She moves to the table, and we eat in surprisingly comfortable silence. Every so often, I catch her stealing glances at me, and I wonder what she’s thinking. If she is as aware of this weird tension between us as I am. I need to give myself some space. Some air. Some distance from her vanilla scent and her pretty eyes and the way she makes me want to know everything about her.
“I’m going to go grab the wine and cheese before they freeze,” I say, standing abruptly. “Make sure we’re all set for the night.”
She nods, and I grab my jacket and head back out into the storm. The cold air hits me like a slap, and I welcome it. Need it. Needing something to clear my head. Reaching her car, I open the door, and her scent hits me again. I let out a frustrated growl, trying to ignore my body’s reaction to it as I search forher things. I find a cardboard box filled with six bottles of wine. That is a lot of wine for one person. Is she an alcoholic? I look back at the ranger’s station and then back to the box of wine. She said something about going through it, so maybe she’s here to drown her sorrows. Even more reason to steer clear of her. I see the grocery bag of cheese and grab it as well. At least this beats what’s in the cupboards. This is temporary. In a few days, the storm will pass, she will leave, and I will go back to my life. And that will be it. That is all this can be.
I take a deep breath to steel myself, and head back inside with the goodies. Sloane is still sitting at the table, her phone plugged into the charger, a small smile on her face as she texts someone. Probably that friend of hers. Riley, I think she had said, she’s probably worried about her.
“Got your wine. There’s a lot of it,” I say, stomping snow off my boots.
“Great. Thank you.” She looks up at me with something softer in her expression. She’s less guarded. “No one was supposed to see that.” She winces.
“Your secret’s safe with me.” I place the box down on the kitchen counter. I pull off my jacket and hang it on the hook by the door again. When I turn back to her, curiosity gets the better of me. I want to know her story. Need to understand what has brought her up here alone.
“So,” I say, moving to lean against the counter. “Want to tell me what you’re really doing up here alone with all this wine?”
“Not particularly.” She focuses intently on a piece of lint on her pants, not meeting my eyes.
“Come on. We are about to spend the next three days together. I should know that I’m not sharing a cabin with an axe murderer.” I raise a brow at her, keeping my tone light. Teasing.
Her own brows pull together as if my question is absurd. “I’m not an axe murderer.” She scoffs, but I notice the corner of her mouth twitch.
“See, that is what an axe murderer would say to throw me off the trail.”
“You’re the one who knows how to use an axe, maybe it is you.” She suddenly stills, and I see the moment reality hits her.
Oh shit.
She thinks I might actually be a bad guy. Damn it. I meant it as a joke, but I’ve just made her realize she’s stuck in a remote cabin with a strange man she doesn’t know. Real smooth, Reid.
“Hey.” I move closer slowly, hands visible, non-threatening. “I’m just making light of the situation. I did not mean to freak you out. Here.” I pull out my wallet and take out my ID, handing it to her. “I promise I’m a firefighter working with Search and Rescue, and I’m just here to keep you safe.”
She takes the ID, studying it carefully. Her hands shake slightly. “Do you mind if I take a photo and send it to my friend? She’s worried about me.”
“Please.” I nod. “I want you to feel safe.”
She grabs her phone and snaps a photo of my ID. Almost immediately, her phone buzzes with a response. Her cheeks flush bright red, and she shoves the phone back in her pocket quickly. Too quickly.
“What did she say?” I ask, curious.
“Nothing,” she says, handing my ID back. Our fingers brush. An electric zing shoots through me, sharp and undeniable. I see her eyes widen slightly, then feel her pull back. Did she feel it too? We both frown at the contact, the unexpected jolt, before quickly looking away. Ignoring it, we pretend it didn’t happen. Except it did happen.
“All good?” I ask, tucking my ID back in my wallet.
“Yep. All good.” She gives me the most awkward two thumbs up I have ever seen, and I fight the urge to laugh. She’s adorable. Completely, disarmingly adorable. Stop it, Reid. “Great. Now we are emergency friends,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. Trying to get us back to the comfortable ground we were on before I made that lame joke. She gives me a warm smile, and I relax a little, happy that I haven’t messed things up completely. This was going to be a very long three days. “So,” I say, moving to the small kitchenette to clean up. “You said earlier you were going to spend the night in bed watching movies. What kind of movies are we talking about?”
Her brows pull together slightly at my question. Did I ask the wrong thing? “Christmas movies.” She says defensively, like she expects me to judge her.
“Cool. I like Christmas movies too.”
“I wasn’t talking about Die Hard,” she says sarcastically.
“Neither was I.” This catches her off-guard.
“You watch Christmas movies? You?”
“Can’t I watch Christmas movies? And you’d better not say because I’m a man.” I smirk, my eyes narrowing on her.
She shakes her head. “Just never met a man like you who likes Christmas movies.”
