Snowbound Snuggles

by T. F. Walsh

  In the bedroom, she kicked off her shoes and sorted through the closet. She had no idea what she’d wear tonight, but she certainly wasn’t going to face Rey in work garb. Ratty jeans and a T-shirt wouldn’t do, either. She wanted to feel sexy but not flaunt it at him. Not too much, anyway. He needed to see what he’d abandoned. Maybe even have his nose rubbed in it a little. After some consideration, she pulled out a bright pink cashmere sweater and crisp, new blue jeans. The sweater clung sweetly to her breasts, and she knew for a fact she looked damned good in a pair of jeans. If that didn’t make Rey sweat, nothing would.

  Wearing the more casual clothes, she went into the bathroom and straightened her pale, short-cropped hair. Then she wondered why she was making such a fuss. It was Rey, after all, who’d seen her at her best and worst for five years before he’d decided his career was more important than their marriage.

  Sudden thickness rose in her throat. She blinked hard as the old emotions rose. The erosion of her marriage had been the most painful thing she’d ever experienced, and the thought of facing that again held her paralyzed for a moment. Could she walk into that restaurant tonight, knowing it could be the first step down a road that led to bereavement?

  In the kitchen, the teakettle began to whistle. Joely jerked back to the present, untangling her thoughts from memories of Rey. There was a great deal of good mixed in with the bad. Memories she still treasured, of secrets shared, love whispered, heated bodies tangling in the darkness, or the muted light of late morning. She looked at the mirror, at her own clear blue eyes and the determined set of her jaw.

  She had to find out what he had to say.

  Chapter Two

  With her heart in her mouth, Joely stepped through the front door of the Elk Valley Diner. She paused, taking a deep breath. She’d spent many a lunch break here—the nachos were excellent. It was familiar territory, at least, making her feel less nervous about the impending confrontation with Rey. What could he say to her after all this time? Why had he even come?

  Of course, she wouldn’t get the answers to these questions until she actually spoke to him. Fighting the urge to turn around and run, she continued into the restaurant.

  Rey sat at the bar, sipping a beer. In a chambray shirt and jeans, he looked more like he belonged in Colorado, rather than in a posh New York City boutique. A shock of brown hair fell down over his forehead as he made notations on his phone. Joely found her attention captured by the movement of his fingers. Those fingers could work magic when he put his mind to it, and she could remember the exact sensations, how they felt sliding over her skin, cupping a breast, sliding inside her.

  Her attention drifted down lanky, jeans-clad legs to the comfortable-looking hiking boots on his big feet. The jeans were snug but not too tight, displaying each line of his muscled legs and buttocks to perfection. And the feet—although the feet inside the boots were typical knobby man-feet, she had reason to know he lived up to the old wives’ tale about the size of a man’s feet.

  A long, tall drink of water, indeed. She’d forgotten how damn pretty he was. She’d forgotten how much she always wanted him when she saw him. The way he made her breath go shallow and her heart speed up. The way her body opened, ready to take him in.

  Gathering herself yet again, she perched on the stool next to him and he looked up, giving her that smile. The one that rendered useless all efforts to calm herself. “Hi.” He paused. “So what’s the verdict?”

  “I don’t have the papers.”

  His face softened with relief, and only then did she realize it had carried the tension of uncertainty. She laid her hand on his, let herself feel the warmth of his skin.

  “Why am I here? What do you want to talk to me about?”

  “I want a second chance.”

  She could only stare at him. “I gave you a second chance. And a third chance. A fourth, even. You refused to change anything.”

  “I know.”

  His soft admission surprised her. She leaned against the bar. The support helped a little. She felt like her whole world had turned sideways, and if she didn’t hold on tight to something, she might fall off.

  “I screwed up, Joely. I know that now and I knew it then. I was stubborn and stupid, and I threw away the best thing that ever happened to me.” His eyes on hers were soft and sincere. “I want a second chance.”

  She shook her head, fighting the thickening that had begun in her throat. “I can’t go through that again, Rey.”

  He looked down into the amber of his beer. “I know. I know I have no right to ask. But I’m asking anyway.”

  Behind them, a waiter called Rey’s name, announcing the availability of a table for two. He picked up his beer and slid off the barstool.

  “I’d rather discuss this at the table, anyway,” he said. “It’ll be more private.”

  “Yes, I suppose it will.”

  She followed him, using the opportunity to compose her thoughts. The tears hadn’t quite gotten underway, but she blinked a few times to be sure they wouldn’t plague her. The last thing she needed right now was to break down.

  Exactly what kind of second chance was he after? That was the big question. If he thought she was going to pack up and head back to New York with him, he was sadly mistaken.

  The waiter settled them in a cozy corner booth that afforded more privacy than she’d expected. That was good. Whatever Rey had to say, they could hash it out here. She didn’t want the awkwardness of having him in her house, where it would be too intimate. The booth was discreet but kept him at arm’s length. If he managed to get any closer than that, she wasn’t sure what she would do. Just seeing him had put him too close to her heart. If he touched her in anything other than a casual manner, all the turbulent, painful emotion inside was likely to explode out of her. So far, she had remained calm. She needed to hold on to that with both hands.

