Page 4 of Naughty Nicky

I nod at him, not sure what fantasy this is of mine coming to life. But I am not going to let myself think twice about it.

“You can bring the cookies too.”

I feel my cheeks flame at that. Knowing that I am completely covered in macarons right now.

I grab the other box of cookies and open my door just as Nick moves out of the way.

I didn’t realize how much more it snowed and curse myself for wearing flip-flops again.

Nick looks down at my feet as I drop into the nearly six inches of snow.

“Flip-flops? Didn’t you know a storm was coming?”

I don’t even have time to answer him before I am suddenly being lifted from my feet and carried bridal style to the truck parked on the road beside me.

2

NICK

Never did I think I would find my best friend’s sister stranded on the side of the road on the way back to my house today. Hell, I didn’t even know she was back in town. Last I heard from Wesley was that she was traveling the world with some douchebag she was head over heels in love with.

I’m surprised I even recognized her. Honestly, the FJ is what gave it away. It used to be Wesley’s car back in high school, and I wouldn’t forget all the snowboarding stickers we stuck all over the back of it to his parents’ discontent. I only know it got passed down to Penelope because I was with Wesley when he got his first brand new car after getting his first check for winning a snowboarding competition. He actually offered to buy his sister a new one for her sixteenth birthday, but she really wanted the FJ. And I don’t blame her. I loved that car as much as she does.

I set Pen down in front of the passenger door to my truck and shake my head again when I look down at her feet. Who the hell wears flip-flops in the middle of a snowstorm?

“You don’t have to do this,” she tells me.

I open the door for her and nod my head toward the seat. “I’m not leaving you out here in the middle of this storm.”

“It will blow over soon,” she argues.

I raise a brow at her. “You really don’t pay attention to the weather forecast at all, do you?”

She purses her lips and glares at me but doesn’t answer.

“They say we are going to get up to six feet, brainiac. You can’t wait in your car through that.”

“Some people could survive it.”

I shake my head at her. “Not people who wear flip-flops in a snowstorm. Now get in,” I grumble at her.

She doesn’t fight me anymore and reluctantly climbs into my truck. I can’t help but look at her ass when she does it either.

Because Penelope James is not the little brat who I remember from back when I was in high school when she was just in middle school. Hell, the last time I saw her was when I was home for Christmas break six years ago and had dinner at the James’s house. She was a teenager then. Sixteen years old and as much of a brat as she seems to be now. But she hadn’t grown into her features yet. Not like she has done now.

Not that I should be noticing. But it’s hard not to. Her big green eyes used to be too big for her round face but now they seem to fit perfectly giving her a seductive and alluring look. Her light brown hair that she always wore in a ponytail back in the day is now in soft layers framing her face. And her lips look kissable. I didn’t miss that when she was pursing them at me and giving me attitude. If she was anyone but Wesley James’s sister, I would have smacked that ass and that attitude right out of her and then devoured those pouty lips.

But this is my best friend’s sister. She always has and always will be off limits. But knowing Wes, he would kill me if I didn’t offer her any help right now so that is exactly what I am doing. Being the nice guy for once and not the asshole that most people know me as.

I never wanted to be the asshole either. It just kind of happened with the way I grew up. My mom left when I was only three, and Dad was a tough guy. He always expected a lot from me and my brothers growing up. He wanted us to be men from the day Mom left. For my older brothers it was a little easier, they were ten and thirteen, but I was three. I didn’t even know what it meant when she left. I spent countless hours looking out the window waiting for her to come home for years, but she never did. And that only made Dad push me harder.

I blink away the memories of my youth. I hate going down memory lane. Just as much as I hate being back in Ouray. But because of the man I am, I chose to come back here and know I will leave the first chance I get.

I turn the heat up once I climb back into the truck. I glance over at Pen, and she has her feet propped up on the dashboard near the heaters. I snort at that. Still have no idea what she was thinking about wearing flip-flops in the middle of winter much less a storm.

The drive to my cabin is quiet, and I relish in it. I never was an outgoing person, preferring to keep to myself and only letting my closest friends in. So, I don’t mind the lack of conversation as I drive the two of us to my cabin just down the road.

When I turn into my driveway, I glance over at Pen and see her jaw drop.

---