Page 48 of Heartbreaker

It’s long-sleeved, but clearly not doing much to protect her from the elements or the storm coming in.

Her eyes drift to mine, and she studies me for several long moments before quietly asking, “Why did you come find me?”

She’s trembling so hard, even with my jacket, that I grind my teeth together and clench my hands into fists—the good one anyway, the useless, fucked-up one only creates a loose approximation of something that resembles a fist. I shove that thought away, resist the urge to draw her close, to wrap my arms around her, to rub my hands up and down her back, warming her so she stops shivering.

“You were gone a while,” I say, tilting my head down the path. “I was worried.”

“I was fine.”

“I know,” I tell her as we start walking, wondering how often she reassures the people around her that she’s fine…

And how often she really isn’t.

Focus.

“But I need to talk to you about the storm that’s coming in.” I point up at the gray sky, the dark, almost black clouds creeping along the horizon in the distance. “Everyone’s saying it’s supposed to be a bad one”—I glance down at her—“so much so that roads might be closed.”

Her brows lift. “But don’t they have plows and stuff?”

I nod. “They do. But Dave—the owner of the resort,” I explain when confusion drifts across her fact, “says they might take a couple of days to clear everything enough for us to be out of here.”

She’s quiet for a moment then shrugs. “Well, that’s fine. We’re planning on holing up and writing music, not sightseeing.”

“True.” I glance down at her. “Full disclosure?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Dave told me that each cabin has a generator, so we’ll have power if it goes out. And there’s plenty of firewood, so we’ll have heat.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

I nod in agreement. “We also have food because the chef dropped it off…” And here’s the part that might have her calling her driver back so she can get the fuck out of here. “Right before he told me he won’t be back during our stay because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to safely make it back until the storm passes and the road’s clear.”

“Having food also isn’t a bad thing,” she says as we round the corner and the cabin comes into sight, her brows furrowing into a vee I’m suddenly desperate to kiss.

“You’d think so,” I say dryly as we approach the front door. “But that’s before you’ve had my cooking.”

Her mouth quirks.

“So,” I say before she can reply, “if you want to abandon this weekend and try for another time so you’re not stuck here with me, I wouldn’t blame you.”

She pauses with her hand on the knob then glances up at me. “Something like this isn’t easy to reschedule.”

“No, it isn’t.” I nudge her out of the way and open the door, shepherding her inside. “But I know your schedule’s packed and if there’s a chance that we won’t get out of here on time because of the storm…”

She pauses in the hall, fingers fiddling with the buttons on my coat. “Then we’d have time to write even more music.”

But the words are lacking confidence.

And I know that’s because of me.

“About before…”

She stops fiddling.

“I shouldn’t have done that—” Storm cloud gray eyes fly to mine and my heart skips a beat, knowing that I’m going to write some lyrics about her gorgeous eyes—hell, maybe I’ll pen an entire song or album or a fucking Iliad-length epic poem about them. Just…not right now. “I promised you this would just be work,” I say, “and I broke that promise.”

She sucks in a breath.

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