  “So,” she said after they’d placed their order. “Exactly what are you proposing?”

  He leaned over the table, eyes dark with sincerity. Deep, storm-dark. The kind of dark that could drag her in, immobilize her. She swallowed.

  “I want a month. A month to be your husband again.”

  The statement startled her, but she maintained composure. Calmly, she said, “A month is a long time.”

  “It’s barely any time at all. We could have forever together, like we planned in the beginning. A month is nothing.”

  The tears were lurking again. She fought them and won. “You want me to come back to New York?”

  “No. I’ll stay here.”

  “You want to move in with me?” That sounded dangerous. The two of them in her tiny cabin, a chilly Colorado night . . . If he came to her, she wouldn’t be able to tell him no. Part of her heart lurched in anticipation, the other part shrank back in fear.

  “Yes,” he said simply.

  “Where are you going to sleep?”

  “I want to be your husband again, Joely.”

  It took her a moment to form words. This was too much for him to ask—far too much. “That’s a bit abrupt after all this time, don’t you think?”

  He trailed a finger across the back of her hand, over exactly the right spot. Her skin shivered under his touch. She drew a quick breath. The touch shot straight through her, firing every erogenous nerve in her body. No wonder it had been so hard to leave him. “Maybe,” he said.

  She stared at his hand, at the long, graceful fingers as they traced over her skin, and suddenly she remembered everything. The smell in the hollow where his shoulder met his neck. The tickle of his chest hair against her nose in the morning when she buried her head in his chest. The weight of his arms around her, the weight of his body on her. The firm, slim length of him sliding into her, deep, solid, so far inside her she felt like they had become one person.

  She jerked her hand away and tried to rub off the remaining sensation of his touch. She didn’t want this, didn’t want all this back. “This is a lot to spring on me all at once. I�
�ll have to think about it.”

  A look of sheepish disappointment rose on his face.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I don’t really have a place to stay tonight.”

  She shook her head, amazed. “You just thought you were going to ride into town and get me to agree to this scheme right away, didn’t you? You thought I’d invite you back into my life—into my bed—with open arms?”

  “Well—”

  “God, you’re arrogant.” Fury surged, burning past the arousal he’d lit in her body. Thank God. The arousal had been leading her down a far too dangerous path.

  “Or just hopeful.”

  “No, arrogant.” She pressed her lips together, hanging on to her anger like a lifeline. “I know the lady who runs the lodge up the road. I’m sure she can get you a room.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  She bristled at his conciliatory tone. “Look, I have a teeny-tiny house. There’s no guest room, and the couch isn’t exactly huge.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “You don’t mind now, but you’d mind in the morning when I had to pry you out of it with a crowbar.”

  He smiled. She was beginning to hate that smile. It made her warm and mushy and hot and needy all at the same time, and that was something she couldn’t afford to be.

  “You don’t want me to stay at the lodge, not if you’re thinking about prying me out of your couch.”

  She drew herself tautly upright in her chair. “It’s a very nice lodge. They give you free breakfast with the room.”

  “I’m sure it’s a wonderful lodge.”

  “Then go there.”

  “If that’s what you want me to do.” The smile hadn’t faded, and he looked almost smug. She wanted to slap him.

  Instead, she eyed him primly. “I think that would be best under the circumstances.”

  “But you’ll think about what I said?”

  “Yes, I’ll think about it.”

  He nodded, the smugness fading into something that looked disturbingly like relief. “That’s all I ask.”

  • • •

  Back at home, Joely threw her purse on the couch and sat down next to it, staring at the blank screen of her television.

  The couch was definitely short. Rey was six feet tall, the couch five-and-a-half. Still, she could picture him curled up asleep on it, his big feet wedged up against one of the arms. Maybe for a few nights, just to see if they could get reacquainted, if they were still the same people they’d been seven years ago when they’d promised to love, honor and cherish.

  Snorting at her own naïveté, she picked up the remote and turned on the TV. Of course they weren’t the same people. Rey had changed enough during their marriage to rip their relationship apart. And she’d changed, definitely. During their marriage and after it.

  But they might still be people who could get along. Maybe even people who could love each other. Certainly the sexual attraction was still there, in a big way. It had been all she could do to keep from playing footsie with him under the table, or taking off her panties and passing them to him, as she’d done a couple of times in college.

  She shook her head, disgusted at herself. Sexual attraction wasn’t enough—not even close. And it was so intense, so volatile, so consuming, that it was hard to consider anything else over the tumult it produced.

  The early news predicted snow for tomorrow. An inch in Denver, which meant the mountains would probably get more. Unless it stalled elsewhere, blew over faster, or moved in an entirely different direction. Typical Colorado weather—tumultuous and unpredictable.

  Apparently, that was also typical of her life.

  She flipped channels absently for a few minutes, then went into the bedroom to change into her pajamas. The phone on the bedside table seemed to beckon her. She looked at it, took a step toward it, then defiantly stuck her tongue out at it.

