by Brea Viragh
She sat on the edge of the bed the next morning and held a cup of steaming something between her hands to warm them. At least, she assumed it was morning. Her diurnal cycle was interrupted by the storm, not to mention the lack of clocks in the place. For all she knew it might be three o’clock in the afternoon.
Lakota had thankfully kept his distance and slept on the couch, let her rest as long as she wanted. He must have gotten up during the night to feed the fire, however, because despite a slight chill in the air, the place was pretty cozy. She was appreciative of his diligence. Not that she told him. Farris chose instead to hide her discomfort in her drink—a strange combination of coffee and herbs, her nose decided—and let the heat seep through her skin, into her bones.
“Well—” she began.
Lakota turned, his arm over the edge of the couch. “I mean, what do you suggest? I can’t exactly drive anywhere and pick out some flowerpots for you.” He shot her a grin, worrying his lower lip and drawing her attention.
Nope, no lips. None. Definitely not his. “Is that what you think women like? Flowerpots?” She drew the edges of the borrowed flannel closer to her chest. There was a lot of extra fabric. “I’m thinking with Christmas around the corner, you have no decorations up to instill a little holiday spirit, and you need some.” It was bachelor pad bare meets hunting cabin realness, none of which made her feel more at ease.
“I can’t go to the store for twinkle lights and ornaments, either.”
“No, but I saw some decent pines in the yard. One of them would make a good Christmas tree.” It was something she always enjoyed. The traditions of the holidays. The process of transforming the house into a paradise. It was something she could do with her parents that didn’t result in them asking her where her life was going or when she was moving out of the basement. They could just enjoy each other’s company.
Now, cut off from everyone and everything in the outside world, she needed something to keep her busy, to keep her mind off of Lakota, the isolation, and the ways her mind told her they could pass the time. Under different circumstances, she might have entertained the healthy fantasies. His face…there was something hauntingly handsome in the lines of it, something that made her wonder about him.
But she’d never been big on one-night stands, and a man like him certainly wouldn’t want a relationship with her. Celibacy was the name of the game for Farris. As for more practical matters, they were stuck together for the next however long until they could get out. Given the strength of the storm and the location of the cabin, they would likely be there together for a few more days.
What was she going to do?
If she’d still had her reservation at the hostel, she would have been there planning out her shots at her next location. Instead, fate had launched a curveball and she was here with a stranger. Not just any stranger, Farris thought, but a drop-dead gorgeous one who made her legs want to spread wide.
He stared at her with eyes round as marbles. Like he was working through her sentence word by word trying to make sense of it. “Christmas tree… I haven’t had one of those since I was a kid.”
“I’m sure your family put one together at some point. You said you had brothers? It’s tradition,” she said, and pushed away from the bed to stand.
“Maybe they did, I’m not sure. This was my grandfather’s cabin and as soon as I was old enough to know I could live on my own without help, I came here.” He shrugged, watching her. “I haven’t lived at home since I was about fifteen.”
“But you see them at work? Your brothers?”
“At work, yes, and it’s enough for me. I’ve always been kind of a loner. Don’t look at me like that,” he chided when her jaw dropped. “I am. Never been a social butterfly.”
“It shouldn’t stop you from enjoying the reason for the season. If you want to,” she clarified. “I just think I’ll go stir crazy if I have to stay in here without anything to do. You don’t have books, or movies, or internet.” He had nothing she would read, anyway. There was no horror, no suspense, only a handful of biographies. Yuck. “What do you do for fun?”
Flopping down on the couch, he called out, “There’s no time for fun. I work, and when I’m not working, there’s clan business. Usually by the time I get home for the day I’m so worn out I fall into bed. If I do have a free moment, I run.” He popped up and turned to her with a sheepish grin. “There is no better feeling than running on four legs. I love to feel the wind in my fur and the earth firm and solid under my paws. It’s nurturing in a way you can’t imagine.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“One day you’ll understand.”
She blew out a laugh and burned her tongue on her next sip of coffee. “Don’t bet on it,” she replied.
“I guess if I had to choose a hobby, I’d say landscaping. I love working with my hands.” He cleared his throat, turning toward the door. “I’ll tell you what. You help me clear the front stoop and I’ll go out and chop down a tree.”
“You don’t have to chop one down, silly. Use a chainsaw.”
“I would if I had one.”
“A lumber man who doesn’t own a chainsaw?” She scoffed, then gasped. “Wait, you’re trying to tell me you cut all this firewood by hand? Are you out of your mind? You could get hurt up here. And I’m sure it takes way longer to do it by hand. What is this, the seventeen hundreds? You don’t have to be a mountain man,” she chided.
A quick and cocky grin stretched from ear to ear. Coming closer, he made sure to raise his arm and flex his muscles in a way that showed her exactly why he preferred the old-fashioned method. “It keeps me in shape, sweetheart. I prefer to know I can handle things on my own without any help.”
The swell of his bicep was attention-grabbing in the best possible way. Normal people weren’t built like gods. But Lakota… Her mouth went dry and she gulped. “The, ah, the stoop?” She pointed at the door. “You want me to clear it?”
