“Hold on. Something’s out there.” Micah gave me a quick look before following them outside.
I’m not sure why I hung back. Regular old caution, maybe, and the fact that I was buck-ass naked under the man’s blanket. Whatever instinct it was, it sent me back into the bedroom to listen. Eventually, I heard the sound that had gotten them all so stirred up—an engine.
I should have been relieved. If someone was driving out there, then I had a chance of getting home today.
Hadn’t I just fantasized about shoes and panties and flowery-smelling hair products? Wasn’t I supposed to be happy at the prospect of Christmas with my Gran? Piles of food and presents and bittersweet holiday music? Shouldn’t I want to get back to my life by now?
The answer wasyesto all of the above. I should want every one of those things.
I didn’t.
32
Micah
Micah
Pete Carter’s tractor made it about halfway up my drive before he gave up and hoofed it the rest of the way.
And because it was Pete and not that Jonathan Crandle King of the McMountain shithead, I went inside for the coat and boots I’d just taken off, ignoring the smell of coffee and fine woman I’d be leaving behind. Because Carter only ever came up here for real emergencies.
“Probably gonna need to take off, Christa. You be okay in there?”
“Oh. Oh, yeah. Sure.”
“You got everything you need?”
“Course.”
Carter knocked—polite, as always—before sticking his head in. “Got a crew down there needs you. Trees on the line and their truck’s stuck.” He made that funny little clicking sound in his mouth and turned, as if looking for a place to spit his chew. “Idiots.”
“Be right there,” I told him, ignoring his curious look as he went back out.
Once he’d gone a few steps, I turned to Christa. “Grab whatever clothes you need from the drawers. Feed the fire. There's breakfast. It’ll probably be a while.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
I wanted to go in there and kiss her, warm my cold, rough outdoor hands on that soft, inviting skin of hers, but there wasn’t time. Instead, I turned and stomped off through the snow, convinced I’d just missed out on something big.
Carter and I spent the next five hours getting a power company crew out of a jam. They shouldn’t have been out here to begin with, but now that rich assholes had started buying up the mountain, the pressure must be on. People who had no idea how to survive without their fucking espresso machines and hot tubs.
They should be forced to stay home without cell service or wifi for a few days, maybe come to terms with the real person inside instead of posting fake-life selfies on fuckstagram.
And here I was aiding and abetting that behavior by helping out the power crews. Obviously, these guys weren’t to blame. In fact, these were the ones who’d left their families on Christmas Day to help those jerks.
God, I hated society.
33
Christa
There was only so much napping and staring at the fire, petting the dogs, and reading tool catalogues that I could do before getting antsy. I’m a terrible cook and the last thing I wanted to do was ruin perfectly good ingredients by messing with them, so I drank coffee and snuggled with the girls and dozed. Overall, it was a pretty lovely way to spend Christmas morning.
Or it would have been, if Micah had been there.
So, when Bear barked, followed a few minutes later by the sound of footsteps tromping across the front porch, I was so excited I couldn’t keep myself from running to the door. I threw it open and…
The smile melted off my face.