  The kitchen phone, however, wouldn’t be subdued so easily. Against her will, Joely found herself cradling the receiver against her shoulder while the other end of the line rang at the Sky Mountain Lodge.

  The lodge’s proprietor answered the phone. “Hi, Virginia,” Joely said. “This is Joely. I sent someone your way about a half hour ago and I wanted to be sure he made it.”

  “Oh, yes, the nice young man with the brown hair. Mr. Birch. Is he your brother?”

  Joely smiled. “He’s my ex-husband. Well, not really ex. Never mind. It’s a long story.”

  Virginia laughed. “It must be, if you sent him here instead of keeping him to yourself. He’s a fine one.”

  “People keep telling me that.”

  “Well, you let me know when you want him sent back your way. The sign on the wall says I can refuse him service at any time.”

  “I’ll do that.” Joely paused, closed her eyes. Maybe the words she felt coming would stop if she concentrated hard enough. “Could you transfer me to his room?” Or maybe not.

  “Sure. Just a second.”

  She could always hang up now, before the call rang in Rey’s room. But the phone remained defiantly perched against her shoulder as it rang once, then twice, then half a third time. Rey’s voice broke through.

  “Hello?”

  She closed her eyes against the soft assault on her senses. God, that voice . . . “Hey, Rey. It’s me.”

  A pause. “Hey, Joely.” His voice changed, softened. It sounded furry when he lowered it like that. She hadn’t forgotten that, either. The sound set her on fire, heat pouring down her abdomen, spreading over her inner thighs, melting between her legs. At least she was predictable.

  “I just wanted to be sure you got settled okay.”

  “I’m fine. It’s a nice lodge.”

  “I know.” She hesitated, questioned her own sanity a couple of times, then said, “Let’s get together tomorrow. Lunch?”

  “How about breakfast? I know how much you like to eat breakfast out.”

  “Okay, but it’ll have to be early. I open the shop at nine and I like to be there by eight-thirty.”

  “I’ll see you at seven. Do they serve breakfast at that diner?”

  “Yes. Good breakfast. I’ll see you there.”

  As she hung up the phone, she wondered where all her common sense had gone. Straight out the window, apparently. But the thought of seeing Rey tomorrow morning over a plate of pancakes made her strangely, warmly happy. It was more than just the arousal, the raw, animal response to him. There was something about him that felt like home, and that was infinitely more dangerous. This was home. She had herself, her business, her log cabin. He was just a distraction, sexy and arousing, and carrying all the baggage of her past.

  Crawling into bed, she wondered if she’d responded to him the way she had because she was lonely. She should have gotten herself a dog a long time ago. Then maybe she wouldn’t be so vulnerable.

  She lay awake for a long time, staring into the empty darkness. Tears pricked her eyelids and she blinked them back.

  They had been so good together, when they’d worked at it. She couldn’t help remembering. Couldn’t push the images back, of their years together, of how perfect it had seemed, before it had all fallen apart.

  The first time they had made love, it had seemed like they’d known each other for years. He had touched her as if he knew everything about her. His hands had coaxed things out of her she’d never known existed. Small, wanton sounds, sensations that made her weak, made her weep. She hadn’t been a virgin, but she remembered that moment almost better than she remembered the actual loss of her virginity. The sweet, deep shock of him entering her, sliding inside her. Gentle and eager at the same time, wanting to soothe her but also to possess her. He had taken her deep, physically so, but also emotionally. Nothing in her life had ever felt the way it had felt to be made love to by Reynard Birch.

  She could have that again. Did she want that again? Knowing everything that could come with it?

  She mushed her pillow over her face and swo
re into it. Damn him, anyway. It wasn’t going to be an easy choice, and she had no idea how she was going to make it.

  • • •

  The Sky Mountain Lodge was nicely appointed and comfortable, but it wasn’t where Rey wanted to be. He wanted to be with Joely, in her house, even wedged into her too-short couch. Preferably, though, in her bed. Better yet, inside her.

  Instead, he was folding back soft sheets in a room with a rack of elk antlers on the wall above the bed. At least, he thought they were elk antlers. His knowledge of Colorado wildlife was sketchy at best.

  He stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes, remembering the way Joely had looked when he’d come into her shop. Still the same tall, willowy blonde girl he’d met in college, with her short-cropped, boyish hair and wide blue eyes. Or maybe not the same, because she wasn’t a girl anymore.

  He’d missed her so much. It seemed stupid now, that he had closed her out of his life over something as inconsequential as a job.

  Of course, it hadn’t seemed inconsequential then. It was easy, especially in New York, for priorities to get screwed up. He’d let that happen, and he’d paid for it. Dearly.

  He’d been stupid, the kind of stupid only pride could drive a man to. He’d focused on all the wrong things. Hopefully he was focused on the right things now. The most important of those being Joely.

  They’d always had a special bond. From the day they’d met, sparks had ignited, and even up to the day she’d left him, a single look had been enough to fan the flames. It had been more than just the sex, too. Though the sex had been incredible. Just thinking about it made him hard. Made him want her so much, he could barely think, or see, straight.

  He missed the sex, desperately. He missed everything else about her even more.