“My grandma dropped me off. I’ll have to call her.”
I wave off her words. “We’ll take my truck.”
I’m not prepared to wait around. The sooner this girl is gone, the sooner I can unscramble my damn brain. I’m already heading back toward the front door and into the forest, Aria hurrying after me.
It’s snowing harder now, with buckets of fat white flakes swirling around us.
“Thorne, for goodness’ sake,” Aria protests, struggling to keep up with my strides. “Is this really necessary? Would it be so hard to just talk to me?” She sounds almost hurt, and it makes my heart ache.
Fuck, she has no idea what she’s doing to me.
“Just let me get you home, Aria,” I tell her, trying to soften my gruffness.
I hear her sigh, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she follows me through the trees to my truck. There are tire marks in the snow behind it, presumably where Bonnie dropped her off earlier.
I pull open the passenger-side door of my truck. As Aria climbs in, I catch the scent of her sweet perfume, breathing it in. It clings to me as I jump into the driver’s seat and slide my key into the ignition, turning it. The engine cranks, about to catch.
Then it stalls.
Scowling, I turn the key again.
This time, the engine flares to life. I ease my foot off the gas and the truck rolls forward. Then it shudders to a halt. Stalled again.
“God-fucking-dammit.”
I try again. And again. Sometimes the engine sputters. Sometimes it starts, running for a couple of seconds before it stalls again. I think back to a few days ago when my truck was buried by a blizzard. The cold must have damaged something.
“Maybe I could call Grandma,” Aria says hesitantly.
“No. I’m not asking Bonnie to drive up here in this.” My mind races with possibilities, running through what to do. But there’s only one option.
“You’ll have to stay for now,” I grunt, scowling bitterly at the snow falling outside the window.
“Jeez,” Aria says. “Maybe try to cool it a little with the excitement.”
4
ARIA
I followThorne back to his cabin, sneaking glances at him as we walk. When I knocked on his door earlier, I was expecting an old man. A crabby-looking Santa Claus with an axe and a scowl.
I was not expecting the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.
Thorne is a giant. At least six and a half feet tall, with stupidly broad shoulders and biceps the size of my head. The fabric of his red plaid shirt strains around his muscles. I can’t stop staring.
There must be something in the water up here.
He looks like he’s in his early forties, still too old for a twenty-two-year-old like me to be drooling over. But somehow, his age only makes him hotter. The frown lines, crow’s feet, silver streaks in his russet beard—all of it adds to his rugged maturity. I like that he’s older. I like it more than I should.
Even though Thorne isn’t the crabby Santa Claus I expected, I was right about the scowl. His dark brows draw naturally downward, creasing over his piercing green eyes. Frowning seems to be his default. If this man told me he’d never smiled before, I’d believe him without a doubt. Grandma sure wasn’t kidding when she said he was grumpy…
It’s just a shame she forgot to mention that Thorne Dalton is the most infuriating man in Crave County.
I knew he wouldn’t be thrilled to see me. It’s not like I was expecting a welcome party, but it’s as if Thorne physically can’t bear my presence. I think he might genuinely be allergic to me.
Maybe city girls bring him out in a rash.
“This doesn’t change anything, princess,” Thorne says, snapping me back to reality with his deep, rumbling voice. “As soon as I fix my truck, I’m taking you back to Cherry Hollow.”
