“Wolfe,” I repeated. It suited him somehow. “I’m Meghan. But I guess you already knew that from the call.”
He gave a short nod but didn’t elaborate. He held his own mug without drinking from it, simply staring into the fire with that distant expression.
The silence stretched between us, filled only by the crackle of the flames and the howl of the wind outside. I wanted to say something, to fill the quiet, but every time I opened my mouth, the words died in my throat.
He didn’t seem bothered by the silence at all. If anything, he seemed more comfortable in it than he had been when I was talking.
Who was this man? And why did I get the feeling there was something more going on behind those dark eyes than he was letting on?
I pulled the afghan around my shoulders and settled in for what was going to be a very long night.
2
WOLFE
Meghan was sitting on the floor in front of the fire, wrapped in that afghan. I couldn’t stop looking at her.
I’d seen her dozens of times at the roadhouse. Always while surrounded by the crew, always avoiding her eyes when she came to take our order. I’d watch her move between tables, that easy smile on her face, the way she laughed at something a customer said.
She had no idea I existed, and that was fine. That was safer.
But now she was here. Right here, close enough to touch, firelight dancing across her face. And I had no idea what to do with myself.
I stood at the window, pretending to check the storm, but really I was just trying to get my breathing under control. When the call came in—her name, her address—my heart started racing. I’d been out the door before anyone could offer to come with me. Hux had tried to say something over the radio, and I’d shut him down. I didn’t want company. I didn’t want witnesses to whatever this was.
And now I was stuck here with her, and every word that came out of my mouth sounded wrong.
Protocol. I’d actually said protocol. Like I was reading from some manual instead of standing in front of the woman I’d been thinking about for weeks.
She took a sip of the instant coffee I’d made her over the fire, and I watched her throat move as she swallowed. Then I looked away, disgusted with myself. What was I, some kind of creep? She was just trying to survive a snowstorm, and I was cataloging her every movement like a stalker.
“So,” she said, her voice cutting through the silence, “have you been with the fire department long?”
I should answer. That was how conversation worked. She asked a question, I gave an answer, and we went back and forth like normal people.
“Few weeks,” I said.
She waited, clearly expecting more. When nothing came, she tried again.
“Did you move here from somewhere else?”
“Yeah.”
Another pause. I could feel her frustration even without looking at her. She was trying so hard, and I was giving her nothing. This was exactly why I’d never approached her at the roadhouse. I didn’t know how to do this. I’d never known how to do this.
Growing up, silence had been survival. My father’s moods shifted like the weather—one wrong word and the whole house would explode. So I learned not to speak unless spoken to. I learned to fade into the walls, to make myself small and quiet and forgettable. By the time I figured out that wasn’t normal, the damage was done. Words didn’t come easy to me. They never had.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and I finally looked at her. “I’m probably talking too much. I do that when I’m nervous. Teddie—that’s my roommate—she’s always telling me I need to learn to be comfortable with silence.”
“You’re fine,” I said. It came out gruffer than I intended.
She pulled the afghan tighter and stared into the fire. I’d made her uncomfortable. No surprise. That was what I did.
I needed to move, to do something with my hands. Sitting still while she looked at me like that was impossible.
“I’m going to check the rest of the house,” I said. “Make sure there aren’t any pipes at risk of freezing.”
It was a legitimate concern, but mostly I just needed to get away from her before I said something even stupider. I grabbed one of the candles from the kitchen and headed down the hallway.
