Brady frowned, then turned and watched her walk to the counter. He couldn’t help but notice the sexy little sway of her cute backside, as she walked away from him. Smiling, Brady was confident that if he wanted, he could remove her denims with minimal effort. He had to admit she was attractive, in a wholesome, country girl kind of way. He typically dated high maintenance women, who photographed well. It had been years since he’d taken a casual fan to his bed. It was too bad he didn’t have the time, Brady told himself as he filled a Styrofoam cup with hot coffee.
“Morning, Ed,” Brady heard the woman say to the man reading the newspaper. She set her coffee cup on the counter and reached into her purse for her wallet.
“Hey, Ella, I didn’t realize that was you. With my reading glasses on, anything beyond a couple feet is a blur. Have you finished your next bestseller?” Removing his reading glasses, Ed stood up. Still holding the glasses in one hand, he folded the newspaper he had been reading and tossed it on the stool.
“I’m working on it. My editor says if I get the manuscript to her by the first of December it might actually be out before Christmas.”
“I’ll be sure to let Carol know. She wanted me to tell you she loved the last one, by the way.”
“Glad to hear that, Ed. Tell her hi for me.” She handed Ed two twenty dollar bills. “I need forty dollars’ worth.”
Ed gave her a little nod and wink, then watched her walk toward the exit and out the door before turning to Brady, who was now standing at the counter.
“She’s an author,” Ed announced to Brady after Ella left the building.
“Oh?” Brady glanced from Ed to the front door. He could see Ella through the glass pane walking toward her vehicle. Brady looked back at Ed. It was obvious the old man had no idea who he was. That didn’t particularly surprise Brady, considering the man’s age.
“Yep, she’s my wife’s favorite author. I haven’t read her books, mind you. She writes stuff women like to read, you know, romance. But we’re pretty proud of our Ella. She’s our local celebrity.”
“I take it she’s from around here.” Brady asked, mildly curious.
“Sure is.” Ed said proudly.
“What did you say her name is?” Brady asked, wondering if he had heard of her.
“Ella Lewis. But she writes under another name, and I never can remember it.”
“Do you know who her publisher is?” Brady asked as he handed Ed money for the gas.
“Oh, she publishes her own stuff,” Ed explained.
“Really?” Brady smiled and glanced toward the door. Not long ago he’d met with a publisher regarding his biography. The two got into a discussion over the recent trend of wannabe writers who jumped into self-publishing. Lazy, no talent hacks, the publisher termed the upstarts. The man went on to say most independent authors made very little from their efforts, and Brady suspected this Ella was probably lucky to sell a few books to her friends. He couldn’t imagine she actually made a living writing romance novels without the assistance of an agent and real publisher.
Ella waited patiently for the man to return to the Jeep and get gas, so she could fill up the Suburban’s tank. If the second pump wasn’t out of order, she would have moved her car, but that pump had been out of order for over a week now.
She planned to stop at her favorite diner after getting gas to have breakfast before heading back to her condominium to pick up Sam. According to the morning weather report, a storm was moving in, but she intended to be at the cabin by noon, and she hoped to miss the bad weather. She wasn’t overly concerned about reaching the cabin safely because her vehicle was four-wheel drive, and she wasn’t traveling in the dark.
Brady filled his tank and wondered briefly why the woman simply didn’t use the other gas pump. He didn’t notice the out of order sign. When he finished, he got back into the Jeep and drove off without looking back.
According to the map, there wasn’t much but vacant highway from his current location to the village of Shipley. He should be there in less than an hour. Hungry, Brady decided to have a quick breakfast before getting back on the highway. Keeping his left hand on the steering wheel, he took a sip of his coffee, and then set the Styrofoam cup between his legs. He grabbed the blond wig from the passenger’s seat and hastily fit it on his head.
Ella noticed the Jeep the moment she pulled up to the diner. After parking the Suburban, she got out of her car, clicked the remote attached to her keychain to lock the vehicle, and walked to the diner’s front door.
