Snowed in with the Cowboy

by Maisey Yates

They shared the same house all the time. There would be nothing significantly different about sharing a room for a couple of hours.

  Tanner pushed the door open and the two of them walked in and then Chloe stopped cold.

  The furniture was made from natural wood, large pieces of trees that seemed to be twisted into shapes. But the largest, heaviest-looking piece of furniture was the massive bed that dominated the room.

  The only bed.

  Chloe looked over at Tanner, and for just one moment she was certain that she saw heat blazing in his eyes.

  CHAPTER THREE

  TANNER WAS ABOUT to throw his bag through the window down to the snow below, and follow it with his body. This was getting out of control. He was going to be snowed in, in this tiny room that had one bed, with Chloe. Overnight. With all that inappropriate attraction that lived inside him, deep and dark and shameful.

  At least, it should be shameful.

  Rather than giving him any pleasure. Rather than making him feel...

  He should’ve gotten laid before they left Gold Valley. He should’ve gotten laid a long time ago.

  He looked over at Chloe, who seemed serene.

  That was the other damned ridiculous part of all this. It wasn’t like Chloe had any idea her older stepbrother was lusting after her like a pervert.

  None of this probably seemed weird to her. They shared the same house. This probably seemed completely normal to her.

  To him it was all about the space surrounding them. Or the lack of it.

  There wasn’t enough space here. There weren’t enough walls.

  “I’ll take the floor,” he said, walking in past her.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said. “You don’t have to pay for the hotel room and then gallantly take the floor.”

  “I’m not being gallant.” She had no idea. “I’m being practical. Anyway. When I go hunting I’m more than happy to sleep in my truck, or in the bed of it if I want to stretch out. I don’t have any issue with a hard surface.”

  She looked at him, her expression bordering on being so bland it had to be intentional. “What makes you think I do?”

  “You’re a woman,” he said, through gritted teeth. “I’m being chivalrous.”

  Much to his surprise, Chloe rolled her eyes. If there had been a foot stomp involved he wouldn’t have been surprised. “Oh, because I’m a woman?”

  “Yes,” he returned. He slammed the room door shut behind them, trying not to be too conscious of the fact that it seemed to make the air a hell of a lot thicker.

  “It’s just that you introduced me as your sister downstairs. I wasn’t sure that me being a woman factored into anything.”

  He frowned. “That bothers you?”

  “It doesn’t bother me,” she said, so huffily that it was clear that she was intensely bothered. “It’s just that I’m not your sister.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “You called me your sister.”

  “You’re my stepsister. It’s close enough.”

  “Except your father died. He died and our parents aren’t married because he died.”

  He gritted his teeth. “I’m well aware that my father died, Chloe, you don’t have to repeat it four times.”

  “Well, me, too,” she said, looking ferocious. “I loved your father. I did. He was the only father that I ever knew. And it’s not... I’m not minimizing that. But I’m just saying.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re saying,” he said, choosing to ignore her now that she was in such an unreasonable mood.

  He was the one that should be in a mood. He was the man stuck sleeping on the floor for the night. He was the man who had increasingly inappropriate thoughts about the woman he was trapped in a room with overnight.

  “I’d better call Jackson,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing his brother angrily.

  Chloe was staring at him, her eyes luminous. And he didn’t want to analyze what they might be illuminated with.

  “Hello?” His brother answered on the first ring. “What’s up?”

  “Chloe and I are stuck in town,” he said. “Not Gold Valley. Granite Ridge. The tunnel is blocked behind us and the mountain pass is closed, so we can’t get up to the cabin tonight.”

  “Hell. What are you going to do?”

  “We got a place at some lodge,” he said. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Well, I hope you can make it up,” Jackson said. “We’re going to have burgers tonight.”

  “We are not making it up tonight. The snow was falling heavy down here.”

  “Damn,” Jackson said. “I was hoping that maybe it was just that thick up here.”

  “Apparently not. Apparently, the forecast snowstorm finally came through, and it’s making up for all the years it didn’t.”

  “Well, that’s damned inconvenient.”

  “You’re telling me. But it looks like there’s food around here, so it isn’t like we’re going to starve.”

  “As long as you’re not stranded by the side of the road,” Jackson said. “When you didn’t turn up yet I was getting kind of worried.”

  “We should have left earlier. Who knew.”

  “Well, hopefully we’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  “Yeah,” Tanner agreed as he ended the call.

  He and Chloe didn’t speak at all for a while. She was practically snarling around the room, placing her bag in various locations around the space, each and every movement trailing a spark of irritation behind it that he could almost taste.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said. “I’m just agitated.”

  For some reason, the cranky look on her face reminded him of the first time he’d seen her. She’d been about twelve years old and suspicious as hell of the new situation she seemed to find herself in. At that point in time Tanner had been around home as little as possible, life much more interesting when he was fishing with friends, drinking beer and hooking up whenever he could.

