On a Snowy Christmas Night (10 page)

“I meant I’d give her my share.”

“Do you know how much a horse eats?” he asked, and she blushed. “We’ll have to conserve our food. Water we’ll have plenty of.”

“And whiskey,” she murmured.

He’d almost forgotten. “You want a drink?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know why I brought it up.”

“I’m having a shot.” He stood and was reminded he wore only boxers when she darted a glance at him, then quickly looked away.

“I don’t suppose there’s any coffee fit to drink.” She twisted around to study the shelved cans, giving him another tempting view of bare legs.

“I’ll look.” First, he checked on the progress of his thermals. They normally dried quickly but he was asking for too much. Still damp. “There should be a pair of tin cups around here somewhere.”

The wind had died down, at least it had stopped rattling the shack’s old frame, and just maybe the place would still be standing by the time they got out of here. Nah, he really wasn’t worried about the place. Though carpentry had never been his or Cole’s strong suit. And certainly not when they’d been eighteen and nineteen.

But when he’d spent those two days by himself he’d reinforced the door frame, repaired a few loose boards and patched three places on the roof. He’d already figured by then the shack wouldn’t be used much, but he’d been driven to use his hands. His overtaxed brain had needed the distraction.

He should’ve been on top of the world at the time. Everyone else thought so. And they were right. Twenty-six years old, a pilot in the United States Air Force, months away from being made captain. Most guys who’d been through all the training and jumped all the hurdles to sit in an air force cockpit were lifers. Flying in the military wasn’t something you did on a whim. It was a passion, a calling. Even though he hadn’t been among the hotshots and flyboys, he’d been necessary in the scheme of things. He did a job that mattered and that had felt damn good. But most of the other pilots also called the military their home. They didn’t have the Sundance waiting for them on the other side of the world. If only that feeling of being needed, being an integral part of something bigger, was as true at the ranch as it had been in the air.... But that wasn’t how it had worked out.

“Look at me sitting here,” Shea said. “I should be helping.”

He jerked, realizing that he’d been staring at the row of canned goods. “Nah.” He shook off the haze and gestured for her to stay seated. “I don’t need help.” He raked a hand through his short hair. “There might be some coffee in this canister,” he said, a flicker of memory bringing him to a crouch as he picked up the aluminum container. “It’ll probably be stale but we might be desperate enough.”

She’d already gotten to her feet. “I’m assuming you know how to brew over an open fire. I can at least add more logs.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“You get the coffee ready.”

“Shea, wait.”

Juggling three logs that she’d already gathered, she slowly straightened.

He was hoping to avoid this conversation. “One log at a time, okay?”

Her gaze went first to the pair of logs he removed from the cradle of her arms, and then to the small reserve pile. “Oh, we don’t have enough wood.”

“We need to go easy on how much we use, that’s all.”

“I should’ve realized...” She shook her head. “Let’s forget the coffee,” she said, returning the log to the stack.

Jesse blew out a stream of air. He could still see his breath but the shack was warmer. “We have to be sensible, but that doesn’t rule out coffee.”

“I vote for the whiskey,” she said, struggling with the sagging blanket.

“Hopefully we’ll have both.”

He went to work, feeding one of the logs to the fire then assessing the coffee situation. There was about a cup’s worth of grounds. No doubt old, but he was willing to give it a shot. Not all the snow he’d collected had melted yet, but there was enough to get a pot brewing.

Shea had found the tin cups and was dubiously inspecting the insides when he turned around.

“Just blow out the dust,” he said, picking up the bottle of Jim Beam. “Think of all the crap we ate off the floor as babies.”

“True.” She peeked into the bucket. “But since we’re in no short supply of snow, I think I’ll go a step further.”

He watched with amusement as she daintily used her fingers to scoop snow into each cup, then swished it around. Once she’d scrubbed the cups to her satisfaction, she scanned the room, her gaze hesitating on some rags they’d found, before she set down the still-damp cups.

He unscrewed the cap on the whiskey and reached for one.

“I’m not done with them.” She’d left the blanket in a heap on the stool and was unzipping her jacket.

There he went again, staring at her legs. Man, he had to get a grip on himself. He’d been lucky she’d let the kiss slide.

