Midnight Exposure (Midnight #1)(36)

Coffee in hand, she wandered to the breakfast nook. The bay window overlooked the backyard. Everything in sight was shrouded in a shiny white glaze. Squinting, she caught a flash of movement by an outbuilding on the corner of the property. Standing in a trench they’d obviously just dug, Reed and Scott leaned shovels on the side of the shed and wrestled the double doors open.

How long would they be out there? Her stomach groaned and her scalp itched. All she needed to do was ask him if she could use the shower and help herself to more food. It looked cold, but she’d only be outside for a minute or two.

While she watched, Reed wheeled a snowblower into the open. They weren’t coming in anytime soon.

Jayne headed for the nearest interior door. A mudroom opened onto a small side porch. A freshly cut evergreen leaned into the corner, its stem submerged in a bucket of water. Next to the door, coats and hats hung on wooden pegs over a long rubber tray of boots. She helped herself to a parka and boots.

Jayne stepped outside. On the porch, she pulled the zipper to her chin and sniffed. Pine and wood smoke. The wind, though cold, felt fresh on her cheeks after she’d been held prisoner in that dank basement.

At that thought, Jayne cast a worried glance around the perimeter of the yard. The storm had slowed. Reed and Scott would dig out today.

So would her captor. The fresh air turned bitter as it blasted her face.

A bark drifted across the woods, and Jayne caught a glimpse of gray fur tearing through the trees toward Reed. Sheba. He whistled and winged a snowball at her. The dog leaped, snatched it from the air, and pranced away. Reed grinned. The rare smile on his handsome face pulled Jayne toward him.

She raised a hand to smooth her tangled hair. Her fingertip brushed across the recessed scar before she yanked it back down. This attack had brought all her buried insecurities to the surface.

A narrow path cut through the thigh-high accumulation. Not having any desire to be wet again, she stuck to it. The oversized boots flopped on her feet. A fierce wind slapped against Jayne’s back, and a shiver coursed through her bones. After her experience the previous day, she wasn’t going to last more than a few minutes out here. The boots swished though the layer of powder that had blown and fallen on the path since they’d shoveled it.

Scott disappeared into the shed.

Reed must’ve heard her approach because he whirled and squinted hard at her. “You should’ve stayed inside. It’s too cold out here for you.”

Not much of a greeting. “Good morning.”

He pulled off his knit cap, stepped closer, and tugged it over Jayne’s head. His short hair stood up in damp tufts, and his big body was close enough to shelter her from the wind. He scanned the yard before allowing his gaze to meet hers again for a heartbeat. Regret crossed his face, and his eyes softened. “I’m sorry, but hypothermia’s serious. You need to keep warm. How do you feel?”

She raised her eyes to his lean and chiseled face. Emotions warred in his expression for a few seconds. Then his poker face slid back into place, rock-solid, as he stepped back to put a few feet of snow between them. Something was up with him. Jayne remembered their initial meeting, when he’d barely spoken to her and purposefully kept her off his property. Did he feel like she was intruding on his privacy? He’d acted friendlier when they’d talked at the bookstore, although he hadn’t been forthcoming with any personal tidbits then either. Once again she thought maybe Reed had something to hide.

Jayne swallowed hard as she tried to mimic his self-control. Not likely, but she could fake it. “I’m OK. I’m no hothouse orchid.”

He glanced at her. Surprise flared in his eyes, then a quick flash of humor. “No. That you aren’t.” His mouth opened again, but instead of speaking he clamped it shut. His eyes looked wounded for a second before his features smoothed out into his usual blank mask.

“Is everything all right?” Jayne asked, taking a step toward him unconsciously.

Reed backed away, turning to the machine he’d been setting up when she’d interrupted him. He opened the snowblower’s fuel tank. “The storm hasn’t lived up to its expectations. So far, the heaviest precipitation stayed south and east of us. The coast is getting hammered all the way down to DC.”

Jayne lowered the hand that had reached for his forearm to comfort him, sticking it in the pocket of the borrowed parka. “I wish I could call my brothers and check on them. If Washington’s being hit hard, Philly probably is too.”

Scott emerged from the shed, gas can in hand. He flashed Jayne a wide smile. “Hey. Good to see you up.”

Reed cast a glance at the steel-gray sky. “This is clearing out fast. We have satellite Internet. You should be able to able to contact your family tomorrow.”

“OK. Good.” Wind swirled powder around Jayne’s feet and she shivered.

“You’d better get inside.” Reed straightened and brushed snow from his gloves. “You must be hungry. I’ll get you some breakfast.”

Jayne’s stomach rumbled audibly at the cue. “I’m starving. But I really came out here to ask if I could use the shower.”

Reed paused and his shoulders tensed. “I’m sorry. I should’ve thought of that.”

“No biggie. I don’t expect you to think of everything, and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“That you are.” Reed nodded, his posture relaxed, and his eyes settled solidly on hers. Heat flared in their green depths as he frowned. There was the same attraction she’d seen in the bookstore, but now he wasn’t thrilled with the idea. Why? Did he resent her presence in his home? Was there some reason he didn’t want her here?