It was fairly busy, and the only empty booth was adjacent to a man with shaggy blond hair. She glanced around, didn’t see the driver of the Jeep and suspected he was in the restroom. As she walked past the booth with the blond man, he turned and looked at her. He wore sunglasses. Her eyes widened slightly when she realized he was the man from the Jeep.
Without making a comment, she sat at an empty booth and hastily picked up the menu that was already on the table. Trying to hide behind the menu, she scooted down in her seat.
What is he, some kind of a nut? Ella asked herself, certain he’d recognized her from the gas station. What kind of a man wears a silly blond wig? When she glanced up over the menu, toward his table, she noticed he was staring at her. He immediately looked down at his menu.
She suddenly remembered Amanda discussing the rock star who rented the cabin and how he wanted to keep his stay a secret. Could that be him? Ella asked herself. She tried to remember what Brady Gates looked like. When it came to remembering faces, she had poor facial recognition skills. Setting the menu on the table, Ella reached into her purse and pulled out her iPhone.
As she went online to do a quick search for Brady Gate images, a waitress walked up to her table. Without setting down the phone, Ella gave the waitress her order and continued with the online search.
A few seconds later Ella had her answer. The man in the next booth was Brady Gates. Ella wasn’t excited to discover the famous rock star was just a few feet away, but she was relieved he wasn’t some serial killer that might run her off the road while she drove down the highway, and cut her into little pieces.
Ella smiled, put her phone back in her purse, and added cream to the coffee the waitress had just brought her.
Brady felt like an idiot sitting in the booth wearing the damn wig. While the waitress didn’t seem to recognize him with the dark glasses and blond hair, it was obvious the woman from the gas station recognized him from earlier. So far, it didn’t seem as if she knew his real identity. If she did, he imagined she would at least be asking for his autograph by now.
Getting another look at the woman, he had to admit she was attractive. He was half tempted to give her a tumble, yet considering she was some wannabe writer, he had no doubt she’d exploit their sexual encounter to get more readers. She might have a nice ass, and sexy eyes, but she wasn’t worth the trouble.
Determined to get out of the diner before the woman came over and started pestering him, Brady wolfed down his breakfast and was heading out the door by the time the server brought Ella her food.
Ella chuckled to herself as she watched Brady throw money on the table and rush out the door to the Jeep. She looked out the window and watched him pull out of the parking lot. She could swear she saw him pull the silly blond wig from his head.
When Ella finished breakfast, she paid the server and headed back to her condominium to pick up Sam. She found her dog waiting patiently by the door, ready to leave. She gave her home a final inspection, making sure everything was turned off and windows and doors were all locked, which delayed her trip another fifteen minutes. She was surprised to find the sky much darker than it had been when she’d gone inside just minutes earlier.
Overhead heavy dark clouds replaced puffy white formations. No longer stationary, they drifted steadily as if someone was calling them together for some ominous purpose.
“Looks like that storm is coming, Sam,” Ella said to her dog as she opened the back door of the vehicle. Sam
jumped up and put her front paws along the floorboard behind the driver’s seat. Ella reached down and picked up the dog’s rear end, helping the canine get into the car. Ella gave Sam’s rump an affectionate little pat before closing the door. Sam quickly moved onto the back seat and lay down.
Chapter Four
“Fuck,” Brady cursed as snowflakes thinly coated the windshield. The wiper’s steady back and forth proved ineffective at removing the persistent white downpour. With limited visibility, Brady struggled to keep his full attention on the uncertain road ahead.
The storm hit the moment he reached Shipley. Finding the hamlet was an easy enough task. All he had to do was stay on the correct highway and head in a specific direction. He was surprised it was such a tiny community. Located at the base of the mountain its business district was comprised of one street, flanked by a number of vintage log cabins long since converted for commercial use. The village appeared to have just one gas station and one restaurant. According to Kevin, it was typically a summer destination, and Brady wondered about the people who lived in the village fulltime. Apparently, Kevin’s cousin was one such resident, but he had no intentions of meeting her.