When she picked up a cup and lifted the hem of her shirt, exposing skimpy bikini panties, Jesse tipped the entire bottle to his lips.

10

D
ESPITE
THE
MISTAKES
she’d made since this morning, Shea had been able to compartmentalize so that everything had seemed manageable. Until this moment.

Because Jesse was standing right there in his boxers...and he had a hard-on....

She didn’t dare look again.

Taking a deep, even breath, she focused on wiping out the cups, making sure she didn’t leave any lint behind. Now her hem was damp. So what, it would dry soon enough. She pulled the black flannel shirt down and smoothed it over her belly, the whole time keeping her eyes downcast.

She’d lived with a man for nearly two years, after all, so she was familiar with erections, for goodness’ sake. Admittedly, though, Jesse’s was quite impressive.

Good grief, she could
not
look there again.

Keeping her gaze averted, she slowly lifted her chin. Then chanced a peek.

Jesse used the back of his sleeve to wipe his mouth. She was relieved when his eyes didn’t meet hers...except...where was
he
looking? God.

In spite of her best intention, her gaze dropped to his fly. She tried to swallow but couldn’t summon enough saliva. Oh, this was a problem. A very big problem.

“Shea?”

“I decided against the coffee,” she said, instinctively squeezing her thighs together. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep instead.” Oh, she so wanted to snatch up that blanket and wrap it around herself, but it wasn’t fair to him. It was his turn.

“Here, have some of this.” He poured the whiskey into the cup and passed it to her. “I know you’re not much of a drinker, take your time, sip on it for a while and—”

She downed the entire contents. Before she could finish swallowing, she started to cough. Not a small polite cough, but a horrible, out-of-control wheezing shudder that shook her whole body.

Embarrassed, she covered her face with her hands.

“Hey.” Jesse pried her fingers away and pushed the cold tin cup against her palm. “Try this.”

“No, I’m never ever going to—” She coughed again.

“It’s water. Melted snow. It won’t kill you.”

“How do you know?” she murmured, completely miserable.

He smiled. “Guess you’ll have to trust me.”

She managed to get the liquid down, which did help lessen the burning in her throat. “I did, and look how well that turned out.”

“In my defense, you weren’t supposed to gulp it.”

“It’s still your fault,” she was able to utter without coughing.

“How?”

“By standing there—” she took another cautious sip, eyes downcast, and waved a hand in his general direction
“—like that.”

“Ah.” He noisily cleared his throat. “Perfectly normal healthy male reaction. It’s not like I planned it.” He turned to head toward the cot. “I’ll put my Levi’s back on.”

“Are they dry?”

He hesitated. “No.”

“Well, then that’s silly.” Moving closer to the stove, she put her hands out to warm them, and longingly eyed the blanket. It had made a huge difference. “Use that instead. It’s your turn, anyway.”

“I’m sorry, Shea. I am. We’ll be here awhile and I don’t want it to be awkward.”

Had he already forgotten about the kiss? “No problem.” She couldn’t look at him but concentrated on rubbing her hands together. “Really, I understand. I know it’s not personal—” She gasped when she felt something touch her shoulders.

It was Jesse, trying to drape the blanket around her.

“No,” she said, attempting to evade him, except she was trapped between him and the stove. “I’m not cold, really, just my hands.”

“You’re shivering.” He ran his palms down her arms, then stepped back.

Clutching the blanket to her breasts, she turned to face him. “This solves only one problem,” she said, hoping she didn’t have to elaborate. “We’d both benefit from you covering up.”

“Ah.” His lips twitched. “Problem is, that goes both ways.”

This wasn’t good, him standing so close...her facing him. She could feel the heat spreading from her pelvis in all directions, not embarrassment exactly, but a sexual response that wasn’t listening at all to the voice in her head that insisted she settle down. How could she process what he was saying when she couldn’t think straight?

She glanced down at her weak knees—at least they only felt wobbly. When she lifted her gaze she saw that he was a bit too interested in her legs.

“Oh.” His words were starting to make sense. She blinked, and instinctively glanced at his fly. “You said it wasn’t personal.”

