Shifters in the Snow

by Jacqueline Sweet

  I was disoriented, thirsty and ravenous, all at once. And, yes — very, very naked.

  A few moments later, reality hit me. Of course! I was with that hot, arrogant stranger. Sawyer. At his home. The sexy stranger I just —

  Oh god. We only met today. Or yesterday. What goddamn day is it, anyway? And, how did I just sleep with an almost-stranger?

  I looked around and realized I was sleeping on a sofa in the kitchen. Weird. Usually I battled broken sleep in my own bed, and here I was zonked out happily in a kitchen?

  Sawyer was busy at the stove, way over on the other side of the room. It was a pretty big kitchen, so we were at least fifteen feet apart.

  “What time is it?” My voice was scratchy. I coughed.

  “Hey, beautiful. It’s eight o’clock. Eight in the evening, that is. You’ve woken up just in time for dinner.”

  Sawyer had changed into a perfect, clean white tee, and faded blue jeans. His hair was slightly wet, and a little sprinkling of stubble glinted on that strong chin of his.

  By anyone’s standards, he looked jaw-droppingly hot. Seriously fine. I drank in his muscular beauty as he sauntered in my direction, his body lit only by a few spotlights on the other side of the kitchen.

  “Hey, Sawyer. Uh, where are my clothes?”

  “Hanging in the guest room closet. Second floor, third door on the right.”

  “Do I have time for a shower before we eat?”

  He looked at the skillet and back at me. “Uh, I guess the meat should rest a few minutes before we eat it. So, yeah. Go now. I’ll keep everything hot for you.” He raised one eyebrow as he said this last part.

  “Mm, yes please.”

  I swear I was hungry, not flirting.

  With another yawn, I stood up and stretched. Then, I couldn’t help noticing once more that I was one hundred percent naked.

  “Sawyer? I seem to be standing here nude and you have no drapes. And, the lights are on.”

  “It’s okay. Nothing overlooking us but mountains, baby.”

  “What if someone walks past and peeps in the window?”

  “Then, I’ll shoot them. It’s all good.”

  “You’d better be joking.”

  “Of course I am. I wouldn’t shoot them. I’d just shove them into the river.”

  “So funny. You should be on Saturday Night Live.”

  “Look, Sarcasm Girl, get upstairs and shower, before I eat all the goddamn food myself. And then jump you again. Your incredible naked body is distracting me.”

  “Really?” I put a hand on my hip.

  In truth, he was getting me pretty fired up too, standing there in his pristine white tee and jeans. I was half-inclined just to tear them off him again, and to hell with the food.

  “Go. Scram. I can’t concentrate on cooking when my cock is this hard.”

  “Yeah, yeah. All right. I’m gone.”

  I scampered along to the hallway and up the stairs, trying not to think about his huge cock reporting for duty again. Or, the huge plate glass windows on all sides of the house.

  If anyone had been standing outside a little while ago, we would’ve given them one almighty floorshow.

  Yeesh. I put that out of my mind and skipped up the wide, sweeping staircase.

  Sawyer’s guest room was bigger than my whole apartment back home. Hell, its bathroom alone was bigger than my bedroom. The Rollinsons’ guest apartment was a part of my salary package, and I knew how lucky I was to live alone in NYC. But, calling it ‘compact’ was putting it politely.

  And, this house? It was the sort of home where you could really kick back and breathe. Sawyer said before that he needed lots of space. No wonder he bought this place. He must find plenty of it here.

  I showered quickly, and threw my clothes back on. It was the only outfit I had, at least until the police released my suitcase and sent it on to the hotel.

  Out of the window, the full moon and stars glittered in the winter sky. I knew I should head off to the hotel soon, if I didn’t want to find myself stranded in a snowdrift.

  As I came downstairs, I heard the faint clinking of cutlery. Sawyer was laying it all out properly on the kitchen table.

  He smiled at me as I walked in. “Red wine okay with you?”

  “Uh—” Well, I guessed I wasn’t going to be driving anywhere while the cops had my employer’s car. Not tonight, anyway. Sawyer could drive me. “Sure. Why not.”