He nodded slowly. “Yes. If you do that, I’ll pick out a tree for you. I’m sure between the two of us we can string together some decorations. I might have popcorn around here.”
He watched her when she crossed the room, slipping into her boots, acutely aware of his eyes on her back. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, feeling the cold, before pulling it open and inhaling a mouthful of snow. The strong winds had drifted the snow almost to the top of the doorframe. She scrambled back, coughing and hacking, her face nearly frozen.
“What the hell?”
Lakota’s laughter was infectious. “I’m sorry! I couldn’t resist. It happens every year.”
Wiping her eyes, Farris finally blinked enough to see the extent of the work ahead, just to get out the door. Her cheeks were burning. “You expect me to shovel through this.” It was more a statement than a question. “It’s a solid wall! Except for the pound and a half I swallowed.”
“I keep a shovel next to the coat rack. Start at the top and work your way to the bottom. It’s only going to get worse if we don’t address it now.”
“I’m not built to shovel snow. My arms don’t look like yours!” She held one up to prove her point.
“You want your Christmas tree, right? The way to get it is through the front door. If we can’t get out, then it can’t come in.”
“I hate it when you’re logical.”
In the end, Lakota helped shovel snow alongside her. Their arms moved in tandem, bodies working together, and although there was little serious conversation, Farris felt closer to him. Soon it almost seemed normal. Helping Lakota take down the tree, seeing icicles growing long on the tree limbs around the property. Stopping to take breaks and head inside for some hot chocolate. It was a self-contained little world for the two of them.
She started to wonder if it would be so good every morning. The next day, with the tree leaning haphazardly next to the fireplace and a pot of water bubbling on the top of the woodburning stove, she had the same thought. And damn if she wasn
’t right. For two days straight, she rose to find Lakota up and busy. Shoveling snow around the house, chopping more wood and hauling it inside, getting the generator started so she could have hot water to clean. To repay him for his kindness, she made breakfast and tidied up the living areas. He continued to sleep on the couch, the soft snores he made at night better than a white noise machine.
Lakota’s portable radio brought them news of the storm and the outside world before he had to switch it off to conserve power. Mostly it was reports of outages and rescue operations for people stranded by the weather. Although she wouldn’t admit it to him, she was grateful to be inside, grateful to accept the cups of coffee and hot chocolate he offered, and grateful for the routine they developed over the next several days. They talked, got to know one another. She came to appreciate the moments of silence just as much.
Beneath it all, Farris sensed some kind of deep insecurity about him. She didn’t understand. There were moments it came close to the surface and, judging from the look on his face, he was trying hard to keep whatever he hid from bubbling up and out of his mouth.
The truth of the matter was she wasn’t afraid of him anymore. Or maybe she’d never been afraid of him. She poked at the oatmeal mixture in her bowl. Lakota was kind and generous, kinder and more generous than she had a right to expect from a man. There were moments when his sarcasm took on a sharp edge and his tone became brusque, but underneath it all she saw goodness and a big heart.
Odder still, she could sense he was attracted to her. She definitely was picking up an interested vibe. It happened. Not often, but it did happen. Men were attracted to her occasionally. Yet not all of those men treated her with the respect she deserved, and Farris was known for making some bad decisions when it came to romance. Which meant it was easier and safer to be alone.
Shrugging, she finished her oatmeal and brought the empty bowl to the kitchen sink. This wasn’t the right time to think about romance or wonder whether Lakota was interested in her or not. She had to practice a little self-preservation and think about herself. Making a face, she added her dish to the others, sighed. As soon as the snow let up enough for them to get out, she’d be on her way, and she would never see him again.
She tried to swallow and found her throat refusing to cooperate, the pounding in her head worsening.
The two-way radio they’d used for news clicked on with a hiss of static.
“Come in, Lakota. Lakota, are you there?”
The deep voice on the other end was rugged. Gravelly in a way that had nothing to do with the bad connection.
“Hey, there’s someone on the other line!” she called out, scrambling to pick up the receiver.
Lakota came in through the door, shaking off snow. “What’s the matter?”
Her hand went for the button to answer. “It’s the radio. Hello? Come in.”
He was across the space in four long strides, his larger hand wrapping around hers and dragging the receiver away. “I’ll handle this,” he stated harshly. “Lakota here. Come in.”
“You’re alive.” The man on the other end sounded irritated, not relieved. “We’ve been trying to get through for days.”
“Sorry, I only had the thing on intermittently, to save power. The solar backup is broken so the rechargeable battery isn’t, well, charging. I’ve been meaning to replace it. But I should have called in to let you know.”
“Did I hear a woman’s voice?”
Lakota turned his shoulders away like it would help shield his conversation. “No, must be interference. How are you, Dad?”
Ah, so it was his father checking in. An amused smile crept over her lips at his reaction. No wonder he’d gone from powerful man to intimidated boy in a matter of seconds.
“How is everything? Do you have enough food? Firewood?”
“Well enough. I’ve got supplies to last me. How are the roads? You’ve been out?”
