Faked (Ward Family #2)(35)

"You gonna miss anything important tomorrow?" I asked her.

She rubbed her forehead. "One class but ... I'll email my professor when we're inside." Claire groaned. "And my family because they are probably freaking out."

Visions of Paige bearing down on me had me shivering. But staying at Scotty's place and risking her wrath for one night was preferable to attempting any stupid-ass drive back down to Seattle too soon.

"I can't believe how fast this hit," I said. The peak of his A-frame cabin came into view, and the band of tension around my chest relaxed even further. All I had to do was navigate the long, slight curve to his driveway where there were no tracks to follow. Using the bend in the trees as my guide, I pushed us forward through the snow, easily six to seven inches deep given that it was untouched. When the tires, without snow chains, spun at my acceleration, I cursed. Mightily.

"I can't believe a world-famous snowboarder is afraid to drive in the snow," she teased unexpectedly. Amazing how it loosened our tongues to have shelter in sight, even if we'd be stuck with freaking Agnes, who'd probably claw our eyes out the second we walked in.

"I'm not afraid to drive in the snow." I gave her a look as I pulled up as close to the cabin as the drifting snow would allow me. "But I didn't exactly want to slide off the road when I have you to think about."

"You're a closet sweetheart, Bauer."

"I am no such thing," I replied, completely affronted. "No one has ever called me such a terrible name."

She giggled, and it made my sudden rush of defensiveness worth it.

"Why does that bother you so much?"

It was on the tip of my tongue to say that just because I didn't want to carry her admittedly fine ass through the snow didn't mean I was a sweetheart. I was a badass, thank you very much. I was an inked, pierced, snowboarding badass who'd never had a woman giggle because she called me a sweetheart, and she could have that etched on my tombstone because that was how much I believed it.

Shoving the Jeep in park and exhaling heavily, I yanked the hat off my head and speared a hand in my hair. "It doesn't bother me; it's just not true. Ask my parents."

She nodded slowly, tilting her head ever-so-slightly as she studied me.

I pointed a finger at her. "Nope, none of that. No psychoanalyzing. I don't care how you look in your sleep shorts. That's not allowed."

Claire smiled slowly.

"Stop it."

It spread even further, wide enough that her white, even teeth showed behind her pink lips. A dimple popped out. And against the blinding white of the snow, with her dark hair and deep blue eyes, she looked like Snow White.

I huffed. "Let's go inside, okay?"

"Okay."

Her agreement was too quiet, too pleased with herself, and that made me swear as much as the shitty drive had.

"The snow will be deep. Do you want me to carry you in so you don't get your shoes wet?"

Claire's eyes glowed. "That's incredibly ... sweet ... of you."

"Fine. Get your shoes wet, get your pants wet, get hypothermia, see if I care." I leaned toward her in the cab of the Jeep. "Don't come to me in the middle of the night and beg me to warm you up when your body temperature drops because you didn't take me up on my practical, logical offer, princess."

It was a lie because if she came to me and asked that, I'd strip so fast.

Everything.

My thoughts must have been betrayed on my face because the blush spread slowly across her cheekbones.

"I'll risk it," she said quietly. "But thank you for being so practical and logical and not sweet."

I rolled my eyes. "Overkill but you're welcome. You wait here. I'll make sure my key works first."

After trudging my way through the snow and up onto the equally snowy deck, I peered inside the dark cabin to make sure Agnes wasn't sitting in waiting, claws unsheathed and fangs bared.

Underneath the overhang of the A-frame, there was a large stack of firewood, which made me breathe a bit more easily. At least we'd stay warm overnight until we could head home the next day. To the right of the wood was a heavy-duty shovel.

"God bless you, Scotty," I murmured. Quickly, I shoveled the area by the door clear so snow wouldn't fall into the cabin as soon as I opened it. The key worked easily, despite the metal of the lock being cold as shit. Knowing we could get in, I turned and shoveled a single strip so she'd have a clear path once she got on the deck.

And I wasn't doing it to be sweet, but I just didn't want her to have soaked socks when she got in. I hadn't packed for more than one night, so I didn't imagine she had either. And definitely not more than one night that included a record-breaking blizzard.

I turned and waved her in. While she grabbed her backpack and pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up over her hair, I thought about why it bothered me so damn much that she'd said that.

Maybe because I didn't want Claire to look at me like I was a sweetheart. People called Finn sweet all the time, and if that wasn't the kiss of death to getting laid, I didn't know what was.

I'd been reminded my entire life, or all but five years of it, that Finn was the superior specimen in every way that mattered to our parents, and even though I'd moved on from being bothered by it, I didn't want to be lumped into his category either.