Page 43 of The Mistletoe Bluff
Waiting it out was the best decision.
But that meant I was stuck in close quarters with Oliver for an untold number of hours. Andthatterrified me, especially since I wasn’t sure I hated him anymore.
“Fine,” I muttered, pulling the hood of my coat down over my face.
Oliver’s chuckle warmed my bones against the chill that was already settling in the car. I fished my phone out of my coat pocket intending to distract myself from the man next to me, but I didn’t have a signal.
Great. I can’t even pretend he’s not here.
His sweet pipe tobacco scent filled the Jeep. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to wait out the storm. If I was stuck in close proximity with him and that cologne, I was done for.
I could not be held accountable for my actions—whatever they may be.
I peeked at Oliver who stared at his own phone, brow furrowed.
“No signal,” I said, shutting off my phone to save the battery before chucking it into the cup holder.
Oliver opened his door, resulting in a burst of cold air and snow flying into the car.
“What the heck are you doing?” I cried, burrowing deeper into my coat, and he shut the door again.
Oliver just laughed. “I’m grabbing the stuff from the back, so Your Royal Highness doesn’t freeze to death.”
I scoffed. “Royal Highness?”
“Well, you’re acting like a spoiled princess so I might as well call you one.”
“Surely you can be more creative than that.”
“I could’ve gone with brat, but that felt a little mean.”
I gasped, searching the Jeep for something I could throw at him, but of course the car was spotless.
Oliver’s laugh had goosebumps raising on my arms. “I’m just teasing you, princess. I’ll be right back.”
I’d be lying if I said that him calling me princess didn’t have my stomach doing somersaults.
He slipped out of the car and opened the trunk, rummaging around for a few seconds. After he found whatever he was looking for, he got back into the car. But instead of getting back in the driver’s seat, Oliver crawled into the backseat.
“Um, what are you doing?” I asked.
Oliver handed me a thick blanket before pulling a big black bag into his lap. He fished out a bottle of water and some pretzels and offered them to me. I took them with shaking hands. “Thanks.”
He shrugged. “It never hurts to be prepared for anything. Those pretzels might be expired, but at least it’ll fill your belly.”
“Or empty it,” I muttered beneath my breath. “Why are you in the backseat?”
He stretched his arms out to either side, then propped his boots up onto the center console. “Lots more room back here. If I’m stuck in the Jeep for hours, might as well be comfortable.” Then, to my horror, he patted the seat next to him. “Plenty of room for two.”
I gave a violent shake of my head. “No way, Oliver.”
His lips twisted into a smirk. “What? Afraid I’ll bite?”
Yes, something like that. My lips, my neck…stop it, Maya!
My face must have betrayed my inner thoughts because he crossed his arms, his gaze burning with something that looked a lot like desire. But I was just imagining that, right?
“Don’t worry, Maya. I’ll keep my hands to myself unless you ask for otherwise. I’m simply offering you body heat. It’ll be cold in here soon. This is survival—nothing more.” His words made sense, but the look in his eyes made me think he wanted to addunless you want more.
