“And also in a ditch! Want to point out anything else wildly obvious, you big—bear?”
His eyebrow rises. Slowly. Dangerously. “Max, was it?”
I nod like a schoolgirl.
“I was on my way home. Peaceful, uneventful, stress-free. But now I’m here, trying to do the right thing. So I’m going to be calm, take a deep breath, and help youranxious little assbefore I get home and regret ever stopping.” He leans in slightly. “I’m going to ask again. And I want aone-word answer.Got it?”
I nod.
“Do you need help? A phone? A ride?”
Suddenly, it hits me. This is it. The moment. The meet-cute. My real-life romance novel is happening! And this man? This brooding, black-clad mountain of a man?
He’s The Bear. Sent from the heavens.Possibly hell,but with the size of him? I’ll take either.
I look at my big, brooding bear of a hero and suddenly everything makes sense.
Thisis why God gave my ex a tiny penis.
He was protecting me. Preserving the goods. Saving my vagina forhim.
The Bear.
I open the door and immediately regret my desire to becutefor my first day at the conference.
The air is freezing, slicing straight through my sweater dress as I step out of the rental. My suede boots, a poor choice, I admit, sink into the treacherous, slushy concoction of snow and mud. It looks innocent enough, but it feels like the earth is actively working against me.
It's entirely my fault, of course. Why on earth would I choose knee-high suede boots over something more practical, more intelligent? I sometimes do the smart thing, but other times, I'm capable of truly ridiculous decisions.
I tug my flimsy coat tighter around myself, realizing I severely underestimated the weather and cold here. I’m a tough girl. I can handle all sorts of discomforts. But this cold is something Atlanta would never dare do to me. I smooth down my dress like I’m meeting royalty instead of a man who looks like he wrestles wildlife recreationally.
I take one step.
Then another.
Then.
“Oh—shi—”
My foot skids out from under me and I windmill my arms like I have any other choice but to hit the ground. I do not. I land hard on my ass with a very undignifiedoof,the cold seeping straight through my coat into my pride.
Wonderful.
I groan, trying to scramble to my feet, nearly slipping again before I find my footing.
Somewhere behind me, I hear snow crunching.
I look up and realize he’s watching the entire thing.
Judging me.
The beautiful man takes a small step back, hands in his pockets, giving me space.
A car passes by without even slowing down, catching both of our attention.
He turns back to me, catching me staring at him like I’m ready to put him towork.
I lick my bottom lip. Then I say it—the line I just told Timantha I would use if I ever ended up in a small town romance. Except it comes out all wrong. “I may be small, but I’ve got a big ride for little boys!”
