Page 2 of Snowed in with a Grinch

Before I can figure it out, my tires hit a patch of black ice. The car jerks and swerves, my heart pounding as I struggle to keep control.

“No, no, no!”

The spinning starts, and all I can do is hold on for dear life as I careen out of control.

“Arghhhhhh!”

The world becomes a white blur as my beloved Beetle does its best impression of the Gravitron. My stomach lurches as the car spins, and time seems to slow down. I catch disorienting glimpses of trees, the endless curtain of snow, and more trees.

There's a moment of eerie stillness where I think I've regained control. Relief floods through me as I hit the gas.

“Yes! I’m going forward again!”

But then comes the horrible sound—wood splintering, metal crunching, and a whole bunch of curses escaping my lips as I realize I’ve plowed headfirst through a wooden fence. The seatbelt catches me hard as I'm thrown forward, knocking the air from my lungs just as the airbag explodes into my face with a soft whoosh.

The taste of chalk fills my mouth—airbag dust. My ears ring in the sudden silence, broken only by the soft tick-tick-tick of my cooling engine and the muffled howl of wind outside. Coughing and trying to clear the air of powdery debris, I blink through the haze, my heart still thundering against my ribs.

“Um...Ow.” I push the deflating airbag away, wincing at the dull throb across my chest where the seatbelt caught me. My hands shake as I check myself for injuries—arms OK, legs OK, just a little bruised and rattled. “Great job, Noelle,” I mutter to myself, rubbing the bridge of my nose where the airbag made contact. “This is exactly how I wanted to spend my Christmas Eve—stranded in the middle of nowhere. I'll probably freeze to death and when they find me, I'll look like a snow globe gone wrong. Mom would kill me if I wasn't already dead.”

The reality of my situation sinks in as the adrenaline fades. I'm alone, in a blizzard, with no cell service, and I've just destroyed someone's property. Through my windshield, nowcracked in a delicate spider web pattern, I can see fence posts jutting from my hood like some kind of demented art installation. Rudolph's red nose still glows defiantly through it all.

“Oh, Rudolph, you really didn’t do such a great job at guiding this sleigh toward Christmas.”

It’s then that I see a light. Well, at least IthinkI do. Rubbing at my frosted over window, I look a little closer. And yes. Yes! There’s a light! It's coming from what looks like a modern cabin, all clean lines and huge windows. On any other day, I'd probably appreciate the architecture. Right now, I'm just praying whoever lives there is in a helping mood, and not a murdering one since I’ve just destroyed their fence.

The front door opens, and a massive figure steps out onto the porch. Even from here, I can tell it's a man, and a big one at that. He trudges through the snow toward my car, and my heart does a little skip. Either from fear or... something else entirely.

As he gets closer, I get a better look at him. Broad shoulders stretch his winter coat to its limits. Strong jaw dark from his thick beard. And the most intense eyes I've ever seen, currently narrowed in what appears to be extreme annoyance. He moves like someone who gets shit done, with purposeful strides that eat up the distance between us despite the deep snow.

Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy oh boy.

I roll down my window, pasting on my best 'please don't kill me' smile. “Hi there! Um, would you believe I was just dropping by to, uh, sing you some carols? Fa-la-la-la-la-la!” My voice wavers, but I keep the smile plastered on my face, even as my heart threatens to jump right out of my mouth.

The mountain man does not look amused. In fact, he looks like I just ran over his prize petunias. Although in this snow, I doubt there are any petunias to be found. His gaze sweeps over me, and despite the frigid temperature, heat floods my cheeks.There's something almost predatory in the way he's studying me, like he can't decide if I'm prey or just a particularly annoying intrusion into his solitude.

“You destroyed my fence,” he growls. Actually growls. Like a bear. A very attractive, very angry bear. His voice is deep and rough, like he doesn't use it much, and it does things to my insides that have nothing to do with fear.

“I am so sorry,” I say, trying to maintain my naturally sunny disposition in the face of his thundercloud expression. Up close, I can see flecks of gold in his green eyes, and a small scar above his right eyebrow that only adds to his rugged appeal. “I hit some ice and?—”

“Get out of the car before you freeze to death.” He yanks my door open with enough force to make me squeak. His scent hits me—pine and something earthy, distinctly male. “Though that might be preferable to what this storm's about to do to us.”

Us?

As if to emphasize his point, another gust of wind whips past, so strong it nearly knocks me over as I climb out. His hand shoots out to steady me, huge and warm against my waist. The touch sends electricity zipping through my body, and our eyes meet. For a moment, the cold doesn't seem so bitter. Something flashes across his face—surprise, maybe, or recognition of the same spark I'm feeling.

Then he scowls and steps back, though I notice his hand lingers a fraction longer than necessary. “Well? Are you coming inside, or would you rather become a Christmas popsicle?”

I glance at my car and its impressive collection of fence posts as hood ornaments. “What about my things? I have presents in there, and decorations, and?—”

“We'll get them later. Right now, we need to get inside before this storm really hits.”

As if on cue, the wind picks up again, and the snow falls even harder. Mr. Mountain Man sighs like I'm the most inconvenient thing that's ever happened to him, then grabs my hand and starts pulling me toward his cabin.

SAWYER

Islam the door against the howling wind, watching as my unexpected guest stumbles into the warmth of my cabin, shivering and covered in snow. The sight of her in my space does something strange to my chest.

In the proper light, I can see her more clearly, and my mouth goes dry. She's gorgeous—all lush curves and rosy cheeks, dark hair dusted with melting snowflakes. When she unzips the front of her coat, the red and white polka dot dress she’s wearing hugs every sweet curve of her delicious body. I’m instantly hard. Gawking at her as she struggles to get her arms out of the downy winter coat. My hands itch to help her.

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