Page 20 of Frostbite & Mistletoe
Gabriel’s truck sped up the highway, north to Missoula.
Before they left, he’d checked the weather forecast on his phone. The next storm wasn’t supposed to hit until dinnertime. If everything went according to plan, they’d be back in Bearpaw Ridge by then.
Kymberlie sat in his passenger seat, her hair caught up in her usual ponytail, with a few golden strands escaping to frame her face. Her delicious fragrance, combined with the scents of fresh coffee and warm cinnamon rolls, filled the confined space of his truck cab.
“It’s your turn to pick the music,” Gabriel said, breaking the silence that had settled between them after they’d exhausted small talk about the weather and road conditions.
Kymberlie reached for his phone. He gave her his password, and she scrolled through his playlist.“Wow. You weren’t kidding about being a classic rock guy. Rolling Stones, AC/DC, Aerosmith…” She looked over at him with newfound interest.“I would’ve pegged you for a classical music snob.”
Gabriel smiled at her.“Sorry to disappoint.”
He wasn’t about to tell her he liked classical, but that kind of music was for relaxing at home, not road trips.
“Oh, I’m not disappointed,” she said, selecting a song. The opening chords of“Start Me Up” filled the truck.“Just surprised. You’re always so…” She gestured vaguely.
“Uptight?” he supplied. He heard that opinion of him a lot. It didn’t bother him anymore.
“I was going to say‘professional,’” she countered.
When the song ended, Gabriel nodded toward her phone, sitting on the dashboard in front of her.“Your turn. Let’s hear what the cool bar owner listens to.”
Kymberlie bit her lip.“You’re going to judge me.”
“Probably,” he agreed.
Her laugh transformed her face, softening the worry lines that had been etched there all week.
She connected her own phone to his truck’s entertainment system.“Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The cab filled with the unmistakable beat and cheerful riffs of a recent K-pop chart-topper.
Gabriel groaned theatrically.“Really?”
“Hey, sometimes a girl just needs some cotton-candy music,” she defended, turning up the volume and shoulder-dancing in her seat.
The sight of her—moving to the beat, eyes closed, stress momentarily forgotten—created a warm glow in Gabriel’s chest. He grinned and enjoyed the song despite himself.
When it ended, he reached for the controls.
“My turn again. Let me show you how it’s done.”
The opening guitar riff of Led Zeppelin’s“Kashmir” filled the cab. Kymberlie’s eyes widened, and she lunged for the volume knob, turning it up higher.
“You like Zeppelin?” Gabriel asked, surprised.
“Like them? Ilovethem!” She air-drummed along with the beat.“My parents raised me on this album.Physical Graffitiis practically scripture in my house.”
Gabriel stared at her in disbelief.“Mine too.”
Before Gabriel had moved here from Colorado, he’d always gone hunting with his dad on opening day of deer season in the fall.
Dad’s old truck still had a CD player, and a stack of classic rock CDs lived in the center console.
For the next thirty minutes, they traded favorite Zeppelin tracks, arguing good-naturedly about which of the band’s albums were best, and sharing stories of the first time they’d heard each song.
By the time they reached the outskirts of Missoula, something fundamental had shifted between them.
Kymberlie’s wariness had dissolved completely, and Gabriel felt comfortable enough to loosen up around her. It was like the music had worked a mysterious spell, changing them from opponents to something close to friends.
