Page 29 of The Bratva's Innocent Pregnant Bride
“Hey, I was only following the expert who went out despite the weather report,” I said.
She blanched and I turned away, hating seeing the recrimination back in her eyes. That was a low blow, but she brought out the fire in me, just like I always seemed to rile her up.
“I was trying to keep you from splattering yourself all over a tree on the way down,” she said, no longer as dedicated to the fight now that I’d hit her where it hurt.
I kept myself from replying, but made a big deal about rubbing my back. “I really bit the dust on that jump, didn’t I?”
She softened, seemed to get pissed off at herself all over again for beginning to smile, and began to let me have it some more for risking my life. “I was clearly calling for you to stop,” she said, her voice rising once more. “You’re damn lucky you didn’t crack your spine.”
I grinned. “Since when have I listened to you?”
“Exactly never.”
“So you shouldn’t be so surprised. Listen, things would be a lot more pleasant if we weren’t shouting at each other.”
Her eyes flew wide, taking it the wrong way and plopping down on one of the chairs near the makeshift kitchen counter, a dark scowl on her face as she pressed her lips together to keep from clapping back. She was still beautiful and I laughed.
“I only meant because it’s such a small space,” I said. “I can hear you just fine and believe me, I get how pissed you arewithout the racket. Now come back near the fire and let me help you get warm.”
She huffed, staying put. “You’re actually insufferable,” she said in a low, measured tone.
“Ive been called worse,” I said, getting up to look through the drawers for anything else that might be useful or make us more comfortable. “And I’ve seen way worse snow storms, too. We’ll be fine.”
She made a point to ignore me, scowling harder when I began to strip off my wet snow gear as the room warmed up. I had on thick thermal leggings underneath, as well as a performance sweater, and now that the fire was crackling away, it was only slightly drafty. There were a few packets of instant coffee and a kettle, so I put some water on top of the stove to boil.
“You’ll be warmer if you strip down,” I said. “I’m actually toasty right now.”
She knew I was right, because twin red blotches rose on her pale cheeks as she warred with being comfortable or staying bundled up in snow-drenched clothing. She finally tore everything off as if her coat and snow pants had committed a grave offense against her, and huddled on the chair in adorable red leggings that hugged her curvy thighs, and a polka dotted sweater.
“Don’t say a word,” she muttered.
I paid her back in kind and pretended I didn’t hear her, pulling some of the extra blankets from the bunks in the back room and wadding them up against the windowsills to keep out the drafts. There was a very basic bathroom with a sad showerhead over a concrete floor, but when the water finally flowed out, it was ice cold. Great, that wasn’t going to help put Paisley in a better mood.
With the water boiling, I made coffee, silently putting one of the tin cups from the drawer in front of her, then went back to rummaging.
What was I supposed to do with the woman I was obsessed with, trapped in a tiny shack together while she refused to speak to me or even acknowledge my presence? Unless of course it was to call me an idiot. Certainly not what I would have liked. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her take a sip of the coffee, her eyes closing as if it was the finest brew and not a stale instant packet made with rusty smelling sink water.
I wished I had my laptop so I could work on cross referencing those companies tied to the Collective. I had been putting it off long enough and now it seemed it would have to stay on the backburner. Well, I certainly wished for a lot of things at the moment that weren’t going to come true.
She muttered something under her breath about losing her snowboard and I perked up, but it wasn’t directed at me. So now I not only owed her a giant teddy bear for taking her out of the carolling contest, I was on the hook for a new snowboard too.
“I’ll get you a new one,” I said. “The best one available.” I didn’t want to amp up her wrath again, but the one she’d been using was pretty old and beat up.
She finally looked up at me, shaking her head. “That one was sentimental. From when I competed.”
“Oh. I’m sorry we had to leave it behind.” I honestly meant it and of course she’d have the best new board that existed. “I could have carried it.”
“No you couldn’t,” she said, staring down at her coffee. “Surviving was more important.”
“Wait, even my survival?”
“Even yours,” she said, not too begrudgingly.
“Don’t jump down my throat again, but that was a hell of a ride on that crazy trail. I mean, before our lives were in danger.”
Her eyes flared but she smiled. “Yeah, it was great. Besides nearly killing us both, you held your own there for a bit.”
What was this? She was not only speaking to me, but giving me the barest of compliments too? The coffee surely wasn’t that good. In the last drawer I found a dog-eared pack of cards and held them up. “Do you ever play? How about a friendly game of something? You pick.”
