“Gable?” she mumbles against my lips, and I kiss down her throat.
“Hm?”
“I want Oreos.”
I move her onto her back, resting my hips between hers. “Oreos can wait.” I capture her mouth with mine and she moans—before wriggling from beneath me and out of bed. I growl and try to snatch her wrist, but she hops back, grinning. “Get your ass back in this bed.”
“Nope. If you won’t get me food, I’ll get it myself.”
She goes for the door.
“Gibson, you take one step into that hallway, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”
Ella clasps her hands behind her back, the picture of innocence. “That’s kind of the point.” And then she takes off running.
This fucking woman.
She’s so quick that I only catch up to her at the bottomof the stairs. I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her up.
She cackles. “Unhand me!”
I place her on her feet, my shoulders shaking with laughter, and fuck … last time I laughed like this was with Asher. Last time I felt anything other than total fucking misery was with Asher.
Ella turns in my arms and kisses me. “Feed me Oreos, Gable Flynn.”
“I’m fucking you first.”
A knock on the door has us both freezing.
Beyond the windows around the doorframe, heavy snow falls, blurring the person waiting. Another knock sounds, and Ella leans into me.
“Go into the kitchen.”
She scowls. “What if you need backup?”
“Ella, go.”
With a sigh and an eye roll, she leaves, heading toward the kitchen. I open the door, and I’m confronted with a stranger. He’s bundled up in a snow-sprinkled coat, is about the same height as Ella, and has a knitted hat pulled over his head. He’s close to fifty and breathes out a hefty sigh when he sees me.
“Thank God. I’m so sorry to knock so late, but my car broke down, and my phone died.”
My gaze flicks behind him, searching for others, but the land beyond it is empty. “And that’s my problem how?”
He blinks, then forces a bashful smile. “Could I use your phone to call someone? My wife and kid are in the car.”
Movement in the corner of my eye has me glancing to my left—to a panicked looking Ella. She’s holding up three fingers, and gestures at the back of the cabin.
Fuck.
I seize the stranger’s coat and tug him inside before throwing him against the wall and pressing my forearm to his throat. His eyes blow wide, and he grips my arm.
“What the hell are you doing!”
“How many of you are there?”
Spittle gathers at the corner of his mouth. “What? There’s just me, my wife and kid!”
I slam him into the wall. “Bull.” And again. “Shit. Tell me now, or I hurt you.”
