I shake my head. “Look here, Pixie. I’ve just rescued you from the worst snowstorm in thirty years, you’ve twisted your ankle and you’re determined to go back outside? Do you have a death wish or something?”
A tiny smile quirks her lips upwards. “Pixie?”
“Yeah, you’re like a tiny, trouble-making pixie. They like to cause havoc. My Irish grandma used to leave gifts for them. Do you realize you’ve brought me out of my nice, cozy apartment into this…chaos? We don’t know how long this storm is going to last.” The thought of spending time alone with her makes my throat tight and my dick jump. However long it is, it won’t be long enough.
“I’m sorry, Flint. Would you believe that I’m usually organized and sensible? A lot of people are relying on me right now. Including that poor lost dog.” Her eyes fill with tears and she wobbles forward.
I bring my hands up and grasp her elbows. The contact registers in her eyes and an electric sensation runs from my hand down my spine. I can’t let go.
“I’m going to go outside to the woodpile, we’re running low on firewood. I’ll scout around for the dog. You stay here. There’s coffee, probably some food in the refrigerator. Part of our job is keeping these cabins stocked up in case anyone needs to shelter here.” I walk her back to the chair and reluctantly release her arms. Then I grab my backpack and take out the radio.
“I should call in my location.” There’s nothing on the line but static. “Shit.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Base station might be compromised. Happened a few years ago, when a snowstorm damaged the antenna. My colleague Grizz has the satellite phone. That would have come in handy, but I came straight here from my place.”
The scratching comes again and I put the phone down. “Stay here, okay? If the dog is near the house, I’ll find him.”
Poppy’s eyes are soft. “I appreciate it. Thank you…for finding me.”
“We’re not out of the woods yet, Pixie.” I pull my hood up and brace myself before I open the door.
Outside, the storm is raging. The wind almost blows me back against the side of the cabin and I have to feel my way to the woodpile. Despite the storm, there’s a warmth running through my core. My cock jumps when I think of Poppy’s soft curves nestled against my shoulder. Maybe being snowed in with this gorgeous little pixie is the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.
Chapter Three
POPPY
I’ve been holding my breath.
When Flint walks out the door, I let it out with a loud ‘whoosh’ that sounds like the wind outside. My cheeks burn, and my nipples are hard pebbles poking against the fabric of my T-shirt.
Being in close proximity to such a big, gruff guy is not something I’m used to. Most of the shelter staff are women, apart from one guy called Stone, and he’s happily married. My days are spent with furry creatures, and then I come home to work on my side hustle. When I’m not busy making decorations, I help out my parents; Dad has MS and Mom’s had some health issues recently.
So I’m not ready for this.For him. For a man who makes all my senses tingle and my head swim.
I should concentrate on the negatives. He’s ridiculously bossy, almost like I’m a soldier he expects to fall in line. Military background, maybe? That would make sense. He holds himself like a veteran; shoulders back, chest out.
Another blast of wind rattles the windows and I scoot my chair closer to the fire. This little cabin has a fireplace, a couple of armchairs with a table between them, a tiny sofa, and an eventinier kitchen with a sink and stove. I heave myself to my feet, using the counter to take the weight off my sore ankle, and walk past the kitchen. In the back is a bathroom with a shower and toilet, and a bedroom.
Am Ireallygoing to spend the night with Flint? I don’t even know him. That sexy shiver tickles my spine again, lighting up my core. What would his big hands feel like exploring my body?
While Flint’s braving the storm, I might as well do something useful. I light some candles and a couple of oil lamps, then open the refrigerator. The power’s out, but this stuff inside is still cold. The stove is powered by a gas canister under the countertop, so I light the burner and make a pot of coffee. Flint will need something hot when he comes back inside.
The door bursts open and Flint comes inside, looking like a snowman covered in white. He shuts the door and leans against it, then grins at me.
“Good news, Pixie. I found your dog.”
I jump up. “Where is he?”
“Taking shelter under the woodpile. Must have got lost, found his way here. Smart pup.”
“I’ll come out and–”
“No, you won’t, trouble. Got any food he likes?”
“Yes. His favorite treats. In my coat pocket.” I try to walk forward and Flint wags his finger at me.