  Sawyer set a plate down in front of me. On it was a juicy, fresh burger, packed into a crisp, white bun with tomato and lettuce. The rest of the plate was filled with beautifully golden french fries and a green salad. Tiny china dishes of pickles and preserves filled the center of the table, with little spoons in each.

  “You made this?” I looked at the plate and back at him. “All this? From scratch?”

  “I didn’t bake the bread. But, yeah. Hamburgers are easy, girl. You just grind the beef, season it—”

  “You ground the beef yourself?”

  “Will you stop looking so shocked? I’m an adult. I can feed myself. And, anyone else who happens to stop by. What, you think I live on powdered mac and cheese just because I’m a guy and I live alone? C’mon. Eat.”

  I bit into the burger and groaned. Juice trickled down my chin, and I didn’t even care. It tasted unbelievably great.

  “Good, huh?” He grinned over his own burger and took a bite.

  “That is the best hamburger I have ever tasted. I’m not even joking.”

  “Damn straight. Wait until you try my hand-rolled sushi.”

  “Are you for real?”

  “Ha! No. I’m kidding about the sushi.”

  “Thank god. I was starting to think you were too good to be true.”

  “Oh, I’m true, all right. Brave and true. Here, have some pickles.”

  We ate in cheerful silence for a while. The fries were divine. The salad was crunchy and fresh. It was pretty much the best meal I’d ever eaten.

  Or, maybe it was just the best company.

  I wasn’t about to tell Sawyer any of that, though. The guy had an ego the size of Buttermilk Mountain already.

  As I reached the end of the plateful, I sat back and patted my full belly.

  “This has been awesome. Thank you so much for cooking. I wish it wasn’t so late, but I’m going to have to head out to that hotel before the snow sets in for the night.”

  He grabbed my hand across the table.

  “Look, Cadence, you don’t have to go anywhere. There’s more than enough room for you to stay.” He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb.

  “I really couldn’t ask you to take me in. We just met.”

  “I think we’re getting to know each other pretty well, don’t you?” He traced a swirling pattern on my forearm, and I shivered.

  “We are, but I know you’re just being kind and it’s fine, really. I’d just be in your way here. And, I’m so worried about Deborah. I’ll be awful company until I know she’s safe.”

  “Look, you don’t need to go through this alone, okay? You don’t have to sleep in my bed either, if you don’t want to. Use the guest room you showered in. Use one of the other guest rooms. Curl up anyplace you want. Don’t say no because I need my space, though. I already said it’d be great to have you here, and I meant it.”

  “I don’t have any of my stuff,” I said, lamely. “The cops were going to have my luggage sent to the hotel room. Once it’s been searched for evidence, I guess.”

  “Let me fix that.”

  Sawyer jogged to the counter and picked up his cellphone. He dialed a number.

  “Naylor! How are you doing, buddy? Reckon you can handle a quick run-around tonight?”

  He wandered out into the hallway, still talking. I took another sip of wine. I had no idea about wine, but it tasted pretty good to me.

  Minutes later, Sawyer was back.

  “Naylor will swing by the hotel now and get your stuff. I’ll clear it with Jim, first. Excuse me for one mo
re minute.” He tapped the screen of his phone again.

  Was there any part of my life this guy couldn’t take over?

  I walked over to the vast windows, looking out pointlessly into the blackness of the Aspen evening. All I could see was my own reflection gazing back at me. Coming to Aspen was either the biggest mistake I’d ever made, or the best thing I’d ever done. There was a small possibility that it was both.

  Helping

  We sat by the fireplace drinking hot chocolate late into the night. Sawyer’s stories about growing up as a shifter were hilarious.

  It was strange how easily I accepted the news that he was half-man, half-beast. Maybe he was right about fate pushing us together.

  Around midnight, there was another knock at the door.

  “That’ll be your luggage.” Sawyer leaped up and jogged to the hallway.

  He emerged again with a huge, burly, bearded guy, who lifted my two suitcases on his fingertips like they were movie props made of foam rubber.

