Snowed In Read online

  As he circled the parking lot he caught sight of her standing outside. Her breath came out in white puffs that glowed in the light from the streetlamps. He pulled up beside her and put the rig in park so he could circle around and get her door. Good thing too, since her bright red hands couldn’t seem to manage it. She all but jumped in the car, rubbing her arms against the cold.

  Between the seat warmer and the heater, she’d warm up fast. He climbed in and handed her the coat. She took it without protest and pulled it on backward.

  “Thank you.” Her teeth chattered and concern hardened in his stomach.

  “Why didn’t you wait for me before you came outside?” He adjusted the heater to blow on her feet and cranked it up.

  “It wasn’t nearly this cold yesterday.” She brought the jacket higher, covering half her face.

  “The temperature bottoms out at night. It can be sunny during the day and then a wind comes down off the Cascades and we’re knee deep in snow by morning.” There was a reason she waited in the freezing air. He wanted to call her on it, but he wasn’t sure he had a right to. So he drove, out of the resort and onto the highway.

  “It’s not going to snow, is it?” Her voice shook, whether from cold or concern, he didn’t know.

  He shrugged and turned onto the county road. “November is a bit early in the year for it, but it might.”

  She slumped in her seat. “Hopefully the snow stays away until I head back home tomorrow.”

  “You’re not staying for the group hike in the afternoon?” Since Veterans Day fell on a Monday this year, and most of the guests were spending the long weekend at the resort, he’d helped arrange a few tours.

  “Do I look like a hiker?”

  He couldn’t help the chuckle. She had him there. “There’s also a brew bus and a group going to the spa.”

  “I’m signed up for the spa, but I’m heading home after. I had to shift my schedule at work to come here, and I don’t want to fall behind.”

  “You have to work on the holiday?” He was paying the employees at Adventure Bound double time because sports equipment rentals and guided tours were more popular on long weekends.

  “No, but I do have work to do.” She pressed her hands to her face. Even in the dim light from the dash he could tell her cheeks and nose were still red. “My feet are so cold they ache.”

  He couldn’t help the smile, or ignore the way the heater blasted her sweet jasmine scent throughout his SUV. “That’s actually a good sign. It means they’re warming back up.”

  “Where’s this cabin of yours?”

  “Not far.”

  “It’s heated, right?”

  “It should be.”

  She leaned forward and peered into the darkness, lit only by his headlights. “Are we lost?”

  “I know exactly where I am.” He steered along the steep forest road as it wound up the mountain. He could make it home blindfolded, and since clouds had moved in to cover the moon and block out the stars, he almost was. The level of darkness out here couldn’t be found in a light-polluted city.

  “I didn’t realize your cabin was so remote.” A fine strand of hysteria hovered around the edge of her voice.

  “I have neighbors, they’re just a couple miles away.” He wanted to reassure her, so he reached out and rested his hand on her thigh. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I know you’re afraid of the dark, but—”

  “I’m not afraid of anything anymore.” She sat up straight and pulled closer to the door, her body tensing to hold her impeccable posture. “Once you’ve hit bottom there’s really nothing more to be scared of.”

  Her words sliced through him. He pulled his hand back, clenching his fist. As if what happened were somehow his fault, instead of something he’d witnessed. But he hadn’t been innocent in it either. And for that, she’d avoided him at every turn.

  “Look, Marissa. I know we haven’t talked much after . . .” He stopped himself before saying your wedding. Barely.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” She spoke in clipped tones, every word precise and deliberate. “I’ve been going nonstop for the last three days. Digging up ancient history is a waste of time. I’m too tired right now to get into it.” The down coat rustled as she shifted, angling her body toward the passenger door.

  Thinking of that day made him uneasy, so he couldn’t even imagine how hard it must be for her. “We need to talk about it so we can move past it. We were friends before.”

  “You’re his friend.” She shot the words at him like venom.

  There it was, the emotion she hid behind her brick wall of calm, cool, and collected. She took most everything in stride, focusing on the solution rather than the problem. Some would swear she was completely unflappable. But he’d seen her vulnerability and anger crack the walls she put up to protect herself.

  “I haven’t spoken to him since.”

  She shivered, and he knew it had nothing to do with the cold.

  “You were just in Matt’s wedding, so if you can get past it with the rest of the team, then I’d like to believe we can move past it too.” He hoped. Because the way she’d avoided him the last two days had been torture. Every time he got near her she slipped away. He wished things had ended differently, but he never could figure out how to make that happen.

  “Tanya is my best friend. I wouldn’t miss her day for the world. And Matt made Chris tell the truth.”

  He scrunched his brow. That wasn’t what went down, but he wouldn’t throw Matt under the bus. “I can tell you that whole story, if you ever want to hear it.”

  “I really don’t.” He wished he knew if it were exhaustion or sadness straining her voice.

  “You dodged a bullet that day. You know that, right?” he asked.

  “Back then it felt like I’d been hit by one.” The raw emotion in her tone had him gripping the steering wheel.

