Close To Danger (Westen #4)(42)

“Geez, woman!” He ducked further behind the tree. “Where’d you learn to throw like that?”

“Middle school and high school softball,” she said, sounding way too proud of herself.

He stepped out to take a shot at her, only to be nailed in the middle of his chest with another snowball. “What position did you play?” he asked as he clipped her in the shoulder, only to have another zing past him, missing his head by inches.

“Third base.”

She disappeared behind the car again, probably to make more projectiles. He took the opportunity to move three trees to his right and closer to both the car and cabin.

“Just my luck to be in a battle with a markswoman.”

“You started it!” she yelled and another snowball landed with uncanny accuracy on his left hip.

“What are you psychic, too?” He hurled two more shots her way to keep her undercover then zig-zagged his way to his right. Moving ever closer to the SUV, he stopped behind a thick evergreen.

A moment later a snowball hit the branches above him, covering him with snow as they shook. “No, but then, you’re kind of hard to miss.” She laughed and threw another lob, hitting branches higher than the last and dumping more snow on him. “Especially with that tail wagging.”

“Tail?” He glanced down to see W?den standing behind him, tail wagging like a happy puppy. “That’s cheating.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” she said with a giggle and darted towards the cabin.

“Oh, no, you don’t.”

Taking a sharper angle, he bolted around the SUV. His path cut her off with one well-placed tackle. Careful not to hurt her, he twisted sideways with his arms wrapped around her, landing them both in the snow they’d worked so hard to pile off to the side of the porch.

“Umph.” All the air rushed out of him as they hit the mound.

“Oh, my God. Are you okay? Did you hit your head?” The concern in her voice touched something deep inside him. When was the last time someone cared if he was hurt?

She tried to inch sideways, but he held her still on top of him as he tried to catch his breath. “Just…a…second,” he finally managed.

Suddenly, a wet tongue lapped at his face and dog breath filled his nostrils. “Ugh! W?den, quit.”

Chloe giggled, then mercifully patted the wolf-dog on the head moving his muzzle from between them. “It’s okay, W?den. He’s all right.”

The huge animal studied them, first one, then the other, his tongue hanging out of his slightly open mouth. Wes was afraid he might be considering them as his next meal. Then he shrugged as if to say, humans make no sense, wagged his tail and trotted up onto the porch.

Smiling, Chloe stared down at him. “It’s hard to remember he’s part wild animal right now. He seems more like a playful pup.”

“Don’t let his playfulness fool you. Wolves, especially those used to being on their own, can be vicious when provoked,” he said, reaching up to wipe snow from her cheek.

“Are we talking about W?den? Or you?” She wiggled her hips slightly, pressing into him

“Don’t tempt me, Chloe,” he warned her.

Her dark eyes widened slightly and she wetted her lips. “Surely, you don’t think I’m a danger, do you Deputy Strong?”

“You, counselor,” he said, sliding his hand beneath the wool scarf she’d tied around her head, and into the short dark strands of her hair, pulling her closer, “are the pure definition of dangerous.”

With very little effort he brought her mouth down to his. The softness in her lips sent heat through him. He slid his tongue between them to play with hers as he crushed her to him with his other arm. No other woman had ever made him lose control as fast as this one did. From the way she kissed him back, lightly biting on his lower lip and cupping his face with her hands, her control was just as fragile.

A gust of wind blew past, dusting them with snow from the roof.

She shivered and broke the kiss. Eyes still closed, she leaned back then opened them to stare down at him, her dark gaze full of heat and desire and something else. Reserve. “I think making out in a post-blizzard snow pile isn’t the wisest thing, do you?”

“Are you suggesting we continue this somewhere warmer?” God, he hoped she was suggesting just that.

“What I think is,” she said, struggling to kneel beside him, “that we, and especially you, need to get inside and into dry clothes before either of us get hyperthermia or pneumonia. Unlike my sister, I don’t like taking care of sick people.”

With a push on his bent knee, she was standing beside him and dusting the snow off her legs and coat—his coat, the one he’d given her the day she flew out of the cabin. Knowing she was comfortable wearing it, made him warm in his chest.

He was still lying in the snow watching her climb the steps when realized what she said as she turned.

“Speaking of sisters, I need to give them a call so they aren’t worrying about me.”

Suddenly, he was scrambling to get off the cold ground and catch her before she got to her bag.

Shit. Her phone.

He’d disabled it last night and hadn’t told her.



Chloe held her phone in one hand and the battery in the other, trying to figure out exactly when Wes had disabled her phone. She should be angry he’d done it. Probably would be angry once she figured out the mystery. Her whole life she’d been a puzzle solver, devoured who-done-it novels from the time she picked up her first Nancy Drew book and followed that passion right into law school.