“What the fuck?” Jonathan Crandle, ex-boss, dickhead extraordinaire, and the last person I wanted to see right now, stared at me from under the hood of his fur-lined parka, open-mouthed, red-faced, and sweaty.
I fought the urge to step back and close the door, lock it, pretend I couldn’t see or hear him, and go hide in Micah's bed. No way would I show this guy any sign of fear or weakness.
“How’d you end up here…Christa, honey?” Even out of breath, he managed to be repulsive. His eyes slid down my front, lingering on where my braless breasts strained the fabric of Micah's long-sleeved T-shirt.
Honey?Was he fucking kidding me? I folded my arms over my chest. “What did you call me?”
“Christa? That is your name, right?” He chuckled, though it sounded more like a gasp. Had he walked here? “Had a girl worked for me for two years before I realized she was Marian and not Marilyn. Or maybe the other way around.” He shrugged, signifying how little that silly story of mistaken identity—or rather sheer idiocy—impacted him. It was all I could do not to kick him in the testicles. Again.
“What are you doing here, Jonathan?”
“Oh, funny story.” Speaking overly loud, as usual, he put his hands out, palms forward like he always did when chatting with a new customer or starting a presentation. “Power went out. And…well, I’ve got the gas fire, but um, that’s out too. And the generator’s dead, so…I’m stuck without heat.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“So…” He leaned in and looked over my shoulder into the cabin. The dogs growled from where they stood by my feet. “The man of the house around? Thought he might…”
“Might what?” Micah’s voice, quiet and low, cut through the tension.
We both jumped. I’d gotten such tunnel vision from the anger this guy brought out in me that I hadn’t heard him approach. He stood at the bottom of the porch steps, his face blank. He appeared calm and unthreatening.
I knew better.
“Oh, hey, neighbor!” Jonathan’s fake friendly voice made me want to puke. “Hoped you might have some heat or shelter or…gas for a guy in need.”
“No.” Micah's steps took him up the stairs, forcing Jonathan to scoot to the side or be plowed through, and straight to my side. He wrapped an arm around me. “Next question.”
“Uh. Question? Well, I’m not… I can’t…” Jonathan blinked fast, his eyes darting between us. “You wouldn’t let a man die out here on his own would you, neighbor?”
“I’d be tempted.”
“Are you two—”
“None of your business.” Wow. Implacable, hard Micah was sexy. In a scary kind of way. A muscle ticked in his cheek and the hand at my waist was tight and possessive.
“No, actually, you know what, Jonathan?” I put a placating hand on Micah's and stepped forward, hardly feeling the cold of the porch floor against my sock-clad feet. “It is a little bit your business, isn’t it? Because you’re the one whoforgot.” I used air quotes, because we all knew he hadn’t forgotten a thing. “To tell me that the company holiday party was canceled. You’re the one who plied me with booze before telling me that nobody else was actually coming. And you’re the one who pulled out your penis and peed off your porch before putting your hands on my body against my will. Which, for the record, Jonathan, issexual batteryin this state.”
“Oh, come on. You’ve got to be—”
Micah made a move and I stopped him with a straight arm, fueled by righteous anger. “I almost died because of you, Jonathan. I came out of your driveway on a night when nobody should have been driving on this mountain—which you knew since you canceled the damn party—swerved and went off the road.” He opened his mouth, but no way was I letting him get a word in. “I hung there, stuck in my car on the side of a cliff for God only knows how long before Micah came and found me. He risked his life saving mine. So that’s what I’m doing here, you disgusting excuse for a human being. I’m celebrating Christmas with arealman. The best man I’ve had the honor to meet. The kind of man who saves women instead of assaulting them.”
Jonathan’s round, disbelieving eyes flicked from Micah to me and back. “Come on now, you can’t—”
“Goodbye.” I turned and walked back inside, followed by the dogs and, after a few long seconds in which silent threatening messages were likely passed from one man to another, Micah. He closed the door firmly and locked it.
“I want to kill him.”
I nodded, so full of adrenaline that just that small movement made me dizzy. “I know. I’m so thankful you didn’t.”
He went to the window and looked out before closing the curtains. “Fucker’s not leaving.”
“He won’t.” I wasn’t sure how I knew this, but I did. “He’s got no idea how to survive out here.” Which meant he’d die if left to his own devices. And though I hated the man, watching him freeze to death on Micah's front porch wasn’t something I could let happen.
“I’ll give him our gas.”Ourgas. Wasn’t it funny that he said it that way?
“And carry it up to his place for him?” He opened his mouth and I interrupted. “And how long will it last? Clearly, the guy’s guzzling energy.”
“Probably got his whole fucking house rigged up to the generator.” Micah sighed. “Fuck.”
