Page 47 of Stormswept Colorado

“Wait, let me grab my phone. If I record this, I could sell it to a tabloid for a million dollars at least.”

“Teller!”

“Okay, okay. Let’s get this taken care of before there’s an incident.”

First, I ventured back out into the storm to get the collapsible shovel from the trunk. Snapping the handle straight, I did my best to shovel a narrow path away from Ayla’s side of the SUV. Wasnoteasy because of the slope of the embankment. But after a couple of yards, I dug out a little cave-like space in the snow. Like a makeshift restroom stall, giving her some privacy.

Heading back, I went to Ayla’s door, opened it, and held out my gloved hand. “It’s ready.”

“You’re going above and beyond.”

“It’s what I do.”

Her eyes were round, stuck between the urge to laugh and sheer embarrassment. It was a cuter expression than you’d think.

The space blanket tried to blow away in the wind as she gotout. I stuffed it back inside the cabin and shoved the door closed. Ayla had to press up against me to go past. “Careful,” I said. “It’s awkward because of the slope.”

“Not the only reason it’s awkward.”

I hung back, keeping an eye on her on my periphery. The hood of Ayla’s coat edged along the path I’d made, then disappeared. “Okay?” I shouted over the wind.

“Yes!”

A minute or two later, she popped up again and made her way back toward me. Her creamy skin was bright pink, and I doubted it was just from the cold.

She was a few steps away when she slipped and, with a shout, vanished under a mound of snow.

“Shit!” I raced toward her.

By the time I had her upright again, she was completely caked with snow and was laughing so hard she hiccuped.

“Stay still. I’ll brush you off.” I swiped at her coat.

“I’m tempted to start a snowball fight, but it’s too c-cold for that.” Ayla’s giggles turned into a screech. “Oh! Oh, it’s inside my shirt! Teller, help!”

Then the wind picked up again and lashed us with sharp, icy flakes. I opened the door to the backseat. “Climb in. This’ll be faster.” I grabbed her hips and half lifted her to help her get in.

We both stripped off our damp coats and gloves and grabbed the space blankets from the front, huddling together. The SUV was still tilted at a slight angle, which meant the seat wasn’t flat, but I braced my feet against the floor to keep us steady.

I had a package of wet wipes tucked into the pocket behind the front seat, and Ayla grabbed one, wiping off her hands. She shivered. “Please never,evermention this again.”

Laughter broke free from my chest like something I’d been holding for too long. She snickered, which escalated until the point of no return.

We were helpless. Shaking. Clutching each other. Tears coated her eyelashes.

I managed to take a breath. “I think my favorite part was the snow down your shirt.”

Her mouth opened, eyes narrowing dangerously. Then she lunged, pushing her hands beneath the collar of my uniform. “Let’s see how you like it.”

“Hell, woman. Don’t you have circulation in your fingers?” I tugged her hands down into my lap and rubbed them between my palms. “I’ll warm you up.”

She went quiet, the only sound her heavy exhales as she caught her breath. Her eyes were the soft color of moss, flicking between our tangled hands and my face.

It finally dawned on me how close we were. How her small body pressed against my side, still shivering, and tiny droplets of moisture dotted her hair and skin. Her pink lips looked unbelievably soft and full.

Hot, heady desire pumped into my veins.

Somehow, I had to stay strong. No making moves on the same woman I arrested just yesterday. That had to be in the department handbook somewhere, right?

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