“No, you said that.” He rubbed the back of his head, his cheeks puffing out as he exhaled. “Do us both a favor,” he said gruffly. “Keep the blanket.”

“Jesse...” She started to touch his arm, then reconsidered.

“What?” He wouldn’t look at her.

“Thank you...for everything.”

“Sure. No problem.” He went around the stove to the cot and picked up his jeans.

“Wait.”

“I’m going outside to get more snow.”

“Please, don’t.”

“We have to maintain a water supply.”

She didn’t want him to be angry with her. Or for him to misunderstand her reaction to him. If she let him leave he’d probably stay outside for as long as he could, all because of her and her awkward response. She’d never known what to say or do at the right time. “That’s not what I meant.”

He shook out the jeans, and sat on the cot. Holding up the trousers, he leaned back and started to cram a leg in when she heard a rip. Jesse froze. Their eyes met for a split second, and then another loud tear. He jerked upright but not before the cot gave.

“Goddammit.” He threw up an arm as he fell backward, and Shea caught his hand. He had a good eighty or ninety pounds on her and almost pulled her down with him. She held on tight, leaning back to use her own weight as leverage until he was able to stand.

The look on his face was priceless. Pressing her lips together, she backed away and tried not to laugh.

“You think that was funny?” He didn’t seem amused. “I was going to be a gentleman and give you the cot tonight.”

“Thank you for testing it for me.” She managed to keep a straight face but when he caught her wrist and pulled her toward him, she let out a yelp.

Momentarily panicked, she started to fight him. His expression stopped her. This was Jesse...but it wasn’t. The heat that had just started to calm flared again, licked up her spine and filled her chest. She couldn’t seem to speak. Her dry mouth felt as if it was filled with cotton. She couldn’t look away, either.

His hooded brown eyes seemed darker, more intense, and his nostrils flared slightly. “I want to kiss you,” he said quietly. “I’m going to kiss you,” he amended. “You have to tell me no.”

His arm came around her waist, and she melted against him. If she’d wanted to move it would’ve been impossible.

Oddly, she wanted to stay right where she was, letting him trace her lips with his forefinger. The awareness coursing through her was both terrifying and exciting, nothing she’d ever experienced before. Even though sex with Brian had never been good, intellectually she thought she knew how she was supposed to feel. This wasn’t like anything she’d imagined.

She swallowed around the lump in her throat. How long had it been since she’d been kissed? A year, two years? Long before Brian had moved out, their physical relationship had died. They might as well have been brother and sister or platonic roommates. The way she felt with her breasts pressed against Jesse’s chest was anything but sisterly.

He dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers. “Last chance.”

She took a shuddering breath, not understanding her sudden frustration. Outrage or reticence or even fear would be far more appropriate responses. But frustration?

His other arm came around her so that both his hands rested on the curve of her backside. She fisted the blanket so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. Her whole body shifted, yet he hadn’t moved her...so what...?

To her utter astonishment, she’d pushed up onto the tips of her toes. He touched his tongue to the corner of her mouth, and her lips seemed to part without her permission. Still he didn’t rush, just tasted and teased, chasing away her confusion until she softened her mouth and opened wide enough to invite him inside.

Groaning, he pulled her closer to his lean, hard body. The thickness and heat of his erection was startling, but she didn’t want him to stop. She just stood there and let him kiss her, slowly, thoroughly, as she’d never been kissed before. The dark stubble on his chin and jaw lightly grazed her skin, and how could she possibly find that arousing? Nothing made sense.

When he drew his head back, her vision was so bleary she could barely see his face.

“I’m pretty sure you don’t mind me kissing you,” he said, then gently brushed his lips across hers. “But you’re not kissing me back.”

“You’re going to be disappointed,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

He stilled and gave her a long puzzled look. “Disappointed?”

Blinking away the remnants of her hazy vision, she nodded and looked him directly in the eyes, hoping he’d understand.

“You won’t disappoint me.” His expression softened. “I can promise you that.”

“I wasn’t referring only to myself.” Her gaze didn’t waver. “I’ll be disappointed, too.”

His brows shot up, his hands at her back slackened and he choked out a laugh.

