at school, parties—pretty much everywhere. It was why together they were a whirlwind of disorderly energy. Derek had the motorcycle and was the rule-breaker. Nate was the quiet one who was home early, even though he’d graduated and was curfew-free. She’d never been much for blondes, but the guy made it work if you were into the all-American good boy. Which she wasn’t, as her string of tattooed asshole boyfriends would attest.
Which reminded her that staying here was definitely less stupid than the time she’d gone on tour with her boyfriend Zane—so not his real name, though he refused to give up the real one—and his band for a month. Being on the road with musicians sounded a lot more glamorous than it was, especially if said musicians only played at dive bars and always left you with the hefty tab.
He cried when I dumped him, too, as if he didn’t get it at all. She didn’t like who she was when she was with him. Or with most any guy, actually, which was why she’d sworn off relationships for a while.
Maybe that was another reason, subconsciously, she’d decided to take the slight detour into Marion. Life felt heavier these days, and the last time she remembered simply being without all the worry was when she was here.
Here, where the snow was still falling outside. She moved to the window and pulled aside the blinds to get a better look. Nothing but white. Out here on the far edge of town it only looked bleaker as far as leaving anytime soon went. It was pretty, though, all that fresh white, the swirling flakes in the dark.
Who knows how long I’ll be stuck here if that keeps up.
Kelsey released the blinds and paced across the tiny room decorated with elk blankets and other rustic cabin elements. Not much for plans—she usually avoided them, actually—but she figured this situation might call for one. After all, she didn’t want to spend the holidays here. Nate would no doubt have plans, and she hated to intrude. Plus, she and Mom had a lot of holiday activity to smash into the next few days. So maybe tomorrow after they took the car to the mechanic shop she could just thank Nate for his hospitality and stay at the sketchy hotel. Or maybe she’d rent a car—strike that—a giant SUV with snow tires and make her way to Kentucky. Who cared if it busted her
budget? That’s what credit cards were for, right?
Only she’d cut up her last one in a moment of deciding to be debt free… Now she was thinking it was more like, debt-free, but holy shit you’re screwed. Kelsey glanced at the clock. She called Mom and quickly updated her on the situation.
“You’re staying with Nate Walsh?”
Kelsey glanced at the closed door. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t come along.”
“Well, I’m glad Nate was there to help. He was always a nice boy.”
“Not so much a boy anymore, but he’s nice.”
Mom gasped. “So you’re saying he’s all grown up and hot?”
Kelsey laughed. Mom was eighteen when she had her, and after she and Dad divorced, it’d just been her and Mom, going on adventures, doing everything together. Mom always let her be who she was, even though Kelsey knew she took heat for it. Through the years, all the ups and downs, Mom was pretty much her best friend, though marrying Chris had changed things a bit. “He is, actually. But he’s also super quiet, and it’s just kinda awkward.”
Kelsey dug a sweater out of her suitcase, glad she’d thrown one in. “Anyway, I’ll update you when I can.” She said goodbye, then exchanged Nate’s coat for her sweater, and decided to go out into the living room and see how uncomfortable it’d be to sit in front of the fire, trying to think of things to say.
And if all else failed, surely he kept alcohol in the house. As long as it wasn’t Tequila—trying to outdrink a guy who weighed twice as much as she did during a high school party was another one of her it’ll-be-fun ideas gone wrong.
When she entered the living room, Nate was bent over the fireplace. The flames jumped higher as he jabbed the logs with a poker, the glow from them casting his features into relief. Even though he was crouched, he still seemed so big, and she could see the muscles moving underneath his shirt.
She squatted next to him and reached her fingers toward the fire, soaking in its warmth. Nate’s shirt had a dusting of snow on the shoulders—he must’ve gone outside for the wood. She reached up and brushed it off, not really thinking about the gesture until he looked at her, firelight reflected in his eyes.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice so low she felt it in her core.
She stared at him, her thighs starting to burn from squatting. Maybe it’s been too long since I’ve been with a guy, because I’m half-tempted to launch myself at him right now and see what happens. I bet he’d be a good kisser, and it’d take away the pressure of talking, that’s for sure.
Of course it’d probably be weird after, and say he pushed her away, that’d take awkward to a whole new level. What with the forced proximity, it was a bad idea all around.
Her heart was beating too quickly and she suddenly felt really antsy. She sat back, knees up, and started tapping her legs with her hands. “So I drank a Monster last stop, and I’m totally feeling the effects now. I thought I’d be driving through the night, but since it looks like that’s not happening, I’m probably going to be jumping around or possibly singing here pretty quick. You don’t have any baking stuff, do you? I like to bake when I’m hyper. My mom and I were supposed to make all the Christmas cookies tomorrow, but it looks like I won’t be there for that. We always make chocolate chip ones shaped like trees and stars and such because sugar cookies are good and all, but there’s no chocolate and when chocolate’s an option, why wouldn’t you have it?”
Nate’s eyebrows were arched and his jaw was slack like he hadn’t ever heard that many words together in his life.
Yeah, the caffeine was choosing now to kick in. Great.
“I don’t think I have chocolate chips,” Nate said. “I know I don’t, actually. I don’t bake much. Or ever. Sorry.”
Kelsey twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “Right. Of course you don’t. I mean, not that you couldn’t, you just don’t strike me as the baking type.”
