Page 11 of Say It Isn't Snow
He almost loses his footing, clutching a duffel bag strap. It’s not a bear attack after all.
The relief is short lived when I realize if it’s not a wild animal, I’m dealing with a man alone in the mountains with no one else around for miles.
Is he a burglar? A murder? An escaped convict? I don’t even know if there’s a prison around here, but my freaked out mind splinters in countless directions, running through the potential ways men are dangerous in wooded settings.
This creep isn’t getting me.
Adrenaline surges through me. Steeling my frazzled nerves, I do the only thing I can think of, acting before he has the chance to do anything to me first.
Heart pounding, I bolt forward and take a swing at him with my rolling pin.
The intruder chokes back a surprised noise at my attack, muttering a confused curse. His reflexes are sharp enough to catch my wrist to stop me from whacking him over the head. He’s much stronger than me, causing me to freak out even more.
“No!” I struggle, making a fist to jab him.
“Just—I’m not—Stop,” he grumbles in exasperation while wrangling me before I get a hit in. Best I manage is elbowing his gut, earning a satisfying grunt. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
Wait—I recognize that voice.
My scrappy retaliation ceases, chest heaving raggedly as I drag my apprehensive gaze to meet familiar green eyes, a handsome chiseled jaw, and unruly thick brown hair I used to love running my fingers through.
“No. No fucking way.” The raw whisper slips out of me before I check my inside thoughts.
My heartbeat quickens again, racing so fast I fear I might pass out from shock. He’s no burglar…he’s Layla’s brother.
The star hockey player in the NHL I grew up with. The one man I never wanted to see again after he broke my heart.
“Caleb?” I yelp. “What the hell are you doing here?”
CHAPTER 5
CALEB
After the weekI’ve had, I honestly didn’t expect to end it almost taking a hit from a rolling pin of all things. The drive from the airport took all day. I’m bone fucking tired after traffic, loading up on groceries, and getting recognized at the store.
I expected to be alone here.
But I can’t help the grin that breaks free at the sight of Holly Duncan huffing and puffing in front of me. The porch light catches her blue eyes glittering with indignation. Strands of pink hair fall loose from her ponytail tied up with a bow. The urge to tuck them behind her ear is strong.
She took a swing at me, but somehow I feel like laughing.
“Holly.”
Her name falls from my lips tinged with too many emotions to pick apart. Surprise. Delight. Relief.
Longing I’ve kept buried from everyone.
For the first time in days, the apprehensive weight bearing down on me eases.
“Are you kidding me? That’s all you have to say for yourself?” She smacks my chest with the hand I’m not holding hostage. “Not ‘hey, sorry for not announcing myself andscaring the absolute shit out of you. You know, like I should—because I’mAmerica’s considerate, favorite fucking hockey sweetheart. I’m waiting.”
A bolt of all too familiar desire sparks low in my abdomen at her spitfire nature.
She’s still as mouthy as ever.
And it seems I’m still as into it as ever.
I’m thrown back to the first time that perfect little mouth finally made me lose control, forgetting all the reasons she was off-limits as my sister’s best friend because I had to kiss her.