  “This is Naylor. Look what he has here.”

  “Wow, thanks so much, Naylor. I appreciate that.”

  “It’s no bother, ma’am,” said Naylor, blushing to the very edges of his beard.

  I waited until he’d left, and then I pounced on Sawyer. “Naylor’s a shifter too, isn’t he?” I sat back in triumph, waiting for him to say I was right.

  The edges of Sawyer’s mouth curled slightly.

  “Maybe. What kind of shifter do you think he is?”

  “I don’t know. Well he’s huge. Pretty quiet. Strong, and a little shy.”

  “This is uncanny. So? What is he?”

  “A bear?”

  “Yeah!” Sawyer high-fived me. “He’s a grizzly shifter. There are a lot of bear shifters around here. Nice job, Bradley. Nice job.”

  I chuckled. “You can tell I have detective training, right? Just a little.”

  “Why, sure. It’s written all over you. Now, your turn to answer a question. What happened to your cousin after you saved her ass? Did she turn her life around for good?”

  I coughed nervously. JoJo was a sore subject for me.

  “Well, she is possibly in Mexico now. I’m not sure.”

  “Mexico?”

  “Yeah. See, I looked after her twenty-four-seven until she kicked her habit. After that, she kind of — well, it was like she hated me for seeing her at her most vulnerable, or something. She resented the fact that I stood between her and whichever fucked up boyfriend she had at the time. So, eventually she bailed. I tried to stay in touch whenever she and her rent-a-deadbeats moved across the country, but it was one-sided. Last I heard, she was in Mexico with some dealer. Nothing I can do about it now.”

  Thinking about JoJo sent my blood pressure soaring. That girl had an instinct for danger and bad situations.

  “That must be hard.”

  “Mm.”

  “It must make you angry, when you gave up so much to help her.”

  “Well, I don’t know.”

  “You must miss her.”

  I nodded and looked out of the window. I so did not want to talk about this.

  “So why did you become a rich lady’s PA?”

  “Girl’s gotta eat.”

  “Fair enough. And, you’re happy working for Deborah?”

  I went quiet. How to even begin to answer that?

  “Well I guess I’m not unhappy, but—”

  “But you’d be a lot happier if you could’ve been a cop? Yeah?”

  “Oh, sure. Yeah.”

  “Who do you think has taken Deborah?”

  “I’m not a cop. We just established that.”

  “I’m just interested in the Cadence Bradley theory.”

  “I don’t have a theory.”

  “Bullshit.” Sawyer threw a handful of marshmallows into the last inch of my hot chocolate. “Come on. Give me what you got.”

  “Oh, for god’s sake.” I grabbed my phone and flicked open the gallery app. “Look. Here’s the ransom note. You know, I probably shouldn’t show this to people.”

  “It’s okay. I’m only half a person.”

  “Ha ha. Look. See the childish writing, like the person is using the wrong hand, or maybe got a kid to do it for them? I guess the cops will be able to analyze that, and the materials used, and build up a picture that way. Hopefully it’s covered in fingerprints and they can get an ID that way.”

  “What’s that number?” Sawyer pinched the screen outward to make the photo bigger.

  “That’s the account number. The ransom is meant to go in there. Good luck with that though, buddy. There’s no way Deborah’s husband Edgar can get his hands on thirty mil in forty-eight hours.”

  “And, if he doesn’t? Do you think Deborah’s in real danger?”

  I felt icy fingers closing around my heart. The prospect of Deborah being genuinely in danger was terrifying.

  “I don’t know,” I said in a small voice.

  Sawyer grabbed the phone from my hand and leaned over to the table in front of us. He pulled out a pen and notepad from a drawer in the side, and scribbled something down.

  “What are you writing?”

  “Making a note of the account number. I mean, someone should just pay it, right? Then, he won’t try to hurt her.”

  I stared at him.

  “I just told you, Edgar doesn’t have that kind of money. He probably has it in assets, but he couldn’t get his hands on the cash in anywhere near enough time.”

  “I know. You said that.”

  “So what are you—?”

  He looked me deep in the eyes, a grave expression on his face.

