Savannah lets out a soft snort. “That’s one way to put it. Clay and I could have started salsa dancing naked on the table and I don’t think either of you would have noticed.”
Before I can respond, Brewer strides toward us, jaw set as he reaches for the door. We say our goodbyes to Clay and Savannah, then suddenly, we’re outside in the whirling blizzard, the cabin door snapping shut behind us.
I follow Brewer toward Clay’s massive truck, gritting my teeth against the frozen wind. It’s so dark out here; everything is just inky black shapes until Brewer opens the passenger-side door and the interior light flickers on. He turns to face me, a giant shadow backlit by the glow of the truck light. I see his mouth move, but the wind is too loud for me to hear what he’s saying. Then suddenly he reaches for me, hands gripping my hips firmly as he lifts me with easy strength onto the passenger seat. My skin heats beneath my sweater, tingling at his touch even after he lets go and closes the door.
I liked that way too much.
Clay’s truck might be stupidly big, but Brewer still manages to fill the whole space as he slides into the driver’s seat. He hasto push it back all the way for his legs to fit, then he turns on the engine and the truck growls to life.
We set off through the woods, snow churning in the headlights. The trees shake violently all around us, like they’re trying to tear themselves from the ground. Even in the truck, the wind is so loud that I’m almost shouting when I say, “Thanks for letting me stay at your place.”
Brewer’s deep voice cuts easily through the noise. “No way I was gonna let you drive down the mountain in this.”
There’s a protective edge to his tone—a forcefulness that makes me melt like butter. It reminds me of how he sounded this morning, standing over those tourists with fire in his eyes.
“My cabin’s not far,” he adds. “Five minutes through the woods.”
Something tightens in my chest.
Five minutes.
In five minutes, I’ll be alone with Brewer Benson, trapped by a storm with nowhere to run. No diner counter between us. No Savannah to fill the silence. Just me and the giant lumberjack who’s been driving me crazy for weeks.
I don’t know whether to be excited or terrified.
7
BREWER
I knowI shouldn’t have been so damn eager when Savannah suggested I take Josie back to my place. A better man would’ve refused. Hesitated, at least. But I couldn’t resist. Couldn’t even pretend like I wasn’t champing at the bit to have her in my home.
Now this curvy angel is sitting beside me in my brother’s truck, fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater like she’s not sure what to do with her hands. Despite the woodsy smell in here, I can still catch Josie’s syrupy-sweet scent as I drive through the snowy forest toward my cabin. We don’t speak. The howling wind outside is the only sound between us, and the silence feels charged as hell after our conversation at dinner.
There’s this one guy…he never even looks at me…
My hands tighten on the steering wheel, heart thumping as my cabin comes into view, barely visible through the swirling snow. I pull up outside and slide out of the truck, opening the door for Josie to get out. It’s a long way down for her, and I reach for her waist, sucking in a breath when she grips my shoulders tight. My hands linger once I’ve helped her to the ground. I don’t want to let go, but the icy wind is biting at our exposed skin, making Josie shiver.
I guide her up the porch steps, opening the cabin door and following her inside. The storm turns muffled once I close the door behind us, the sudden quiet making my ears ring. It’s cold in here. I can hear the chatter of Josie’s teeth from beside me, and I make a beeline for the fireplace, striking a match and stirring the kindling.
“Come here,” I tell her once the fire is roaring. “Get yourself warmed up.”
“Thanks, Brewer.”
My pulse jumps at the sound of her sweet voice behind me. I never thought I’d hear it in my cabin. Hell, it’s hard to believe she’s really here as I straighten up from the fire and move aside, watching her approach. She holds her hands out to the dancing flames, snowflakes melting in her hair.
“This place is gorgeous,” she says, turning her head this way and that to take in the living room.
“Thanks. Can’t take all the credit. Clay helped build it.”
My cabin isn’t huge, but it’s homey, with thick rugs and brown leather furniture. When it’s light out, the windows look right over Sugar Creek, snaking through the trees like a glittering ribbon of silver. It’s completely secluded, hidden away from the world, and usually, that’s just how I like it.
But it’s different with Josie here.
She’s so fucking beautiful that I swear it makes the whole room brighter—lit up by her presence. It’s intoxicating. I feel like a moth drawn to the flame, desperate to be close to her, to pull those thick curves against my body until there’s nothing between us.
Goddammit, Brewer.
Control yourself.