  It took everything in him not to reach for her, try to soothe away the hurt. Though it stung that she was still so caught up on Chris Brooks. The guy was an asshole of epic proportions. He thought being good at basketball meant he was above honesty, beyond common decency. The world had always shifted to accommodate him, his status allowing him to behave badly without repercussions.

  Scott had gotten caught up in it for a time. He’d been a walk-on with the basketball team, while Chris was the star. His face on billboards in town, his profile in sports magazines. He had everything, including the most amazing girlfriend.

  He shook his head and took the dirt road leading to the cabin. Whether Marissa knew it or not, Chris backing out of their wedding was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Even if it had been only hours before the ceremony. It beat the hell out of a lifetime of dealing with his shit.

  The connection between Marissa and Chris had baffled him since the day he’d met her. Her first day on campus, when he’d wondered how the hell that prick had landed a girl like her. Proximity was the only answer that even halfway made sense. They’d grown up in the same little fishing town, and Chris had locked in on her before she was even legal. The guy was an asshole, but he wasn’t stupid.

  She turned in her seat to face him and let out a long breath. “Sorry I snapped. You’re being nice and saving me from staying up all night thinking of creative ways to make Christa disappear.”

  “I’ve heard magicians are pretty good at that.”

  “They’re all smoke and mirrors and the person always comes back with a flourish. I’m thinking wizard.”

  “That’s a smarter choice. You always were freaky smart.” He didn’t want to upset her, but he didn’t want to play this game of setting off a bomb, then defusing it over and over.

  “I had to keep up.” She rested her head against the back of the seat.

  “Before you head home to Portland, I do want to talk about what happened back then. We’re bound to run into each other again, either through Matt and Tanya or other friends we have in common. I don’t want it to be uncomfortable.” Or h
ave to watch her avoid him like he’d been the one to betray her. He understood guilt by association, but surely the statute of limitations had run out by now.

  “Me either.” She pulled his jacket tighter around herself.

  “I want us to be friends again.” Hell, he wanted to be more than friends. “And I don’t think we can be unless we talk about that day.”

  “We’re still friendly. Our lives are just in different places now.”

  “Right, we’re friends. So I can call you the next time I’m in Portland?”

  “That’s not—”

  “You’ve avoided me all weekend. Every time I tried to talk to you, you rushed off somewhere else.” He rubbed at the tension at the back of his neck. He really should have taken her up on her let’s-not-talk-about-it offer.

  “That wasn’t about you.”

  “It felt like it was about me.”

  She pulled her hands from the jacket and rubbed her face. “I wanted Tanya’s wedding to be perfect. Focusing on that kept me too busy to worry about the whispers, side glances, pitying looks. Eleven people still managed to ask me about Chris. Do we still keep in touch, do I follow his career—and I couldn’t call them out on being rude, couldn’t hit them back with whatever skeleton I know they keep in their closet. I had to take it, and smile. It was absolutely exhausting.”

  “If I had known, I would have done something.”

  She released the saddest huff of a laugh he’d ever heard. “Because you’re so good at that.”

  His blood went cold as it pumped through his veins. Not being honest with her was his biggest regret.

  “Sorry, you didn’t deserve that.” She let out a long, audible breath. “It’s not a big deal. I’m over it, I am. I’m just exhausted and college plus weddings don’t bring back good memories for me. Being around his friends is the last thing I want to do.”

  “I was your friend too.” She was book smart, but when it came to her ex, she’d been completely blinded by love.

  “I used to think so.”

  That stung, but he’d earned it. He hadn’t protected her the way a friend should. “I should have told you about what Chris did when he was out of town. I know that.”

  “Thank you.” Her tight, quiet voice wrapped around his heart and squeezed.

  “I’d like to be friends again. I want to be able to call you when I’m in the city, or get together when you’re here visiting Tanya.”

  “I’m not going to promise anything at two in the morning. Besides, I don’t want to force something. We don’t have as much in common anymore.”

  He pulled up to the house, the porch lights casting a welcoming glow. He threw the SUV in park and turned to watch her stare up at the two-story cabin. His great-grandfather had built the place in the twenties. Though he’d grown up in the city, he’d always felt most at home here.

  “Marissa, I’m going to earn your trust back, and we’re going to move on from this.”

  She turned and gave him a half smile. If only he’d been able to move on from his feelings for her.

  2

  Marissa raced up the broad wooden steps to the front porch of the most picturesque log cabin she’d ever laid eyes on. Giant log beams held up the gabled roof of the porch and the extra-wide front door was inlaid with glittering geometric stained glass. If it weren’t cold as a witch’s heart and darker than a tomb she might’ve taken a walk around to admire it.

  She’d warmed up inside his SUV, but the short jaunt to the door had frozen her clean through. Leaving the big down coat in the car had been a mistake. She stomped her feet on the mat, trying to force some blood back into them. She glanced down to make sure her toes were still in place and read the mat.

  NICE UNDERWEAR.

  On instinct she pressed her freezing hands to her legs, her jacket barely longer than the skirt of her bridesmaid dress. She was out of her element in so many ways.

  Scott joined her on the porch and opened the door with a turn of the handle.

  “You didn’t lock it?” She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

  “Inside, princess.” With a firm hand on the small of her back he urged her into the cabin.

