One Snowy Night (Heartbreaker Bay #2.5)(8)

They hadn’t seen another car in miles when Rory started to wriggle in her seat.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the road to look at her. It was always best to not look at her because doing so messed with his head in ways he couldn’t begin to explain.

“I’ve got to make a pit stop,” she said.

For this he took his gaze off the road and stared at her in disbelief. “I just asked you if you had to go. While we were at the damn gas station.”

“That was thirty minutes ago. And I didn’t have to go then.” She glanced back at Carl. “He has to go again too.”

Bullshit. But as if on cue, Carl whined softly.

Hell. Max gestured to the scene in front of them. Nothing but thick, unforgiving forestland. “Where would you like to stop?”

“At a bathroom.”

He let out a short laugh. “Okay, princess. I’ll just wave my magic wand and make one appear.”

She wriggled some more. “Fine. I’ll make do. Pull over anywhere, I guess.”

“Serious?”

“As a heart attack,” she said. “Unless you’re not fond of your leather seats?”

He pulled over and together they peered out the windows to the endless sea of woods. “Pick a tree,” he said. “Any tree. Make it close to the road because I don’t have any snowshoes in the truck.”

“I’m not going to pee close to the road.”

“Unless you want to wade in up to your cute ass and swim through the accumulation of snow in those woods, that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”

Rory blew out a sigh, zipped up her jacket, and pulled the hood over her head. She opened her door and Carl leapt out ahead of her. She let out a low laugh and then hesitated.

“What?” Max asked.

“Do you think there are bears out there?”

He eyed the foot of fresh snow, still coming down sideways in the vicious wind. “I don’t think there’s anything out there tonight.”

“I bet you’re just saying that,” she said. “You probably want a bear to get me.”

“I don’t want a bear to get you.” He didn’t. But he wouldn’t mind if, say, she stood beneath a tree and it unloaded snow on her . . .

She blinked into the night. “Where did Carl go?”

“Probably to do his business.” He hopped out too. “Carl!”

Nothing but the sound of the wind beating up the trees two hundred feet above them. The heavy snow continued to fall but it did so with an eerie, ominous silence.

Shit. “Wait here,” he said. “I’ve got a flashlight in the back.”

“I’ve got a flashlight too—-”

“Mine’s better.”

“How do you know?” she asked, sounding insulted.

“I just do.”

“Are you always so obnoxiously stubborn—-”

He ignored the rest of that sentence, knowing she couldn’t find Carl with the flashlight app on her phone. He dug and came up with his big Maglite, turned back and . . . nearly plowed Rory over because she was standing right there, close, like she’d been snugged up to his back, afraid of the dark. He grabbed her, slipping an arm around her to steady her. “Sorry—-”

Sorry nothing. Because she was soft and smelled good and she stood there, right there, with . . . a decent--sized Maglite of her own in one hand, Carl obedient and smiling at her other side.

“Got him,” she said sweetly.

Like she was sweet. He knew damn well she was smart as hell, she was resourceful, a survivor . . . She was a lot of things, but sweet wasn’t one of them.

Then she crouched down and hugged Carl. “Good boy. You were just checking for snakes, weren’t you? Such a good, pretty, wonderful boy.”

Carl panted happily and set his big head on her shoulder, the ungrateful bastard. They were both covered in snow. Hell, they all were.

While Rory made her way behind a tree, Max dried Carl off and got him into the truck. When Rory came out of the woods, Max really wanted not to care that she was wearing more snow than clothes and shivering, but he couldn’t do it. He watched while with shaking hands she carefully shook off before climbing into the truck. Then she stripped out of her jacket that clearly wasn’t waterproof.

This left her in a soft off--white sweater that was damp and clinging to her like a second skin. She wore a white lace bra, also damp, and not doing much to hide the fact that she truly was cold. And he was absolutely concentrating on that and how she looked like she needed a hot cheeseburger, and not her nipples, two hard little beads threatening to poke through both the lace and the material of her sweater.

Had he thought of her as the sweet, girl--next--door type? Maybe if the girl next door was pinup material, because damn. Sitting there with her long waves clinging to her face and shoulders and chest, giving him peekaboo glimpses of her perfect breasts, he couldn’t remember why he didn’t like her and didn’t want to like her.

“What?” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “You’ve never seen cold nipples before?”

Yes, but not ones that made his mouth water to taste. Kiss. Nibble. Suck into his mouth . . . “Did you see any bears?”

Rolling her eyes, she pulled a hair tie from around her wrist and used it to contain the wet mass of waves on top of her head.