“The kissing was nice,” she admitted, mildly startled that she wished he was still kissing her. “But going further will just mess everything up. We both know sex never lives up to expectations.”

“Uh...” He studied her face. “No, somehow that one got by me.”

Shea sighed. Yes, she was often clueless. She knew that, but the male ego was one thing she did understand. Good grief, she hoped he didn’t mistake her edict for a challenge. She’d stated a simple fact, that’s all.

Her gaze snagged on his damp mouth. He truly had great lips, perfectly shaped and just the right amount of fullness. Darn it. Maybe she should’ve let him kiss her a bit longer before she brought up the harsh truth.

“Well, I’m glad we cleared that up,” she said, moving back until he released her.

“Yeah, clear as mud.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I don’t know who you’ve—” Stopping himself, he passed a hand over his face then exhaled slowly. “Think I’ll go get that snow.”

He grabbed the bucket and was out the door before she could remind him he’d forgotten to put on his jeans.

* * *

T
HE
SKY
WAS
STILL
dark gray, but not black like it had been earlier. Jesse squinted up at the falling snow and then to the pine trees flanking the shack, their branches hanging heavy with ice. He hated sleet. Give him the good ol’ powdery variety any day.

And a woman he could understand.

Not that he could figure out most of them. With Shea, though, he was way out of his depth. No matter. If he didn’t go back inside, his pecker was liable to freeze off.

Shit.
How could a man forget to put on his Levi’s?

Before he started shivering like a damn fool, he carried the bucket of snow inside. He was immediately greeted by Shea holding open the blanket. “Keep that on,” he said, walking past her to place the bucket close to the heat.

“Don’t be stubborn.”

“I’m being sensible.” He picked up his jeans. “You not getting your way doesn’t make me stubborn.”

She yanked the Levi’s out of his hands. “They aren’t dry. Not even close. How rational does that make you?”

Surprised, he noticed the slight lift of her chin. “Good. Something lit a fire under your butt. We could use all the heat we can get.” He’d had a better way of warming up but that obviously wasn’t going to work. “Give me back my jeans.”

“No.” She tossed them on the cot, then blocked his avenue to retrieve them and held up the blanket again.

He thought for a moment. “Okay, have it your way.” He turned around, smiling when she couldn’t see his face, waiting for her to drape the blanket on his shoulders.

She did, her hands tentative and hovering. “Have you got it?”

Before she could move away, he caught the edge of the material and shifted positions to face her. “So, how do you see this playing out?”

“This?” Moistening her lips, she took a step back.

“One blanket, limited supply of wood. The wind has subsided, the snow has let up some, but not enough...” He kept his gaze level with hers, resisting the urge to look down at her bare legs. “Most likely we’ll be here all night.”

“Yes, but this isn’t new information. We’ve already considered the possibility.”

“True, but we haven’t discussed how to
rationally
make our night as comfortable as possible.”

“We have to behave like adults.”

“I figured that was a given.” He smiled when her gaze sharpened into a slight glare. He couldn’t help it then, and glanced down at her legs, to that sweet spot, that narrow strip of space where her thighs didn’t touch. It was a turn-on for him, had been since he’d been old enough to appreciate the opposite sex.

Shea took a deep shuddering breath that snapped him back to the conversation. “That wasn’t a challenge,” she said softly, “what I told you earlier.”

“What?” He had no business playing dumb. Gawking at her like he had, he deserved to be called out. “I didn’t interpret it as a challenge.” He wished she’d take the damn blanket. Not just to cover up, but he wanted her warm. “Naturally it crossed my mind that you haven’t been with the right guys—”

She rolled her eyes.

“Hey, like I said, it was a natural reaction. Sex is great. Usually. Sometimes not so much. I’m speaking in general terms....”

With a resigned expression, she shook her head. “We’re conditioned to assume that it’s this spectacular event that we should— What’s that look for? You think I’m a virgin.”

“Nope. I’m not thinking anything.” He tapped a forefinger at his temple. “Totally empty in here.”

“I’ve had sex before. I even lived with someone for almost two years.”

He frowned, taking a second to mull over a disturbing thought. “A guy?”