  “What if someone broke in?” A wall of warmth hit her as she stepped into the darkness. Her nose and cheeks and fingers and toes all began to ache.

  “I leave it unlocked when I’m gone in case someone gets lost. It happens out here. You can get turned around pretty easy when there’s cloud cover. It beats having them break a window.” He closed the door, plunging them into utter blackness.

  She reached out and grabbed his arm, needing to feel anchored to something. She opened her eyes wider, trying to get them to adjust. Nothing appeared, the blackness so all-consuming she struggled to breathe. She squeezed the corded muscles of his arm, ready to run back outside. In the cold. She didn’t know which would kill her faster, freezing or full-on panic.

  “Hey, you’re okay.” Scott placed his warm hand over hers.

  “I’m fine.” Her voice went too high for him to possibly believe her. So much for her declaration about not being afraid of the dark anymore. She thought she’d gotten over this. He stayed strong and sure beside her, running his thumb along her hand until she eased her grip. Her pulse slowed, her heart no longer hurting with each beat. “How do we light this place up? Candles? Lanterns?”

  His gentle laugh filled the room. “We could if you want, but I usually just turn on the lights.”

  “Are they not working?”

  “Let’s find out.” He wrapped an arm around her and lifted her off her feet, holding her against him as he marched to what she prayed was the light switch. It wasn’t some romantic swept-off-your-feet carry, just the press of two bodies together, but strangely intimate nonetheless. The lights blinked, and then stayed on. Hopefully forever. He set her feet back on the floor, leaving her staring at his chest. She didn’t want to look up and see his reaction.

  Embarrassment flooded her, burning her cheeks. “I don’t know why I did that,” she told his buttons.

  “Because you’re afraid of the dark, maybe?” He rubbed her upper arms, easing the tension and her embarrassment in equal measures. “Better now?”

  She nodded and looked up into his too-green-to-be-true eyes and had the urge to touch his face, run her fingers through his hair. Where had that come from? She backed up, breaking the connection. She might be able to build back a friendship with him, but more was out of the question since she knew she’d never completely trust him.

  “I’ll feel much better after we go to bed.” She didn’t have to fake a yawn.

  “Can’t argue with that.” A slow grin spread across his face.

  It took her a moment to realize what she’d said. “Go to sleep. Separately. You know what I meant.”

  He shrugged, the movement of his broad shoulders catching her attention. The sooner she and Scott were in different rooms, the better. Thoughts of him consumed her weary mind. Steamy thoughts she had no business having. Yesterday he’d been just Scott, handsome with a killer voice, sure. But tonight he’d become Scott, charming with a killer body. Nope, not going there. She wiped the idea from her head and her damp palms against her jacket.

  She turned away from him, her eyes widening as she took in the room. Outside the cabin had been charming, but within it had such a storybook appeal she wanted to hold out her arms and spin around. The walls were made from lacquered natural logs, which reflected the light in a magical glow. The living room had a wood-paneled cathedral ceiling and massive windows. From the glossy pine floors to the giant wrought-iron chandelier, the colossal stone fireplace and the quaint rustic kitchen beyond, the entire place took her breath away.

  “This is gorgeous.” She released her hold on him and stepped deeper into the space. Upstairs, behind a wooden railing crafted from gnarled branches, she spied a loft open to the main area. She imagined it had once been the ideal place for slumber parties and listening to the adults’ conversations. Do
wnstairs, an oversized dining table appeared to have been made by hand and could easily seat a dozen people. Three mission-style couches draped with patterned wool blankets were angled around the fireplace, and bookcases had been built into each corner. The doors were hewn from logs, blending almost seamlessly into the walls.

  “I’ve always thought so.” Scott had taken off his shoes, jacket and suit coat; standing there in his dress shirt, tuxedo trousers, and socks he seemed more at ease, and even more handsome than before. He wore his dark blond hair in a short, tousled, just-out-of-bed style that usually had her wanting to give the guy a comb. But on him now it made her think of . . . other things. He lifted her suitcase and started up the stairs.

  Even the staircase was a work of art, crafted from split logs and a handrail made from a single bent tree limb. As she followed him up she refused to notice the way his toned ass flexed with each step, instead admiring the old photographs showing the history of the cabin from its cut-log beginnings to present day.

  He towed her suitcase down the hallway to the first door, and then turned the handle. Only it wasn’t a doorknob, but a gnarled chunk of wood.

  “When my great-grandfather built this place he didn’t have access to a hardware store, so he made as much of what he needed as he could. The doors open from the outside with these burled tree roots. You turn them like any door handle and it lifts the lever and lets you in.” He twisted the knob to show her.

  “So it doesn’t lock?” She looked up at him and her breath caught. He held himself with an air of authority, strength inherent in his handsome face. She shouldn’t be this close to him, so near that any movement would press their bodies together.

  He grinned down at her, his mossy green eyes seeming to darken. “Are you worried you need to lock yourself in so you don’t ravish me while I sleep?”

  She shook her head and tried to step away, but only got as far as the doorjamb. His smile had a provocative gleam that knocked her off-kilter.