Page 12 of Snowbound
I think he’s reaching into his pocket. Keys? Does he really havekeysto this place? Or am I just imagining all of this? None of it makes sense.
But then, a few moments later, the door swings open with a creak and a gust of wind.
“Jesus,” he mutters again, breathless. “You’re fucking freezing.”
He kicks the door shut behind him with a loud bang that echoes in the quiet.
“Here—come here,” he says, urgency replacing his anger. I want to ask questions, but my lips won’t work. My tongue feels like lead, my teeth chattering uncontrollably. I’m shivering now as he gently lays me down on the couch.
“O-O-Owen?” I blink up at him. “Is that you? Really?”
“Aye.” He grunts, kneeling beside me. “There’s time for questions later. First, we stop the fucking frostbite.”
I shiver harder as he kneels in front of me, tugging at my boots.
“Fucking useless pair of boots,” he mutters, tossing them aside. “Goddamn prop.”
He leans in, inspecting my lips, and his thumb brushes against them, lingering. Even half-frozen, a jolt of heat zips through me.
I stare up at him—at those wide green eyes, now shadowed with concern. His features are sharper than I remember, more mature. Time has worn something into him. It’s been a few years, but it shows. His beard is thicker, jaw more defined, and yet… his eyes are still the same.
Green as spring grass. Familiar.
And right now?Furious.
“What thehellwere you doing out there?” he asks, his voice taut.
“I was decorating the tree,” I mumble, suddenly embarrassed. I look away.
He glances toward the window and scowls, but mercifully doesn’t say anything. I can’t take judgment right now. Not from him.
He works quickly, peeling off my soaked outer layers, replacing them with every blanket he can find in the place until I'm swaddled like a child, warm and dazed.
I look around, surprised there’s light in here now, and heat. When did that come back on? God, it feelsso good.
“Why was the goddamn door locked?” he snaps. “Why did you go out in the fucking snow with no way to get in?”
“I d-don’t kn-know,” I stutter, shivering.
“Jesus,” he mutters again. “No more questions for now. Let’s get you sorted.”
“How didyouget in here?”
“I had to build a fire,” he says, as if that explains everything. “Stay put.”
“As i-if I’m g-going anywhere,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. He just shakes his head.
He moves toward the fireplace, drops to one knee, and within minutes, he’s coaxed it into a blazing roar. The heat spreads across the room, licking at my limbs like sunlight. I sigh in relief.
“Oh mygod, that feels so good.”
I glance down and realize I’m in nothing but panties and a bra, hidden beneath layers of blankets. My cheeks burn. He’s seen me like this. He undressed me.
Owen’s practically a stranger now… except no. No, he’s not.
No. He never really was.
“Stay right there,” he says again, the command in his voice leaving no room for argument.
