I was about to ask—again—if it was safe to drive in these conditions when flashing orange lights caught my attention in the distance.
“Damn,” he growled, that hard edge returning to his voice. “I thought we would make it.”
I clutched the armrest of the seat, peering nervously through the windshield. “Please tell me that you meant ‘make it before dark’ and not ‘make it there alive.’”
Rhett took one hand off the wheel and briefly rubbed the top of my hand. For some reason, it actually did reduce my anxiety, even though he really should have two hands on the wheel.
He pumped the brakes, his arm flying out to brace me as the back of his SUV fishtailed. I held my breath while the car seemed to slip and slide forever, skidding to a stop where a series of orange cones blocked our path. Beyond them, the road was a mass of swirling white, the surface invisible.
The flashing lights were on top of a digital sign that said, “ROAD CLOSURE. WEATHER ALERT.”
I clicked the radio on, fiddling with it to find the station listed on the sign.
“Don’t bother,” Rhett clicked it off again. “We’re stuck either way. We’ll have to turn back.”
“Back to Fairbanks?”
“There was a motel ten miles back or so. We can hole up there until the snow passes.”
“What if it doesn’t pass before tomorrow? What if we miss the party? What if the storm makes the power go out and we freeze to death?”
He smiled indulgently at me, touching my hand for a second time and letting his thumb linger.
“This is Alaska. They’re expecting this weather. No one is going to lose power because of a little snow.”
A little snow? It must’ve dumped a whole foot of fluffy white stuff since we left the airport.
I was trembling in my seat by the time we pulled into the motel parking lot. A dozen other cars were idling in the lot, their lights piercing through the dark and highlighting the whirls of flakes as they danced in the wind.
It was beautiful, even if I was terrified. I’d never seen more than a few inches of snow, and it never stuck around long enough to enjoy it.
Rhett parked as cleanly as he could with no visible lines, shutting off the car and motioning for me to get out.
“Now we just have to hope there are still rooms.”
A line of grumpy people stood at the front desk, waiting impatiently for the ancient woman running the place to fill out her paper guest book. There was no computer in sight, and the coffeemaker sitting in the corner of the lobby looked like it was from the 80s.
Actually, everything looked like it was from the 80s, right down to the worn carpet. At least it was clean, and it didn’t smelllike cat piss. That was the gold standard for motels, as far as I was concerned.
I got a few odd looks as I shuffled around in my oversized coat, busying my hands by making two cups of steaming coffee. It was dinnertime, and this was definitely not decaf, but I needed a warm drink to settle my nerves.
Rhett glanced over his shoulder repeatedly, standing a decent distance from the rest of the people in line as he waited to ask about two rooms. I waved to him, my sleeve flopping back and forth, and he gave me a half-smile.
Damn, that man had such a disarming smile. There was an edge to his haircut that was almost military, but the loose, dark strands on top softened it. His eyes were hard as he stared down the curious people standing in front of him, who were probably as taken aback by his unusual stature as much as I was, but I knew when he wanted to, he had this good mannered small town charm that could probably get him a free room.
As long as no one noticed he was a shifter.
I was starting to feel more offended about that. What did a guy like Rhett do to deserve that kind of discrimination, other than make scary werewolf eyes when he was feeling horny?
I snorted to myself, getting another weird look from a put-out woman who was sitting in a lime green chair and tapping furiously on her phone.
That reminds me…
I tugged my own phone out of my pocket to see several missed calls and a slew of text messages from my sister. The first was a general check of my well-being. By the sixth, she was becoming unhinged.
Victoria: Did you catch your flight?
Victoria: I’m going to take your lack of response as a “yes.”
