Page 5 of Snowed in with the Mountain Man

"About a mile. Road, or mud trail, really, gets rough from here."

Her phone pings with a message, surprising us both. She checks it. "Last gasp of service, I guess. My friend Priya thinks I'm crazy for coming here."

"She might be right."

That earns me a sharp look. "I'm not afraid of a little snow."

"Should be," I mutter, but she hears me.

"Look, I know I'm a city girl, but I'm not helpless. I can learn."

The determination in her voice catches me off guard. Maybe there's more to Phoebe Hartley than I thought.

A sudden gust of wind rocks the truck. The snow thickens, becoming a white wall before us. I slow even further, straining to see the road.

Then it happens. A patch of black ice, invisible beneath the fresh snow. The truck slides sideways, tires finding no purchase. I counter-steer, but momentum carries us toward the ditch.

"Hold on!" I bark, throwing my arm instinctively across her chest as we slide off the road. The truck tilts, then settles with a bone-jarring thud.

When I look over, my arm is still pressed against her. Her heart hammers beneath my forearm. Our faces are inches apart, her eyes wide with fear and something else—something that makes my breath catch.

"You okay?" I manage, my voice rough.

She nods, not moving away from my touch. "What now?"

I force myself to pull back, to assess our situation professionally. The truck's front wheel is buried in snow, tilted at an angle that means we're not driving out.

"We walk," I say, reaching behind the seat for my emergency pack. "Your cabin's about half a mile from here."

"Walk? In this?" She gestures at the whiteout conditions outside.

"Only getting worse." I pull out two headlamps. "Put on everything warm you have. We move now or we don't move at all."

She swallows hard, then nods. I watch as she layers a sweater under her raincoat, pulls a knit hat from her bag.

Not enough. Not nearly enough.

I shrug out of my heavy flannel jacket and hold it out to her.

"I can't take your coat," she protests.

"Not a debate." I'm already pulling on my waterproof shell from behind the seat. "Layer up. Now."

To my surprise, she doesn't argue further. Just slips into my jacket, the sleeves hanging well past her fingertips. Something primal stirs in me at the sight of her wrapped in my clothing.

Focus, Calloway.Getting her safely to shelter is all that matters. Whatever this impossible attraction is, it doesn't change the facts. She's young. She's temporary. And men like me don't get chances with women like her.

But as we prepare to step into the storm, I can't help wondering what it would be like if we did.

three

Phoebe

Theworldhasdisappeared.

Nothing but white—above, below, all around. Snow stings my face like tiny needles, each gust driving it deeper into my skin. I can barely see Aiden's broad back three feet in front of me.

"Keep moving!" he shouts, voice nearly lost in the howling wind.

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