She shakes her head again as snow falls heavy behind her. “And why is this bounty hunter being so understanding? Did your abs help get you out of this one too?”
I grin and lean back in the chair. “Nah, he started dating my sister, so he cut me a deal. It’s that or… my sparkling personality.”
Her eyes roll as she takes a sip of tea, the steam rising from the cup. “Security is horrible here. It’s part of why I’m moving back to the city. Bad stuff happens, but at least the cops are doing their job.”
“You’re moving back already? I thought you just got here.”
“Eight months ago.” Her expression stays flat as she holds the mug against her chest. “I romanticized the mountains. I blame Hallmark.”
I laugh under my breath. “Let me guess… you wanted a man in flannel who worked with his hands and kissed you under the mistletoe.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“But I’m right.”
She huffs out a sigh and glares at me with the intensity of a laser. “Is it wrong to want love? I mean, I think I’m a catch. I work hard, I roll with the punches, but damn if it isn’t hard to find a man who can handle a woman who speaks her mind.”
“Maybe you haven’t tried on enough flannel yet. How much dating did you really do up here?” I’m asking like I’m here to be helpful, but really, I’m just curious.
“Nothing serious,” she says, shrugging as she enjoys the scent rising from the red mug she’s holding. “I was seeing a logger for a while. He was a total loner, really set in his ways. I don’t think he wanted a long-term thing. Then, I started seeing this contractor who was really great at first, but it turns out he hated children, so… yeah, not the Hallmark movie ending I was hoping for.”
My gaze widens as I take a sip of tea. “Damn. That’s rough. If it helps, finding women isn’t easy either.”
She shifts in her seat and feathers her hair back in one fluid motion. “Mathematically speaking, there are far more women to go around.”
“Quality women, though?”
That comment prompts another eye roll. “Since when do men care about quality? They all want the same thing.”
“How old were the guys you dated?”
“What?” Her face turns up like I’ve overstepped.
“I’m just saying, if you were dating twenty-somethings, they were probably focused on sex. Most of them are. But… older men tend to have different motives.”
Her gaze widens, her sarcasm sharp as she says, “Wow. So you’re saying I should date older men?How much older?Should I go down to the nursing home and wheel home the husband of my dreams?”
“Hey, don’t knock it,” I laugh. “You never know.”
“Oh, I know.” Her eyes roll toward the window, green light catching in them. I let my gaze linger. She’s gorgeous. “So, are you one of those old men who have motives outside of sex?”
I grin, lifting my mug in mock salute. “My motives lately are cookies and staying out of jail. Haven’t dated in years.”
She scans my frame and scoffs. “And I’m sure you haven’t hooked up with anyone either, right?”
I flash a crooked smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Her eyes harden. “No, actually, I wouldn’t.”
“You asked…”
She exhales sharply and glances out the window behind me. “How do we get out of here, country boy? Doesn’t that truck of yours have twelve-wheel drive or something?”
“Try fourteen. It’s practically a spaceship, but I have this no eye roll policy in the cab,” I smirk, “if you can manage it.”
Her lips twitch, and she stands from the chair, saving the exaggerated glare for the back of my head. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Do you really want to be stuck here with me? We’re going to drive each other crazy. Plus, we can’t survive on muffins and tea, the heater isn’t working, and—”
“Come on.” I push from the chair and catch her hand in mine before she can protest.
