That gets her attention. “Could be bad?”
I glance at her. “Storms move fast up here. Roads get slick.”
She goes quiet for a second, then nods. “Good thing I’m with a rugged mountain man, then.”
A laugh almost gets out of me.
Almost.
“You keep saying things like that.”
“Like what?”
“Rugged mountain man.”
She turns in her seat, smile growing. “You say that like I’m wrong.”
“You are.”
“You throw axes for fun.”
“It wasn’t fun.”
She snorts. “Right. Of course. You only effortlessly hit the bullseye in front of half the town out of civic duty.”
I shake my head.
She’s still smiling when lightning flashes far off through the trees.
A second later thunder rolls over the mountain.
Her smile fades.
I look at the road again. Snow’s starting to mix in now, wet and thick.
Damn it.
By the time I pull up outside her cabin, the storm’s come in mean and fast. Wind pushes through the trees hard enough to make them groan. Snow spits sideways under the porch light.
I kill the engine and look out at it.
Then I look at her.
“You’re not staying alone if this gets worse.”
Her eyes go wide. “Weston.”
“I mean it.”
Something soft moves across her face. Not fear. Not exactly. Something warmer. Deeper.
“Okay,” she says quietly.
That one word lands hard.
I get out, circle the truck, and help her down. The second she’s on the ground, the wind cuts through us both, sharp as a blade. Lexie gasps and clutches at my jacket as we hurry to the porch.
She gets the door open with shaking fingers, and I follow her inside, shutting it hard against the storm.
