Page 14 of Mountain Man Grinch
“Wait,” I gasp. “I’m not as brave as you think.”
“You’re braver than you know,” he answers, patting my hand. Then, the snowmobile surges forward into the oncoming storm. Wind whistles and whips wildly around us, hampering visibility and burying the snowmobile’s engine noise in the steady locomotive roar of angry gusts.
You’re braver than you know. Davin’s words hit too deep, eyes pooling as I cling to the big man. I try to brush them aside, tell myself he says that to every person he protects. But nothing about this feels generic, like it could ever be duplicated.
Too intimate. Too alive.
I cling to him until my face feels like ice, head bobbing. I don’t know how he can navigate through the whiteout, amazed yet again by the Ranger’s ruthless efficiency.
Finally, a small, dark building cuts through the waves of white. We stop in front of it, and he cuts the engine. “Old trapper’s cabin. Can’t vouch for its creature comforts. But it’s a helluva lot more secluded than my cabin.”
He grabs my hand, guides me through the front door. Inside, it’s dark, musty. The equivalent of a studio apartment, a rustic bed the only prominent piece of furniture. My cheeks glow, eyes scanning the room. I tell myself the heat rising up my neck is from wind burn, but I know better.
“Make yourself at home while I hide the snowmobile and some of our tracks.”
I nod, watching him disappear through the door. Something tightens in my chest, like panic. Like I can’t stand being out of my protector’s sight. Not because I’m scared of being alone, but because I’m scared of losing him.
I plop the backpack on the floor, then pull Gus from my coat and place him on the ground. His nose dips, smelling our new surroundings as I find a lamp and click it. Golden light illuminates the small space. Humble, clean, and orderly.
Only one cot.
Only one blanket.
Davin stomps back inside with a pile of wood in his arms. He heads for the barebones hearth, kneeling in front of it and working on a blaze with the same military precision he brings to everything.
Emotion thickens my throat as I watch him, admiring his large, muscular build and quiet confidence. Fear and exhaustion clobber me, along with something else … desire.
He rises, peeling off his snow-soaked jacket. Then, he motions impatiently for mine. I shrug out of my coat.
“Princess, we’re gonna have to work on keeping the snow outside the cabin,notdecorating the bed with it.” He surveys the cot with a frown, brushing away some snow.
“Sorry,” I whisper like I’m barely holding on.
He removes his red and black flannel and hands it to me. The white thermal beneath clings to his chest like sin. His soulful cerulean eyes meet mine, and I look away quickly. Too late. He caught me drooling. “This should keep you warm.”
His body heat clings to it. So does the smell I’m coming to rely on—cedar smoke and old leather. “Smells good,” I whisper, holding it to my cheek before I slide it on.
Davin’s face darkens, pupils dilating. He furrows his brow, face stern, but something softer lingers behind the mask.
It hits me all at once, fire crackling, storm whipping around the small shelter—I want this man. Not just because he’s saving my life and making me feel safe, but because I’m starting to see glimmers of the guy beneath the armor.
“Let’s get you warmed up.” He nods toward the hearth.
I sit down, and he grabs the one blanket, sitting behind me and pulling me hard against his chest. A puff of air escapes my lips as he wraps the blanket around us both. “Sorry for the close quarters,” he murmurs against my ear. “But there’s nowhere else to go.”
“After the day I’ve had,” I tease, “you think I’d let your grumpy ass out of my sight? Even for a minute?” I pause for a long moment, one question still gnawing at me. “Do you think those men could still be looking for us? After all of this?”
Davin’s silence is sharp. “They don’t make trips into these mountains for fun.”
“I wish they would forget about me, leave me alone.”
“Not likely,” he grumbles.
My eyes flick to his face. “Why not?”
“Because of your blood … who your family is..
I study the floor for a long moment, face tight. Trying to wrap my head around everything—around an innocent call, a citizen alert turned so very bad.