Locating the cabin was proving more challenging than finding the village. The directions were comprised of a long series of turn right, left and right again on winding mountain roads. Brady pulled over to the side of the desolate street and stopped for a moment to take out the directions Kevin had given him. He opened the piece of paper, read it and then tossed it on the passenger seat.
Not only were the wipers having a difficult time clearing away the snow but the Jeep’s heater was not keeping the cab warm. It had stopped producing hot air about fifteen minutes after leaving the diner. Grabbing a coat from the back seat, he slipped it on before starting back down the road.
The amount of snow falling increased substantially and appeared to be coming down faster and faster. Brady slowed the Jeep and leaned closer to the windshield, looking down the road through a thick curtain of snowfall. He squinted, having a difficult time seeing beyond the icy glass. The scraping sound of the wipers filled his ears, but beyond that, it seemed oddly silent. The radio had stopped working thirty minutes earlier, and he turned it off when the only sound coming from the speakers was static-laden music.
It had been about fifteen minutes since he’d pulled out of the village, and so far he hadn’t seen another car. He passed several cabins along the way, yet they all seemed to be vacant. Shivering, he chewed his lower lip nervously, starting to feel a bit uneasy. The road was getting steeper, and already, snow covered the asphalt. The persistent snowfall hampered his vision, making it difficult to read the road signs.
He reached out and again fumbled with the heating controls. Placing his hand over the vent, he cursed and wondered why he couldn’t feel warm air. Glancing at the speedometer and noting the mileage, he estimated he had passed the last cabin about a mile or more back. The road was getting steeper, and he knew his next turn was up ahead, perhaps after he reached the top of the incline.
The Jeep was having a problem getting up the icy road. Pressing his foot harder on the gas pedal, the engine made a revving noise, but instead of going forward, it stayed in place, its tires making a painful spinning sound. Brady cringed, realizing he hadn’t put the vehicle in four wheel drive.
The previous day, Kevin had given him instructions on how to put the Jeep in four-wheel drive, but Brady couldn’t remember what to do. Had he not been so cold or didn’t feel as if he was being smothered under a mountain of snow, he might have remembered. He felt the car slipping backwards down the hill, and panic set in. Frantically, he slammed his foot on the brake and then on the gas pedal.
His erratic gyrations actually got the Jeep moving up the hill again, and when he reached the top, where the road took a dip, he abruptly hit the gas petal, sending the Jeep wildly out of control. The tires hit a patch of black ice, and helplessly, Brady held tightly onto the steering wheel as the Jeep drove off the road into a snowy ditch, where it firmly planted itself.
After a few moments, he realized there was no way to get out of the ditch without four-wheel drive. Still unable to recall the instructions, he pulled out his cell phone to call Kevin. He felt foolish for having to ask, but he had no intentions of spending the day stuck in the snow.
“Whose fucking idea was a trip to the mountains in the middle of a blizzard?” Brady grumbled as he turned off the ignition. The only other sound in the vehicle was that of the windshield wipers, still moving back and forth, while snow covered the Jeep.
“I don’t believe this!” Brady groaned when he realized he could not get cell service. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back for a moment. With the ignition turned off, he found the sound of the wipers scraping back and forth more annoying than before. Opening his eyes, he leaned forward and looked at the dashboard, searching for some way to turn off the wipers. He found it. Instantly, he was immersed in eerie silence.
Brady took a deep breath and told himself to stay calm; after all, it was just a little snow. If he had to, he could walk back to the last cabin he’d seen and use their phone to call for a tow truck. It was only about a mile back, and he should be able to handle that easily, even with the storm.
He tried one more time to put the Jeep in four-wheel drive without success. He wondered if the cell phone might work down the road a bit. Perhaps he was just in a dead zone. The boots he was wearing were warm enough and comfortable to walk in, but they weren’t waterproof. He hadn’t intended to go trudging around in the snow, so he had not had Kevin purchase snow boots.
