“Oh!”
Icy slush engulfed my practically bare feet, and my gasp was as much for my poor sandals as it was a response to the cold. I had no choice but to step away from the door, in the squishy mixture of snow and mud, getting blasted by wind and snow for my trouble.
“But…it’s practically June!” I complained.
Don’t get me wrong. I grew up in Rhode Island, so I’m no stranger to snow. But this? It was just wrong. I tugged my jacket tighter around me, paralyzed by my shock as I watched the rest of the group shuffle toward the visitor center.
Most of them were wearing either sturdy walking shoes or hiking boots.
And jeans.
Of course, they were.
“You’re wasting time, Grumpy Girl,” Noah said from behind me, his voice dancing with that calm amusement which, in that moment, should have been infuriating.
So…why wasn’t it?
I met his gaze with a frown. “Maybe I’ll skip this stop.” I lifted one foot and then the other, cringing. “Just get back on the bus…”
But Noah Grady was shaking his head, in a half-joking I-told-you-so kind of way. “There are at least two hours before the next stop,” he pointed out.
“But my toes will literally fall off.” Did I sound a little whiny? Maybe? But it was really cold.
Noah looked around, scanning the snow-covered path and the small group trudging through it. When his eyes landed on me again, I squirmed.
“Do you want to go in?” he asked.
Would I survive traipsing through the snow practically barefoot? Yes. Would I survive using the facilities on the bus? Not so sure about that. Also…I could really use a cup of coffee or—no, hot tea would be even better. After a moment of shuffling awkwardly, I bit my bottom lip before admitting, “Well, yeah…”
Before I could say more, Noah had crouched in front of me and, one swift motion, tossed me over his shoulder.
“Whuh—hey!” I squeaked, my voice half smothered by the back of his jacket. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you to the visitor center,” he said, as if this were the most reasonable solution in the world.
The snow crunched under his boots as he started walking.
“Oh my God,” I grunted. “Seriously?” Was this worse than when he’d shoved my bag into the overhead compartment on the plane without asking? Or when I thought he’d been suggesting I needed a drink to calm down?
Or…
Was it kind of…hot?
I blinked, and while gravity forced about half my blood into my head, I found myself staring right at his butt. Shapely, tight, and firm. Perfect, actually. Maybe forearms weren’t the only thing that caught my attention where guys were concerned.
“You don’t have to do this,” I muttered in a feeble protest.
“I know,” he replied, and I could feel his voice rumbling. It was the same voice that had irritated me from the moment I met him, the one that seemed to make light of everything. But now, somehow, it wasn’t infuriating at all. If anything, it was…oddly soothing?
And fine, maybe this whole knight in shining armor/caveman thing was kind of turning me on.
“Are you always like this?”
“A problem solver? Helpful?” he asked, his tone light, amused. “Maybe.”
So, he was just being…a nice guy? Could that be the sole reason he’d literally carry me across a slushy parking lot?
He wasn’t flirting with me…was he?