His father gave a short laugh. “No one can get out. I hope you didn’t have anywhere pressing to be. You might be up there for a while before I rally the troops to get you out.”
“You don’t need to rally them. I’m fine. Thank you for checking up on me, but I’m sure there are other people who need the help more than I do. There are other cabins in the area which might not be as well equipped. They might need supplies. I stocked up a few days before the storm.”
“Good. I’m glad you’re using your head. Not the most common occurrence. You have your Jeep?”
Lakota took the thinly veiled insult in stride. “The Jeep is parked and probably hidden beneath a few feet of snow. I’ll have to make my way down there in the next couple of days and see what I can do about digging it out. It’s a quarter mile or so away.” He scowled. “We’ll manage until then.”
“What did you say?”
Lakota smiled at Farris and easily covered his mistake. “Sorry, cabin fever. I’ve been talking to the couch again.”
“Well, keep the shortwave radio plugged in, in case I need to reach you. It pays to have a dependable piece of equipment on your side.” The elder Linden clicked off on another hiss of static and Lakota replaced the receiver, flicking the switch to off.
Then he stared for a moment. “I didn’t expect him to reach out. You see? He doesn’t listen to a word I say.”
“I can tell he stresses you out. You grabbed that receiver out of my hand faster than a hot potato.”
“Maybe I can be a little self-conscious about my father.”
“What’s his name?”
“Bruce. My mother is Milla, and my brothers are Joseph and Keen,” he answered while she studied him. “There, now you’ve had your history lesson.”
Wow, somehow she’d hit a nerve. “I can see you’re a little reserved about this subject. I’d ask why but I don’t feel like having my face gnawed off.” She turned, shaking her head.
“Yeah, I guess I am a little reserved. He’s been in control of my life since before my birth and sometimes I get rubbed the wrong way. It’s a bad habit I’m trying to outgrow.”
“You’re a sensitive guy. Hard to argue with the truth.”
“I should have introduced you…” Embarrassed, he let his words trail off.
“Why? It’s nothing. I’m nothing to you. An innocent woman you helped out of a tricky situation,” she said easily.
“I get the feeling you’re a little sensitive, too.” He reached out to take her hand before she could back away. “What do you want, Farris?”
How could she explain it to him when it was so damn embarrassing? “It’s me being weird. Don’t worry.”
“Do you want to sit down and talk?”
She took a long breath. He was touching her again, and giving off those interested vibes. Shaken by the sudden swell of desire for him, she tugged her hand until he let go. “I’m used to not being acknowledged.”
“Oh no, you’re not escaping from me yet.” He took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him again, his eyes clear and intense. “I didn’t tell him about you not because I’m afraid to acknowledge you in any way. It has nothing to do with you. I’m not used to being honest with my father. Women like you…” He struggled to find the right words. “Women like you don’t come along often. If anything, I’m nervous to tell anyone I’ve found such a sweet and caring person to share some feelings with.”
It was sweet, the way he said it. If only she could believe him. “Share some feelings, eh?”
“Come on. I’m sure you can tell I’m falling for you.”
“I thought it was the coffee.”
“Sweetheart, it’s not the coffee. It’s you. You have no idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off of you this whole time. I want to grab you and kiss you and make you mine. In every way possible.”
Oh. Oh man. The words weren’t sweet anymore. They were spicy, searing a path down to the apex between her legs and every place in between.
“You want me?”
He lowered his forehead to hers. “Mor
e than anything. You have to believe what a treasure you are. Smart, beautiful—”
“Please don’t.”
“Don’t what? Tell you the truth? I think about running my hands all over your body. I think about kissing your breasts and slipping my fingers inside of you.”
His words triggered the need crawling through her nerves. Without thinking, she took hold of his shoulders and drew him down, drew him into her. There was no reason, she mused, no reason at all not to enjoy him. Not when Lakota was offering himself so easily, without hesitation. It was a heady and powerful thing. One she wasn’t used to.
Normally, when she wanted a man, she had one of two options. She could resign herself to never having him, believing him out of her league, or she could strike like a tiger. Go after what she wanted and hope to make a swipe. This worked on a handful of occasions, only for her to find that what she thought she wanted wasn’t worth the effort. Or, as in the sad case of her ex-boyfriend, she got burned.
His lips crushed down on hers and she responded with a barely contained moan, shuddering against him. Falling victim to her own needs and the demands she’d tried desperately to dash.
Now here was this beautiful man with his long black hair and soulful eyes, telling her that he wanted her. That she was his and he would do everything in his power to keep her happy. Could she believe him? Trust him?
She wanted to.
“How do I know this is real?” she asked, keeping her eyes closed and her voice just above a whisper.
“Let me lead,” Lakota answered.
She tilted her head up to look at him. “I’m not sure I know how.”
His gaze dropped to her lower lip and Farris felt her breath catch in her chest. Lakota made a sound between a moan and a curse before lowering his head to fasten his mouth on hers.
The earth moved. The damn thing tilted on its axis and knocked everything off into space. As her body melted—quite against her will—into his, there was only the two of them. Only Lakota and Farris, and the rest of the world gone.
Chapter 6
