Page 83 of Love Under Snowfall

“So, what now?”

The one-shoulder shrug he managed zapped all his remaining energy. “Would you like me to leave now? Would that be easier?”

“Would you . . .” she murmured then swallowed. Shy eyes peered up through dense lashes as she tried to conceal her emotions. “Would you stay with me the rest of the night?”

I would do anything for you. You only have to ask.

“It would be my pleasure, Francesca.”

Chapter forty-five

Saturday, the day after the wedding: Frankie

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Frankie’s eyes popped open, unsure whether the noise came from the hotel room door or inside her pounding head.Water. Her mouth was so dry, likely because all the drool had fallen out and soaked into her pillow. God, her breath could probably melt plastic. Maybe she should sneak off to the bathroom for a quick brush and rinse before a fourth round—

Her mind flatlined when she peeked over at the other side of her bed only to find it empty.

When the hell had Benjamin left?

She slept like the dead (especially after a sex marathon), but surely she would have felt him get out of the bed. Heard the creaky front door. A chill washed over her even as she pulled the heavy comforter up to her neck.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Nope. That came from the door and echoed in her hungover skull. Who the hell was bugging her at—she squinted at the side table clock—eight-forty-three in the damned morning? An evil son of a bitch, that’s who.

Unless . . .

Maybe Benjamin changed his mind.

Maybe he had snuck out to grab coffee and breakfast for them.

Bounding from bed then pausing momentarily to steady herself against the spins, Frankie snatched a robe off the ground and tugged it around her. “Coming.”

After a quick glance in the mirror that left her cringing at the rat’s nest on her head, she shrugged. It was his fault anyway. Their particular level of enthusiasm would surely leave a mess. She peeked through the peephole and caught a fisheye view of a dark-haired head tipped down as he steadied two travel coffee cups and a paper bag she hoped contained some kind of pastry. Striking her sexiest pose, complete with knee popped out through the slit of her robe, she pulled the door open.

“Are you trying for extra credit—”

A startling pair of brown eyes above a mischievous grin stopped Frankie dead, while the inferno igniting her cheeks reminded her that she was very much alive.

“Someone’s been ridden hard and put away wet.” Todd pushed past Frankie as she instructed herself to close her slack mouth.

“Thanks,” she murmured, peeking out to see if anyone else happened to be in the vicinity. The external hallway was depressingly vacant.

So that was it, then. Nosee ya. Noit’s been fun. Noplease don’t tell anyone what went down because I could lose my job. He stole away in the night like a coward.

“Jesus. It smells like sex in here.” Todd grinned as he flung the curtains wide, unleashing the bright-as-fuck sun on her room. “How was he?”

“How was who?”

“The sheriff of course.”

“Oh, Clint. Yeah, he was a gentleman.” It wasn’t a lie. It was the god’s honest truth. It wasn’t exactly the whole truth, but whatever.

“Doesn’t smell like he was a gentleman,” Todd said as he cracked the window for a bit of airflow. Spying a small pile of empty condom wrappers on the side table, he nodded in approval. “Glad to see you used protection. Now spill. You don’t have to give me every tiny detail, but give me every tiny detail.”

Frankie accepted the offered paper cup of what smelled like a chai latte and inhaled the spicy-sweet scent. The notes of warm cinnamon conjured fresh flashes of Benjamin all over her—touching, kissing, nibbling. She shook the images from her mind. It was over and done. She needed to take it all at face value and move the hell on.

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