He’d beensofucking easy to talk to.
On the nights when I thought of him, which was nearly every night, it wasn’t his gorgeous face I remembered, or the way his cheeks flushed pink with arousal every time we touched, or the way his eyes went starry after I kissed him.
Or, okay, notjustthose things.
No, like maybe the world’s only word-fetishist, it was remembering our talks that got me off. Remembering the smell of coffee and maple syrup, and the way Mark would bite his lip before he said something profound. Remembering how I, a man who’d always hoarded words like a squirrel with acorns, had found my thoughts tumbling over each other in a race to burst out of my mouth.
Mark had this way of talking about things—an essay he’d read, maybe, or some ethical dilemma he felt passionate about, or the tacos he’d gotten from a food truck out in Old Town, or the worst date he’d ever been on—that drew me in entirely.
I’d never been as excited aboutanythingas Mark was about everything… Except maybe about Mark himself.
My eyes shot open.
And shit on astick, what the hell was I doing standing out here in the freezing cold like an idiot, thinking about a man who’d probably forgotten my name four years ago,as he should have, when I’d flown my ass out of his life?
I followed Phoebe’s tracks, which veered away from the pond—thankfully—and away from the rabbits, too, instead backtracking toward the cabin at a forty-five-degree angle.
“Where the hell are you off to now?” I muttered. Then I raised my voice. “You’re on kibble and water rations, Phoebe! You hear me? Those roast beef snacks are a thing of the past, and you can forget all about sharing my bacon in the morning!”
All I wanted at that moment was to get back to the cabin, build a fire, and wait for the snow to insulate us from the world. I might even break out the last bottle of—
Phoebe’s sharp bark cut through the air and my slow trod through the field of snow turned into a run. She didn’t bark unless she was injured or she’d found a new friend to play with, and if she’d found more rabbits, I’d have to…
The thought came to a screeching halt when I saw a bright red car tilting sideways off the icy, rutted driveway. The car had hit a giant pine hard enough to knock off the low-hanging branches, and its bumper was folded in a perfect V around the tree, almost like a fortune cookie. The driver’s door hung open, and the car chimed an alert that rang through the cold air, but the driver wasn’t inside.
Meanwhile, my dog was barking her fool head off, like maybe the tree hadn’t been the only thing the car had hit.
“Ah, shit. Phoebe!” I tried not to sound as panicked as I felt. “I was lying about the roast beef snacks, girl, I…”
Phoebe came bounding around the car and I had to press a hand to my stomach in relief before I reached down to rub her head.
Then my relief turned to annoyance.
Some idiot had invaded my propertyagain? If they’d come to sell me some makeup or drop off a flyer about plowing my driveway, they were about to learn they’d picked the wrong fucking house.
I stalked around to the far side of the car, where a person lay face down in the snow with their parka hood pulled up over their head.
“Shit. The cupcakes,” the person moaned.
I blinked.Cupcakes? Were the Girl Scouts branching out?
“We don’t want whatever you’re selling,” I bit out harshly. “So you have thirty seconds to get your car back on the road and get off my land.”
For the record, I wasn’t sure what I’d do if the person said no. Despite my size, I wasn’t a brutish person. I just wanted to be left alone.
Or at least I thought I did…
Until the guy on the ground flopped over on his back and bright blue eyes I’d been positive I’d only ever see again in my dreams met mine.
“You know, I remember you being a lot friendlier than this.”
“Holy shit… Mark?”
I dropped to my knees in the snow beside him and scanned every millimeter of his face, because even though I knew it was him—I’d know those eyes anywhere—I still couldn’t believe it. “Baby, how?”
“Am I killed?” he rasped out.
“What? No!” I frowned. “Shit. Did you hit your head? How are you here?Whyare you…? No, wait. Never mind. Where does it hurt, sweetheart? Is it your head?” I pushed back his hood, bit off my glove, and gingerly carded my fingers through his damp blond hair. He flinched when I touched a bump near his left temple.
