Page 2 of Snowed in with My Pucking Ex
I’ll ask Dad to stop by Tasty Sip for me on the way home. He’ll order my favorite, along with something to snack on, and I’ll be right as rain in a jiff.
The delicious thought is all the motivation I need to get me unbuckling my seatbelt and shutting the car off. I open my door and carefully step out. If I hit icy patches while driving, then I’m certain there will be plenty more around, and I’m not trying to biff it. I close the door with a sigh and click the lock button on my fob, making it beep, then stuff it in my opposite coat pocket. Once it’s zipped closed as well, I keep one hand on the car and carefully make my way around the back.
Andscream.
Chapter Two
Winter
A massive man walks behind my car on his way to my side. His presence reminds me of a grumpy bear with his beanie pulled low, sturdy Carhart coat securely closed, low slung dark wash jeans, and snow boots. I’m having flashbacks from the movieI Know What You Did Last Summer, my mind quickly conjuring up a sharp ice pick for him to wield and all.
“Whoa,” he holds his hands up, pausing before he can take another step. “Easy, Miss. I didn’t mean to scare you; I just stopped to help.”
I know that voice...
“I-I didn’t see you. Or hear you, for that matter, and you’ve caught me off guard.” I admit, taking him in from head to toe all over again. He’s big everywhere, height, width, you name it, and I’d bet he’s stacked with muscles underneath his cold-weather attire. I glance over his frame, silently chastising myself in the process because this is not the time to be checking the man out.
“Winter?”His mouth drops open, his icy-blue, sparkling gaze the one now skating over me. When we were younger, I always thought his irises looked more gray in the winter, rather than the signature blue every female reporter seems to comment on in their hockey reports. The color is so pale against the wintry white snow in the background right now that I’m pleased to note I’m still right.
“Sean?”I knew I was familiar with that voice from somewhere!
Too bad it has to belong to myex. The one I gave my heart to a long time ago. The man who turned out to be a super-talented hockey star. The same guy who was just named GQ’s man of the year.Just great.
I gaze at him, looking from a GQ spectator point of view.Why does he have to look better in person?Not that I bought the magazine or anything. I may’ve glanced at it online in my spare private time, however, wracking my brain if I’d ever consideredhim being the type of man to end up on a popular magazine cover.The answer was a resounding no, by the way.
“It really is you,” he responds, his voice laced with a hint of softness.
Is he actually pleased to see me?It almost sounds like it, but that surely can’t be the case. Not since he’s the one who broke my heart a long time ago. I need to keep reminding myself so I’m not even a touch bitter about it. Now’s not the time or place; it’s the holidays, and I plan on holy-jollying my way through the next month.
“Yep, it’s me. All in one piece,” I reply awkwardly and cringe to myself.Is that seriously the best I could come up with?I’ve dreamt of getting a moment like this, never thinking it’d actually happen in my lifetime, but I must’ve played this scenario over in my mind a hundred times and never once lacked for a witty retort. “I mean…Hi, how are you, Sean?”
“Uh, I’m good.” He nods, and I instantly feel a touch better. He’s just as weird about this scenario as I am. “So you spun out, like old times, huh? I’m glad I stopped.”
Is he truly glad it was him, or is he saying that to be kind? Also, who cares. All that matters is that he can give me a ride up the mountain to call someone, so I don’t have to walk in the cold and snow after all.
“Yep, that’s me, the spinner-outter. Um, would you mind driving me up the hill some so I can get enough cell service to call my dad? I need him to come get me and take care of my car.”
“I just passed your family in the village, so they won’t answer if you call your folks’ house. How about I give you a ride home? If you’ll unlock your car, I can snag your bags for you.”
I click the key fob without argument, enjoying how his lips turn up just enough to flash me a dimple with his cute little smirk. I always swooned over that sucker when I was a teenager. If he really wanted to knock my socks off, he’d grin, and then I’dbe toast for whatever else he happened to say. I swear, the man could talk himself out of anything wearing those dimples.
Sean Spruce was the town’s good ‘ol boy, going off to play hockey in the junior league and then again, on a full-ride scholarship. Only to end up making it big-time in the pros, getting paid more zeros than I could ever imagine spending. Of course, he could do no wrong in anyone’s eyes back then, and I’m sure they think he now walks on water or something else just as ridiculous. Typical successful jock from a small town, you know how it goes.
He grabs my heavy, oversized suitcase and my big duffel bag, which had been taking up most of my back seat. He carries both of them like they weigh nothing while leading the way to his truck. The four-by-four is big and manly, trimmed out with some beefy tires and dark-tinted windows. He opens the passenger side door for me, because he’s a gentleman like that and apparently hasn’t forgotten some of the manners he was raised on.
“Thanks,” I offer a smile and reach inside, attempting to climb in.
I place one foot on the side step, and in the next blink, I go sliding. My eyes clench closed as my arms flail, expecting to land on my butt in the snow. I momentarily brace for the sting to hit me from the impact, but it never happens. Instead, I find myself wrapped in a pair of very capable hands. His muscular arms hold me firmly enough that I’m definitely not going anywhere unless he puts me there. I sigh, because really? Of all the people for this to happen with, it has to be him.
“Oh my God! That was a close one,” I whisper. I’m out of breath from the situation when I didn’t really do anything at all.
“Mmhmm, how about you let me help you? I know you can do it yourself, but I don’t want you to slip anymore and injure yourself.”
His gentlemanly reasoning makes sense, so I nod and let him partially lift me into the truck. He does it so quickly and gracefully, I don’t know it’s happened until I’m safely sitting in the seat. I must still be in a bit of shock, because in the next moment, he grabs the seatbelt and reaches the belt across me, securely buckling me in.
“Thanks,” I manage to respond. I’m feeling a bit breathless for a whole new reason now, my body tingling in every single spot his arm just brushed against. My mind’s a bit fuzzy, like a cloud of happy warmth has just descended over me.
He smells good, too, like crisp, mountain man, if that were a smell. Pine, cloves, smoke, and snow all wrapped in one. It should be illegal for him to smell so divine when he already looks as handsome as he does and has a slice of charm to back it up. If there was any doubt in the back of my mind, it’s gone now. I know the village has been treating this man like a king. At least I can be a little miffed over that, since I’ve been dubbed a troublemaker ever since the pasture incident happened.