  “I’ll pay it.”

  “Excuse me?” I set the cup down, because my hands were beginning to tremble. “You have thirty million dollars lying around?”

  “Not lying around. I’ll need to call the bank in Boulder and have it transferred.”

  I gasped. He held my gaze.

  He didn’t seem to be joking.

  “How is— How is that even possible?”

  He looked embarrassed. “It’s no big deal. I’ll call in the morning and we’ll get it done.”

  I stood up and stumbled to the window. Nothing to see there. Just blackness. Why didn’t he just get some drapes?

  “So, you’re like a super rich guy? I mean, I knew you were pretty rich from seeing your house, but— seriously? Thirty million, just like that? That’s nothing to you?”

  He scratched his head, looking pained.

  “I just think that ransom needs to be paid. Worst case scenario? Deborah goes free, and I lose the money. If it goes well, the police get to trace the cash transfer and bang, they’ve got him. Either way, this needs to happen.”

  “That’s not the worst case scenario. What if he takes the money but he doesn’t let her go?”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  I laughed hollowly. “Criminals are fucked up by definition. You’re assuming a lot here.”

  “He’ll let her go.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just know.”

  “Oh, man.” I paced the room, feeling lightheaded. “So, what do you do for a living? Or, did you inherit your fortune?”

  “I inherited nothing but a bad attitude.” His expression was stony. “I’m an independent stock trader. I work alone. My instincts are pretty good, and I’ve built up a lot of capital through good decisions. It’s that simple. I keep a lot of cash on deposit because I like to be able to jump in and buy companies if I think they’re a good prospect. The first person to show them the money, wins. Ain’t no second prize in business.”

  “Wow.”

  “Are you freaked out by this?”

  I thought about it for a second. “No. I just don’t think I’ve met anyone with that sort of money before. Life must be real easy for you, huh?”

  He snorted with what sounded like bitter laughter. “If only.”

  “You’re a multi-millionaire though, surely?”

 
; He half-shrugged.

  “Jeez. A billionaire?”

  He nodded, looking awkward.

  “And, you made all your money yourself?”

  “Yes. Every last cent of it.”

  “Way to frickin’ go, dude. Way. To. Go.”

  “I’m just happy that I can help with this. Let’s stop talking about it now.”

  I wasn’t at all convinced that paying the ransom was the right thing to do, but he was so sure, I didn’t argue any more.

  We sat back on the sofa together, and he put his arm around me. I slumped against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. He stroked my hair gently. It felt so warm and safe, I got all sleepy right away. The last thing I remembered was his soft kiss on the top of my head, and the rhythmic sound of his breathing beneath my cheek.

  The Visitors

  I woke up in a bed, which is definitely not where I fell asleep. It was a huge bed, with crisp cotton sheets and soft blankets. I could hardly persuade myself to move, because it was so comfortable.

  Sunlight streamed through the windows. The light had a whiter quality to it than in Manhattan. I guessed that was because it reflected off the snow.

  Once again, I realized I’d slept beautifully, with no restless wakefulness in the early hours. If only I was this relaxed at home, I thought.

  Looking around, I realized I was in the guest room I’d showered in yesterday. A pang of disappointment flickered in my stomach. He hadn’t taken me into his own bed. Maybe he really didn’t mean all the stuff he said about destiny, and fated mates, and stuff. Maybe that was just the sort of thing guys said to talk their vacation romances into sleeping with them.

  My heart felt heavy when I thought about Deborah. If only I hadn’t gone on a pointless journey just before the kidnapper came to call. Maybe, I could’ve stopped this happening. If only I’d found her laptop in the car when we first arrived at the house.

  Endless different versions of reality played through my mind. As I showered, I rehearsed lots of different endings to the story — ones where Deborah didn’t get abducted.

  Rinsing my hair in the warm jets, I began to cry. It was all too awful to think about. What must she be feeling right now? I prayed that she was safe and being taken care of. I hoped the guy really was just motivated by money. Sawyer insisted he was going to take care of that side of things. If that meant Deborah would be released, then great.