Nate stuck the poker back in its place and turned to her. “What type do I seem like?”
“Cop fits you pretty good.”
“If I recall—and judging by the way you say the word cop—you’re not a fan.”
So he’d noticed that. Oops. “Well, as far as cops go, you’re the best one I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot.”
His eyebrows inched even higher.
“Got a record and everything. I’m sure you can use your connections to look it up.” She laughed at his stunned expression, then patted his shoulder. “Only kidding. It’s okay, you don’t have an escaped con under your roof or anything.”
“Good thing. I’d hate to have to arrest you.”
She got a flash of him holding her against a car, his body pressing against the back of hers, and the warmth pumping through her had nothing to do with the glowing fire.
Nate glanced down, his cheeks coloring slightly. He must’ve realized what it sounded like. Seeing him flustered was endearing, actually. Maybe he wasn’t always one hundred percent serious. “You want something to eat?”
Kelsey shrugged. “I’m good.”
“Drink?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Like drink, or drink, drink?”
“I’ve got a bottle of tequila,” he said, and her stomach turned. “And a bottle of vodka.”
“Now that, I can get down with.”
…
Nate’s mouth dropped when Kelsey got the quarter in the shot glass again. He’d only made it twice and she was working him over, making five out of eight. “When you suggested this game, you said you hadn’t played it in forever.”
Kelsey laughed. “It’s been years, I swear. But I used to play it a lot. Now drink.”
Nate tossed back the shot. The warmth of the fire and alcohol were a nice combination. With Kelsey across from him, her eyes lighting up as they played, warmth was coming from inside him, too.
He bounced the quarter and hit the rim. “Crap.”
“We’ll play with rim shots, so you get another chance, instead of an opportunity to challenge.”
“I get pity rules?”
She laughed again, the noise lifting him. “Well, if you miss again, you drink, so it’s still a risk.” She raised an eyebrow. “What do you say? Are you going to play it safe?”
He lifted the quarter and rolled it in his fingers. Then he focused on the cup, tossed it down, and watched it bounce in. Kelsey’s lips curved into a smile, then she lifted her shot glass and tipped it back. Part of him still couldn’t believe she was here in his house, so close he could reach out and cover the hand she had on the coffee table with his.
Kelsey peeled off her sweater and tossed it aside. The collar of her blue shirt slid down on her shoulder, giving him a better view of the tattoos he’d gotten a glimpse of earlier. There was a star on her collarbone, and then another, trailing down, into her shirt. He couldn’t help but wonder how far down they went.
Suddenly she shot to her feet. He’d thought the caffeine was wearing off since she’d stopped tapping the coffee table, but she must have caught her second wind. He watched her move around the room, fascinated to see what would come out of her mouth next.
She stopped in front of the fireplace and eyed the pictures on the shelf above it. “Whoa,” she said, pulling down the one of him, Kaleb, and Connor, his friends from the academy. “That’s a lot of hotness all in one place.”
That was the reaction most girls had to Connor. “Met those guys in Charlotte, when I was training to become a cop. Kaleb’s married—has a little girl, and I think he’s got another one on the way, actually. And Connor’s…” Nate didn’t even know how to finish that. “Well, he’s Connor.”
“And then there’s you.” Kelsey glanced at him. “You’re included in the hotness, you know.”
He stared for a moment, with his head now pleasantly fuzzy from the drinks, wondering if he’d imagined her saying that.
She set the picture back on the shelf, and continued to circle the room. “You don’t have a Christmas tree?”
“Nope.”
“That’s kinda sad.”
“I think it’d be sadder if I decorated a big tree and was the only one who saw it.”
She frowned. “I have a little four-foot tree, and no one but me has seen it. But it makes me happy when I see the twinkling lights. It didn’t feel like it could be December without it.”
Nate nodded, because he didn’t know what else to do.
Kelsey flopped next to him, propping her elbow on the back of the couch so she was facing him. “Do you have something against happiness?”
“Yes. Don’t tell anyone, but I moonlight as the Grinch.”
She giggled, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if it was the caffeine or the alcohol or the combination, but it all worked for her, and with her this close, his pulse rate steadily picked up speed. This was the best night he’d had in a while, which she’d probably think was sad, right along with his lack of a decorated tree.
She lifted her head and flashed him a smile, making his heart catch in his chest. “You’re funnier than I expected. You were always so serious back in high school—or I guess you weren’t in high school but already graduated, so maybe that’s where the air of superiority came in.”
He lowered his eyebrows. “I did not have an air of superiority.”
Her eyes widened and she nodded. “Did so.”
“Really? ‘Did so’ is your argument?”
“Okay, so maybe you just didn’t like me.”
“I liked you.”
“No, you didn’t.” She shoved his shoulder, a sloppy shove. The fact he bobbed so easily proved he’d had enough vodka for the night. “I remember one time I came over and you were playing that shoot-everybody-up videogame and I thought, I know, I’ll sit down and play with him and he’ll see I’m not so bad…”
Nate remembered that day. She’d had on really short shorts that showed off her legs, and it was the first time he’d seen the tattooed music notes circling her thigh. He’d wanted to play them. Play her.
“But you didn’t say a word the entire time,” Kelsey continued. “I purposely shot you, even though you were on my team, to try and get a rise out of you. But you didn’t say anything. Then when the game ended, you got up and walked out. That’s when I knew you didn’t like me.”