Reaching around to the back seat, he opened his suitcase and took out a sweatshirt. He removed his jacket, and slipped the sweatshirt on over his shirt. He then put his jacket back on, zipping up its front.
Since he didn’t have any gloves, he grabbed a pair of dry socks for his hands and was tempted to slip a second pair on his feet, but was afraid that would make his shoes too tight and uncomfortable. He cursed himself for not bringing a warm cap, and then looked at the blond wig. Giving a shrug, he grabbed the wig and fit it on his head. Before opening the door, he slipped the cell phone in his jacket pocket.
Outside the Jeep, he was greeted with wet, slushy snow instead of dry powder. Walking from the Jeep’s position in the snow-filled ditch to the road proved more challenging than he expected. By the time he reached the snow-covered pavement, his pants were drenched from the knees down.
Determine to head back down the road in the direction from which he came, he discovered walking downhill and staying erect was nearly impossible. His right foot misstepped, sending him tumbling backwards onto the road. Sprawled helplessly on his backside, his arms extended outward, he looked like someone preparing to make a snow angel. With great effort, he managed to stand back up on his feet, yet now, not only was the lower portion of his pants legs wet, so was the fabric covering his buttock and the back of his jacket.
The fall had shifted the wig to an odd angle, but in his discomfort, he failed to notice and did not straighten the head covering. The socks on his hands were now soaking wet, so he removed them and tossed them to the road. Shivering, he buried his hands in his coat pockets and started down the road again, determined to stay on his feet.
His determination was not enough to keep him firmly upright, and he landed twice more on his backside before reaching the bottom of the incline. Along the way he continually checked for cell phone reception, but found none.
Ella loved her Suburban. When she initially purchased the vehicle, her sister had teased her, asking why she wasn’t driving something sportier, like a Mercedes Coupe or BMW. As she made her way up the snowy mountain, she was happy to be driving the sturdy four-wheel drive vehicle.
It was a beautiful day, and she appreciated the snow. The first thing she would do when she reached her cabin was build a fire and put on a pot of homemade chili. Ella glanced down at the clock. It was a quarter to noon. She smiled and settled down in the car s
eat, enjoying the way the snow fell across the windshield. Ella thought it looked magical.
Sam was no longer sleeping, but was now looking out the window, sensing they were close to their destination. They’d already passed several cabins, and she could tell they were all vacant.
Just as she wondered about the rock star and if he had made it to the cabin before the snowstorm, she saw him staggering down the snow-laden road with the strange blond wig sitting cockeyed on his head. He walked zombie-like in her direction, as if he was unaware of the oncoming vehicle.
“Holy crap!” Ella shouted, causing Sam to pick up her ears and let out a little bark. It was obvious his Jeep had broken down. Where it was, she had no clue, but by the looks of him, he had been walking for a while, and if she didn’t get him warm and dry, he would catch pneumonia. Unfortunately, pneumonia was probably the least of his worries. Ella immediately thought of frostbite.
Ella sped up, pulled the Suburban alongside Brady, and put the vehicle in park. He stopped walking and looked at the car as if he was surprised at its sudden appearance. Ella leaned over the backseat, and opened the car door, ordering Brady inside the vehicle. She made a snap decision to put him in the back seat for the drive to her cabin. Sam would provide the foolish rock star necessary warmth.
Brady didn’t hesitate. He climbed into the backseat, and closed the door behind him. If Brady was afraid of the Australian shepherd sharing the seat with him, or annoyed with the dog’s persistent sniffing and nose-nudging, it wasn’t apparent by the way Brady immediately wrapped his arms around the furry dog, soaking up the canine’s warmth. Sam seemed to understand, and patiently endured the stranger’s manhandling.
While Snowbound (Sensual Romance Series) Page 3
