MINE: Fury Riders MC

by Sophia Gray

  Moving along, I made my way to the back room. It was a bedroom, as expected, and was actually pretty nice. It seemed a little dusty or at least had that feeling of disuse. Like this room needed to be aired out before guests stayed here or anything like that.

  It was decorated like the rest of the cabin, with that rustic charm tourists were always expecting from little cabin getaways like this. There was a single king-sized bed pushed against one wall with a bedside table on either side of it. It was made neatly with several embroidered throw pillows that half matched the quilted blanket laid over the top of the mattress, colored in that red plaid that always reminded me of lumberjacks. The tables looked like they might have been handcrafted—or prepressed to look that way. There was a chest of drawers and a vanity across from the bed against the other wall. The mirror was ornate if a little small and the drawers beneath it were long with tarnished brass handles. There was one window at the very back of the room, wide so there was a nice view of the trees in the back, and on the opposite wall right next to the doorway where I stood was a closet.

  I briefly looked around, moving pillows and blankets and checking in drawers for something I could use before moving to look inside the closet. There were several shelves and space to hang clothes. I was about to close the door and accept that I was just going to have to risk going without anything when I noticed that in the bottom of the closet on the floor was a basket. It was woven and looked like it was either a Christmas decoration or a prop for Little Red Riding Hood. I would have ignored it and been on my way if I hadn’t spotted some bright red yarn balled up and sitting prettily in the basket.

  Yes! I thought triumphantly. That was exactly what I was looking for!

  With my prize in hand, I abandoned that back room and headed back to the main room in the front. I checked on my sleeping friend once more; he still seemed the same, unconscious, but otherwise all right. Then I made sure the fire was going strong; it was. Satisfied, I braved the outside once more.

  I closed the door tightly behind me, but made sure I had the key in my pocket, then I tied one end of my string to the porch. I began the trek back to my car. It seemed longer than I remembered, but maybe that was because I hadn’t been wading through snow up to my waist the night before. It took me a little bit, but I found my car and I was right. It was completely buried. The only reason I found it was because of the antenna sticking out of the snow, the little ribbon I’d tied to it hanging limply at the tip of it.

  “Damnit,” I cursed, my voice sounding much louder thanks to all of the snow.

  I sighed. There was no way I was getting my car out of this I realized quickly. Still, I made my way to the car and tied my string to the antenna, the only part really visible. That way I would be able to find it easily again if I had to come back out.

  Shaking my head a little at all of the bad luck I’d been having the last twenty-four hours, I headed back, following the red string I had tied between my car and the cabin.

  When I got back to the cabin, I was freezing. I stomped my boots at the door to knock off some of the snow, but my pants were soaked and so was the hem of my sweater. I knew I had to change out of my wet clothes unless I wanted to get sick, but didn’t have a lot to change into. I eyed the man still lying on the couch.

  I could strip and lay them over the fire to dry, I thought, weighing the wisdom of being more or less naked in front of him. He was asleep, but he could wake up whenever.

  Or I could try to find something to wear back in that closet. I’d found some quilts and things before; maybe they had sweats or something, too.

  Deciding that was definitely the right move to make, I slipped off my boots and my wet socks, then headed down the hall in search of dry clothes. As soon as I left that main living room, I was freezing all over again. Holding my jacket around me to try to hold onto some of the warmth, I went into the hall and dug through the linen closet. I found those sheets again and figured I could use them to wrap up in if I had to, but I was really hoping for real clothing. I took them along with me as I made my way into the bedroom.

  I looked in that same closet, hoping that the knitting stuff also meant there might be some finished knitting projects. It was a long shot, but it paid off. I was pleased to see a stack of three neatly folded sweaters.

  “Thank God,” I muttered, then snatched them all up.

  I headed back to the room quickly and headed to the fireplace. I began to shuck off my clothing as quickly as possible and hung them over the gate around the fireplace in hopes that some of it would dry. With any luck, I wouldn’t be stuck in an oversized sweater when the guy woke up.

  When I’d taken off everything—panties, shirt, bra—I slipped one of the sweaters on top of me and settled as close to the fireplace as I could get. I still felt chilled to my bones, but the fire was beginning to help me thaw. I had my hands held out to the fireplace when I heard the voice behind me.

  “What…where are we?”

  I nearly jumped out of my skin, my eyes going wide as I spun around to face the man who had been sleeping since we’d arrived last night. “Oh my God! You scared me half to death!”

  I watched as he struggled to push himself up into a sitting position. He was clearly still sore and was probably feeling kind of weak still since he’d only taken a couple of bites of stew the night before, but otherwise he seemed like he was doing okay. I watched as the blanket fell from his chest, exposing the thin fabric of his t-shirt to my eyes. I didn’t mean to, but my gaze dipped to the plains of his chest, slipping over the hard muscles there.

