Maddie
Douche bag. He was definitely a douche bag. But not a psychopath—an important distinction. I could always tell about people. And anyway, he was kind of right. Stranded in the middle of nowhere, ice and snow blanketing the high country, I had little in the way of an escape route.
Didn’t mean I had to make it easy on him, though. Not after the rude way he’d treated me.
I jerked away from his grip. “What do you want?”
The guy shrugged out of his wool-lined flannel coat and held it out for me, but I didn’t budge.
“Humor me,” he said, tossing it at me as he stomped past.
“Whatever.” Secretly grateful, I slipped my arms into the huge sleeves and zipped up. He’d only worn it for a few minutes, but the heat lingered, wrapping me in a full-bodied hug.
And holyhell, the scent of him. So. Freaking. Amazing. It was like evergreens and cinnamon and soap and the great outdoors and just…him.Male. Hot. Filling my senses and making my insides swirl.
I wonder what he smells like up close, like right around that sexy spot where his jaw meets his ear…
“You got a name, Cupcake?” the guy called out. He was already halfway down the driveway and hadn’t even turned around to see if I was following.
What a jerk!
A super sexy, good-smelling jerk!
“Madison Lockwood,” I said, scrambling to catch up. At least this time I could follow in his footsteps and avoid some of the snow. “Most people call me Maddie. Except my mom, who insists on calling me Mash, which she’s done since I was three and couldn’t pronounce my own name. Um… where are we going?”
“To see what we can do about your piece of shit car blocking the end of my driveway.”
“It’s not mine. It’s a rental. And why do you care about the driveway? I thought you weren’t expecting company?”
He turned to shoot me a glare over his shoulder.
“Right,” I mumbled. “Allergic to sarcasm. Got it.”
At the end of the driveway, the snowdrifts had gotten so high they now made a cozy alcove that blocked the wind. The blizzard was harsh, but the snow was beautiful—big, soft flakes piling up everywhere.
“We should totally make a snowman,” I said, handing over the car keys. “This is the perfect snow for it.”
“Knock yourself out.” He grabbed my sleeve and tugged me out of the way, kicking chunks of ice and snow off the car. Once he had enough room, he wedged open the driver’s side door and crammed himself into the seat, banging his knees on the steering wheel in the process.
“You might want to adjust the—”
“Got it.” Cursing under his breath, he shoved the seat back and looked around the interior, surprised. “I didn’t know they rented manual transmission cars anymore.”
“I had to book it special,” I said. “And they gouged me on the price. But it’s the only way I’ll drive these mountain roads, even in the summer. I like the control.”
He held my gaze a moment, and I could’ve sworn I saw the hint of a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, but then it was gone, straight back to business.
The business of getting me out of here.
“Well, let’s see what she’s got.” He jammed the key into the ignition, stepped on the brake and the clutch, and gave the engine a crank.
The car sounded like it was dying a slow death.
“That’s the grrr-chunky noise I told you about,” I added helpfully.
“So I gathered.” He tried to start it again in second gear, but the clutch just wouldn’t catch, and that noise was getting worse every time. He turned it off and shook his head.
“So what’s your name, tough guy?” I asked, stepping back again as he climbed out. “Wait, don’t tell me. Blade. No, Gunner. You definitely look like a Gunner.”