  But Chloe had seem to find a connection with his father that he never had, and she seemed to relish her position on the ranch in a way that Tanner had been vaguely envious of.

  And ultimately, there had been something about the way she’d responded to the ranch, the horses, that had given him a kind of new appreciation for a place he had always taken for granted.

  Seeing it all through new eyes.

  Something about the way that her interacting with horses had transformed her, from a wary, angry creature into one that smiled and laughed.

  He had always been around horses, and he hadn’t understood the different kinds of healing they could bring. He had taken it all for granted. The sky, the mountains and the security of having a house to grow up in.

  His life had always had a thread of insecurity, since his mother had left the family. Since his father had rotated stepmothers through his life, unable to connect with them, unable to connect with his kids.

  But the ranch had been home. It had been stable and sturdy and real.

  He had learned something from watching Chloe flourish. The importance of the place. The importance of a place. Of home and belonging. And what it could do when you found a place that fit you.

  Watching her on the ranch had made him understand just how much it was that place for him.

  And then later, watching her had been about something else entirely. Whether he could put a pin in that place on his life’s map or not, it existed. That moment when he’d looked at her and realized...

  And realized they might fit together.

  She was right. She wasn’t his sister.

  And he was so much more painfully aware of that than she had any idea.

  “Let’s get something to eat,” he said, needing to get out of the enclosed
space, needing air that wasn’t tangled up with Chloe’s scent. “I noticed a diner across the street from the general store. We might as well get some sustenance.”

  “Good point,” she said.

  She looked at him, as if she was daring him to make some kind of comment about the situation, and he had no idea what in hell comment she wanted.

  So he ignored it. Ignored the challenge on her face and walked over to the door, stuffing the hotel key as far into his pocket as it would go, the wood keychain draping over the edge. “Let’s go,” he said, holding the door open.

  “Okay,” she said.

  They marched out the door, back down the stairs and passed the front desk, which now had a line of people who were looking more than a little bit upset, and who sounded like they were making arrangements to pay reduced fees to sleep in the lobby.

  “I guess it could be worse,” she said.

  He was seriously considering bunking down in the lobby, now that those people had had the idea.

  “I guess so,” he said instead of voicing his thought.

  When they went outside, things had changed even just in the twenty minutes or so they had been up in the room. The snow was falling more heavily, and the parking lot was now cluttered with cars. The road was so covered with snow that Tanner figured they were probably better off walking.

  Chloe echoed his thoughts a moment later. “We might as well just walk.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Might as well.”

  They trudged down the snowy road, the only two people that seemed to be out and about right then. The road was lined with tall pine trees that were shrouded in a thick layer of snow that had fallen on top of the branches. The wood all around them groaned with the weight of it, the smell in the air fresh and snappy, mingling with the cold air that bit against his skin.

  “I loved snow when I was a kid,” he said. “And now, it usually just bugs me.”

  “I guess that’s being an adult,” Chloe pointed out.

  “I guess. I don’t necessarily like having to get out and work in it, that’s for sure.”

  “I don’t mind so much,” Chloe said. “But then, I didn’t necessarily like the snow when I was a kid. Growing up, we never lived in one place very long, but a lot of times there wasn’t really anywhere to play. And bad weather just meant being cooped up indoors. It didn’t snow much in Portland, but even when it did it wasn’t fun. Because the parking lot would get grimy almost immediately. Tires would just pack the snow down and make it icy, and everything was muddy.”

  “It must’ve been a big change for you. Moving from Portland out to Gold Valley.”

  “It was. But I loved it. I was afraid to love it at first. Because I didn’t trust that it wouldn’t just be taken away from me. Everything in my life up to that point... My mom is wonderful. You know that. And she did her best, but she had bad taste in men for the longest time. Until she met your dad.”

  “It could definitely be argued that my dad is not the best example of good taste in men.”

  “They seemed happy, didn’t they?”

  “Yes,” he said slowly. “I suppose it’s all complicated.”

  “Relationships always are.” Chloe shrugged, and he looked over at her, trying to read her expression. “I mean, so I hear.”

  That was the problem with being as close in proximity as the two of them were. He knew full well that Chloe had never had a relationship.

  The very idea of it bothered him. Sent a streak of possessiveness through him. He didn’t know what the hell to do with that.

  “You know what else we used to do when we were kids in the snow?” he asked.

  He was looking for a subject change. One for himself. A way to shift the direction of his thoughts and get everything back in order.

  “What’s that?”

  He bent down, closing his hand around the heavy, wet snow, the cold making him regret the decision as soon as he did it.

  “Snowball fights.”

  Luckily, he didn’t hold onto the lump of snow for all that long. He let it fly, sending it in Chloe’s direction. She shrieked when the ball of snow hit her shoulder, broke apart and sprayed down beneath the collar of her jacket.

  “You’re a menace!”

  “I’m not so bad,” he said, keeping his tone and expression innocent.

