Page 35 of Slay Ride

“I thought you were hurt!” I croak as I lower the sweater and drop to the floor. The adrenaline has worn off, and not even the alcohol can mask the weakness now.

Bennett releases the wood and an ax to the floor, then hurries over to the fire. “I saw your stupid head in the back door’s window. Figured you locked it, so I headed for the front.”

“I wouldn’t have left you out there for too long.”

“So you locked it, huh?”

“Maybe.”

He shakes his head and smiles. “I can’t blame you. I would have done the same thing. I even considered leaving you in that outhouse for a bit, but you found your way out.”

“Yeah, but you would have missed having someone to torment, so that’s why you came to my rescue.”

“How’d you know that?”

“Because I was thinking the same thing. Oh, shit, the honey.” I scoot forward and turn it. The crystals have dissolved, and thestiff liquid has taken on a more fluid consistency. “Fuck, this looks good enough to eat. Do you think it’s safe?”

“Honey has antibacterial properties, so you don’t have to worry about it spoiling. This jar will be safe to eat for years.” He picks it up and turns it in front of the fire. “I’d say this is almost ready to cook with.”

He places the jar on the hearth, and as he retreats to the stove again, I take a moment to watch him walk away. He’s still wearing nothing more than underwear, his boots, and that ridiculous headlamp, yet there’s something annoyingly sexy about him right now.

I look at the bottle of whiskey and take one more healthy swallow before swearing it off for the night. If I’m having thoughts like that about Bennett, I’m well on my way to oblivion.

Drawers fly open behind me, and a few curses spring from Bennett’s lips. “I want to know which genius forgot to order a can opener when they bought all this canned food.”

Another drawer opens, and he shuts up, so I can only assume he found what he needed. Moments later, more fucks and shits follow.

“Do you need my help?” I ask.

He scoffs. “The day I need your help is the day I need to forget how to breathe.”

I look at the bottle of whiskey and fight the urge to guzzle it. “I have an idea. Why don’t we try to get along for the rest of our time here? Kindra and Ezra are probably on their way with the cavalry as we speak, so it shouldn’t be more than a few hours.”

“About that . . .”

“Before you say whatever you’re about to say, should I take another shot to steel myself?”

“You might want the whole bottle. I sure do.”

Fuck this. He hasn’t even told me yet, and I already want to down what remains.

He dumps a frozen block of chicken meat into a pan, then joins me in front of the fireplace, where he wiggles his fingers for his turn with our new mediator, Jack Daniel’s.

After guzzling a hearty amount, he sighs. “I don’t have the key to the snowmobile at the lift.”

My stomach sinks, but it could be worse. “That won’t stop Kindra. She’ll take the sleigh to the shed at the start of the property and use one of the snowmobiles to get to us. I’m sure they have a spare key.”

“They might have a spare key for the snowmobiles, but they don’t have a spare key for the shed.” He pulls a jangling keyring from his pants pocket on the hearth, and I recognize it. It’s the same set of keys Kindra used on the day we arrived.

I grab the bottle from him and knock it back. I need it more than he does.

“They’ll probably come in the sleigh tomorrow morning,” he says, “so we just have to make it through tonight.”

“Why wouldn’t they come tonight? I have plans!”

Bennett looks at his watch. “If you want to kiss Maverick at midnight, you’d better start walking. It’s eleven forty-five.”

“Just my fucking luck.” I groan and drop my head into my hands. “Why did this have to happen tonight?”

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