Page 54 of Perfect Cowboy

When I open the front door of the cabin, a brutally cold gust of wind attacks my bare skin and instantly drops my warm, comfortable body temperature down to frigid.

“Gavin!”

The snow has slowed down, but there’s a significant amount on the ground. The paths that Gavin cleared are already half-full again, so it’s a good thing that he got out there when he did or else we’d be completely snowed in.

Without him showing up to help me, I would have been trapped without heat or power.

Gavin is standing on the front porch only wearing boots and jeans with his eyes trained on the road. I follow the direction of his gaze but don’t see anything.

Then again, I don’t know what I’m looking for.

I frantically scan the area, searching for anything out of place. The moon and stars are so bright without the pollution of the city blocking their glow that the snow is almost blinding, even in the middle of the night.

That’s when I notice.

There are tire tracks – fresh tire tracks – right beside Gavin’s truck.

Given how quickly the snow was coming down, there’s no chance that the marks are left over from when Gavin first arrived.

“Who knows you’re here?” he demands.

My heart races so fast that my chest hurts, and I reach up to rub the ache away. “I… uh…”

The only person who knows I’m in Montana is my best friend in Chicago, but she doesn’t know the exact location of the cabin. Besides, it’s not like she’d come here, especially unannounced in the middle of a storm. And if she did, she would have come inside and not driven away without talking to me.

My brain struggles to catch up with the turn of events. It was only seconds ago that I was snuggled in Gavin’s arms after the best sex of my life, and now I’m standing outside in a blizzard, my body trembling from both cold and fear.

He closes the distance between us and grabs my shoulders, shaking me to bring my attention up to his face.

“Ashley. Who knows you’re here?”

“I didn’t tell anyone local if that’s what you’re asking. But I’m sure it wouldn’t take much detective work for people to figure it out if they were so inclined.”

It probably goes without saying, but I’m not exactly buddy-buddy with anyone around here, so it’s not like I’d just randomly go around announcing where I’m staying. I didn’t even mention it to the front desk clerk at the hotel when I checked out.

She asked because gossip fuels small towns, but I figured I’d just let people speculate on whether or not I left for good again.

“Go back inside, it’s freezing,” he says.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you have a gun in the cabin?”

My body temperature plummets even further, and it has nothing to do with the wind and snow. He’s all over the place and not making any goddamn sense.

“My dad might have left some guns. I don’t know. I also don’t know if they’d be loaded or even work after all this time. Guns aren’t really my forte.”

He wraps an arm around my waist and guides me back inside the cabin, grabbing the truck keys and then heading for the door again.

“Are you leaving?” I ask, my heart pounding in my throat.

The thought fills me with dread, and even though I know sex doesn’t mean we’re in a relationship – far from it – I still don’t want to be left alone right after the deed is done.

“I’m just getting my rifle,” he explains. “I know it’s loaded and I know it works.”

“Is everything okay?”

It’s a stupid question because if everything wasokaythen he wouldn’t need to get firepower. But I can’t think of anything else to say.

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