  “You’ll pay,” she responded, bending down and picking up her own handful of snow.

  Tanner took off running down the fully empty street, and Chloe was giggling and shouting after him.

  When the snowball hit him, it was hard in between the shoulder blades, with a taste of vengeance buried in it. She had packed that tight before sending it his way.

  “Brat,” he said, turning around and starting to make another snowball. But Chloe had already packed together more, and he found himself assaulted as he attempted to replenish his ammunition. So he did the only sensible thing. He stood up and went straight for her, grabbing her around the waist and listening to her shriek as he flung them both down into a snow bank.

  “That was pointless!” She shouted. “Now we’re both wet.”

  “Worth it,” he said.

  The cold from the snow was sinking through his jeans, chewing on his knees, and suddenly he was very aware of Chloe’s warmth.

  Of the way her body fit snugly against his. He could feel how soft she was, even through the layers of her jacket and when she wiggled underneath him he let go of her like she was a live snake he’d pulled up out of the ground by mistake. He jumped up to his feet, gritting his teeth against the rising tide of desire in his system.

  He’d been trying to get back onto different footing. Talking about simpler times. Simpler memories. When they’d both been young, and she sure as hell had been too young for him to find attractive.

  But his walk down memory lane had ended up in one hell of a problematic snowbank.

  And he had no one but himself to blame.

  He had underestimated this thing that was growing inside of him. Taking root in his gut. It had existed in him for so long he’d thought it was handled in many ways. But this only proved to him that it was a hell of a lot closer to getting out of control than he’d imagined.

  “Let’s go,” he said, knowing that his tone was overly brisk, and not quite sure what he was supposed to do about it.

  “Okay,” Chloe said, sounding muted and a bit uncertain. He should say something to reassure her, but he didn’t have anything to say.

  He didn’t know how to fix this thing. Not even remotely. Didn’t know how to repair the damage that was settling between them. Mostly because he was afraid that if he tried to make amends he would only make it worse.

  Chloe hauled herself up out of the snowbank on her own steam, brushing herself off, and the two of them continued on silently down the snowy road.

  Every so often the new falling snow would disturb some of the snow that had settled on the branches and a large chunk of it would slide off, crashing down to the ground and breaking branches along the way. A testament to how wet and thick and horrendous the stuff was. Not a friendly powder, but a sodden blanket.

  The highway was completely covered now, the road totally empty. But the parking lot in front of the diner was bursting to overflowing, there were so many people out in front of the place. Tanner groaned.

  “Great.”

  “It looks busy,” she said.

  “It seems like we’re not the only people stuck in Granite Ridge.”

  “I bet not.”

  They made their way to the diner, and Tanner greeted a couple of people who freely offered up the information that landslides up ahead had made it difficult to get to Maverick River, and many of them had turned back on the way.

  “This is a shitshow,” he muttered as they wove through the people and inside.

  There was a hostess stan
ding there, looking very harassed. “I don’t have any tables,” she said. “And no, I can’t ask people to share with you. Because we’re already doing that. Every single chair and every single bit of space is occupied by a body already.”

  “Well, damn,” he said. “Do you at least have food?”

  “We’re making burger patties in bulk. So if you want something quick, I suggest you go with a cheeseburger with the fixings, and we can have that out to you pretty quick.”

  “We’ll take it,” he said. “And beer.”

  “I can send a bottle out with you. Because where you eat it isn’t my problem.”

  “Cheeseburger fine?” Tanner asked.

  “Fine by me,” Chloe responded.

  True to their word, the diner had the cheeseburgers out to them within fifteen minutes, along with an overflowing bag of French fries that he had a feeling was an apology.

  He took the burgers, and Chloe held the fries, nibbling on them as they waded back through the snow, heading toward the lodge.

  “This is insane,” she remarked, pulling a crunchy French fry off the very top of the bag and chewing it as they walked, each footstep of hers raising her up half a foot before she sank down into the white.

  Tanner just pressed through, his thighs aching with the effort, the snow seeping into his jeans.

  “Pretty insane,” he agreed.

  And he didn’t just mean the snowstorm and the ensuing crowd. But the way that everything had fallen into place just so, and his own idiocy in putting his arms around her.

  “It’s kind of...”

  She trailed off, and she didn’t continue. He waited, and she still didn’t go on.

  “It’s kind of what?”

  “Nothing,” she said.

  “Chloe, it’s something.” He really didn’t have the patience for her to be vague. He was on edge, and apparently not even freezing his balls off was enough to take the heat out of his veins right now.

  “I trailed off for a reason,” she said. “Because it was stupid. And not what I meant.”

  “Well, tell me what it was.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  He saw another opportunity to tease her, to make it light, and he took it. “It’s almost... Like the beginning of a horror movie and I’m going to get ax murdered and then you’re going to spend the rest of the day running around in the snow trying to escape a madman?”