Page 18 of The Mating Game
“Your car won’t make it down the mountain.”
My eyes snap up to meet his. “What?”
“Had a big snow last week. Your tires aren’t wrapped. Not even sure how you made it to the lodge without winding up in a ditch.”
“I’m perfectly capable of driving in snow,” I snipe.
His mouth quirks. “Well, you can capably find yourself on the side of the road in a snowbank if you try to make it down the mountain in that little car.”
“What am I supposed to do then?”
“If you need a ride”—he straightens with his arms full of wood, his dark eyes settling on my face—“I’d be happy to give you one. If I’m not busy.”
I feel my cheeks heat a little, and I remind myself that this is a perfectly innocent statement, regardless of what my stomach is doing in response. It takes me a moment to answer, because my initial urge is to argue, but there’s a slight hint of warm rain creeping into my nostrils now that he’s a little closer, and it’s making me sort of dizzy. I blink, trying to remember words as a twisting sensation ensues in my stomach.
“That’d be great,” I half squeak as he starts to move past me.
He’s at the top of the stairs and towering over me in a matter of seconds, the corners of his mouth tilting up as he gives me a glance from the side, one dark curl escaping his might-be-staple beanie and falling into his eyes. “You know, in between all my whittling.”
His eyes move over my face as my lips press together in a tight line, and he finally moves to carry the wood inside. It takes me at least three seconds to remember how to form words as I spin on my heel to call after him, pushing down the still-writhing feeling in my stomach that’s quickly progressing to something more and more uncomfortable with every second.
“Oh, hey, what’s the Wi-Fi password, by the way?”
His answering laugh doesn’t bode well.
4
Hunter
I don’t seeTess for a few hours after running into her out back, and I can’t say that I’m not grateful for the reprieve. I thought I might have imagined it, how appealing she is—with her wide brown eyes and her pert nose that wrinkles when she’s irritated and her soft-looking mouth that seems to be developing a habit of pursing in my vicinity—but it’s clear now that she’s just as lovely as my brain remembers from last night. It makes my newfound resolve to ignore her as much as possible all the more difficult.
In the short time since meeting her, I’ve thought a lot about how doing so is in both our best interests; I know better than anyone that continued exposure will only lead to awkward situations, given how enticing I find her scent, and there’s nothing I want less than to find myself ruled by my hormones and then make an ass of myself all over again. I’ve had more than enough of that in my life already, thank you very much.
But my plans to steer clear are thwarted when I find her crouched in a corner of the great room sometime after I put the wood away, holding out her hand to a very bored-looking Reginald,who is eyeing her with utter disinterest as she tries to entice him out from the little table he’s hiding under. I watch for a few seconds as she baby-talks and coos and makespspspsnoises at him while he looks at her like she’s lost it.
“Here, kitty kitty,” she coos.
I cross my arms, leaning against a wall as amusement washes over me.
“Come here, you mean-ass furball,” she huffs. “Let me love you.”
After a beat, I decide to put her out of her misery. “You might as well give it up now,” I call to her, noticing the way she jolts slightly before her head whips around to look at me. “That cat hates everyone but Jeannie.”
As if to drive home my point, Reg chooses that moment to bound away, flicking his tail as he goes so that it whips Tess in the face.
“Damn it,” she mutters. “I’m dying to pet that cat.”
“Better men have tried.”
I catch a sudden whiff of her scent. It’s so potent, it seeps into my nostrils and seems to almost drip down my throat.
Is it somehow stronger than it was yesterday?
I clear my throat, looking anywhere but at her. I can’t help but notice the cobwebs collecting in one corner of the ceiling and frown. Not exactly helpful for my stance that we don’t need her here making changes.
“So,” I start. “What do you think of my dingy little lodge?”
She frowns. “Look…I shouldn’t have said that. It was really unprofessional.” She squares her shoulders, taking a step closer to me and thrusting out her hand. “Can we start over? I’m really sorry that we got off on the wrong foot. It was…” Her frown deepens then, her brow furrowing. “It was a weird day yesterday.”
