Page 5 of Whiteout

What the fuck was that? Startled, her eyes flew open. She didn’t remember closing them.

“Hey, you in there?” The man’s voice sounded muffled.

Thump, thump, thump.

A gloved fist pounded on the window.

“Yes, yes, I’m in here,” Breanna screamed as loudly as she could.

Another scrape and the passenger door opened.

A scarf covered his face, but she recognized the coat. Suede lined with sheepskin.

He folded his large frame into the seat beside her, closing the door to the fury outside. Eyes, the color of whiskey, seared into her own, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. “Just had to go and slide into the mountain, now didn’t you?”

“Better than sliding off it, I guess.”

“Heh.” His teeth rolled over his lip. “Yeah, I reckon so.”

Whiskey eyes slowly scanned her from across the center console of his big-ass, he-man truck. Snow stuck to his brows. It melted from his lashes. Without taking his gaze off her face, the man removed his gloves, holding large hands in front of the warm air coming out of the vents.

Despite it, Breanna still shivered. Her breath sawed in and out, chest heaving with exertion from lugging her duffel bag on her shoulder a mere ten feet against the blinding winter storm that pummeled them. She’d held onto her savior, gripping the belt loop of his jeans, until they reached the truck door, and he lifted her off her feet, slinging her inside.

Teeth chattering, Breanna asked him, “What about my car?”

“What about it?” Swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, he lowered his hands to his thighs.

“I can’t just leave it like that.”

“Well, it’s not going anywhere.” With a shake of his head, he snickered, releasing the parking brake. “There’s a garage down in the village. You can call when you get to Dalton House. They’re used to towing girly cars off the mountain.”

Rolling her eyes, she abruptly angled her head. “Wait, how’d you know that’s where I was going?”

“Lucky guess, Miss Dalton.” He winked. “Overheard you and Hank.”

“Oh.” She pursed her lips to one side. “I don’t even know your name.”

Except for the fact he was hella gorgeous, and he thought little of her car, Breanna didn’t know one damn thing about this man. She could just hear Kayleigh in her head.

Stranger danger, girl! He could be a serial killer or something.

Maybe. But at the moment, he was her only salvation. It’s not like she had any other choice.

“Sinjin.”

She coughed, choking down a fit of giggles that threatened to burst from her throat. “Sinjin? What the hell kind of name is that?”

“Old English.” The corner of his mouth ticked up. “It’s a family name.”

“Oh.” Breanna pressed her lips together.

Stepping on the clutch, Sinjin put the truck in gear. “Let’s go. Storm’s only going to get worse.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, tugging at the cuff of her jacket. Looking through the windshield, there was nothing to see but swirling white. “Think we’ll make it okay?”

With a click of his tongue, he winked. “Sure as hell gonna try.”

“Try?” Feigning a smile, Breanna expelled the air from her lungs. “Well, that’s reassuring.”

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