She seems baffled. “But the road’s closed. It’s dangerous. You shouldn’t have been out there.”
“Nothing would keep me from coming to find you.”
The truth.
“Where’d you come from?” the man asks, but I don’t bother to look at him.
“The old Henderson resort on the mountain..”
He whistles and makes an appreciative sound.
“Ah, the cave. Very nice. Very secret. Very romantic.”
“It’s a work thing,” Liberty quickly says with color creeping up her cheekbones. “My friend here works with my brother, so everyone’s spending the holiday there.”
The pulse in my throat is thumping erratically. The more I breathe her shampoo scent in, the worse it gets. Just being near the woman is like shooting up with testosterone.
“Right. Company party,” I add, staring into her eyes.
Only…fuck, there’s no company, unless you countus.
“Want to finish your cocoa—or what’s left of it—before we go?”
“Go where?” She asks, looking a little boggled.
“Up the mountain.”
She makes a strangled sound.
“It’s fine,” I tug her close, slipping my hand beneath her hair, battling my urge to kiss that worried tilt right off of her lips.
That’s such a bad idea. I NEED to stay the hell away from her. Like a thousand miles away.
“We don’t have far to go,” I say quietly.
She’s murmuring something about a blizzard as I zip her coat up to her neck, making sure she’s protected from the elements.
Everything about my teammate’s younger sister makes me irrationally protective.
“Spence, I can’t drive in this. It’s terrible out there. My car won’t make it.”
Shaking my head, I tuck her hair behind her shoulder. “Don’t have to. That’s what I’m here for.”
I’d be here for her for everything if I could.
We stare at each other for a beat, and the way she’s looking at me makes me realize how dangerous this situation is.
If Liberty wanted me, I’d walk away from it all. From my friend, from my new job. The flimsy excuse for a life I’ve been living.
“I’m worried about Justice and Rosalie and everyone else, too,” she says.
“I’m sure they’re fine.”
She’s going to freak when she finds out we’re alone for the next two days.
God knows I am.
With tension coiling up my spine, I turn to the store’s clerk or owner, or whatever he might be.