  Jerking my gaze back up to his face, hoping he hadn’t noticed my sudden distraction, I smiled at him. “You’re awake. You really had me worried there for a minute.”

  When he managed to sit up completely, he took a moment to take in our surroundings—log cabin, covered windows, the couch, and finally the fire where I sat warming my hands in nothing but some oversized sweater that smelled like mothballs. I suddenly flushed, realizing I didn’t have pants.

  So much for the dry before he wakes up thing, I thought, embarrassment washing through me.

  His eyes lingered on me, not the fire, and seemed to smolder like the embers I’d found in the fireplace this morning. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his expression an unreadable mask, but I noticed his full lips tug into the faintest of frowns. Did he not like what he saw?

  Not that it matters, I reminded myself haughtily. He was a stranger. We were together only due to circumstance. It didn’t matter in the least if he found me attractive.

  Still, the idea that he didn’t stung a little bit.

  “What happened?” he asked finally.

  I shook my head. “Well, I was driving home to…” I was about to explain all about my parents and why I’d dallied so long before getting on the road and how I’d gotten caught in the storm, but decided he didn’t want to hear all of that crap so I jumped ahead. “I found you in that ditch. Wouldn’t have seen you if I hadn’t been trying to get a signal on my cell.” I motioned towards my phone that was sitting on the table by the door. It was dead and useless. “I thought you were dead, but then you moved and I got you in my car. I pulled off at the first turn I could find. You were in really bad shape.” I fell silent, waiting for…something. An explanation, maybe? Just something to fill in his side of the night.

  He took in my story for a moment, then said, “Thank you. I guess I owe you a lot.”

  I smiled, feeling my cheeks warm even further. “Of course. I mean, it was definitely no problem. I’m just glad I found you.” I winced at how that sounded. Like I was in some romance novel and he was my romantic lead. “I mean, in time. I found you in time. You know, before something bad happened.” His eyebrows rose and I noted his bruises again. “Worse. Before something worse happened, because obviously something bad already happened and—”

  I was rambling. Bad rambling. All over the place rambling. I felt that generally speaking I did pretty well with people. I was upbeat a
nd fairly likeable, everyone told me so, and usually I didn’t have a problem with social engagements. Hanging out with people? No problem. Meeting new people for the first time? Got it under control. But throw me in what basically amounted to a one-room cabin with a dark and gorgeous stranger while I sat in nothing but an oversized sweater? Apparently that was not a situation I handled well.

  I heard the man laugh a little at me, then cough to cover it up. He cleared his throat then and said, “Right. And does my pretty rescuer have a name?”

  Pretty? My mind immediately latched onto that word and ran with it. It worked overtime to create these elaborate scenarios of him drawing me to him, brushing away my hair, telling me I was gorgeous, picture perfect, whatever. And then he would kiss me and hold me tightly to his chest until I felt like—

  My face must have turned red from his compliment and the fantasy, but I hoped he didn’t notice. Or at least that he thought it was from the fire or something. Yeah right. Combing my fingers through my tangled, still slightly damp hair, I smiled at him and said, “Um, it’s Elle. Elle Finney.”

  His eyes flickered, then he smiled a little. “Ciaran O’Connor.”

  Ciaran. Finally, I had a name for my enigmatic stranger. I thought instantly that the name suited him. It had a powerful, almost dangerous ring to it, but it was sexy, too. Which just so happened to also describe him perfectly.

  “It’s nice to meet you finally, Mr. O’Connor.”

  His smile widened slightly, turning into a knowing smirk, and I suddenly had the very real impression that he knew I thought he was sexy. “Call me Ciaran, please. And, really, the pleasure is all mine.”

  A shudder went through me. Not fair! No way was a cliché like that allowed to get me all hot and bothered! Before I had to struggle and find something to say to that, Ciaran shoved off the blanket I’d thrown across him and swung his feet to the floor. “Is the storm still bad?” he asked, glancing uncertainly at the covered window.

  I shook my head. “Um, no. It’s still coming down a little, but the wind has died down and the snow is pretty light at the moment.”

  At my statement, he nodded and pushed himself to a standing position. When he swayed like he might crumple back down, I leapt to my feet and hurried over to him. By the time I reached him, he had already steadied himself, but I reached for him anyway. I put a hand on his arm to steady him. “Take it easy!” I scolded him. “You were running a really high fever last night and you were in bad shape when I found you. Don’t push yourself.”

  I half expected him to shake me off, because he looked like the kind of man who didn’t want to take any sort of help from the likes of me. But instead he just looked down at where my hand touched his bare skin just beneath his shirtsleeve. I noticed a twining Celtic knot tattoo on his bicep where I was touching and beneath that what looked to be one of those old Celtic crosses on his forearm.

  Pulling back my arm, I shook my head. “Sorry. Just…just take it easy, okay?”

  He took a moment to study me. I felt his gaze on me, stirring up something inside me that I would have to write off as hormones or something along those lines. “There’s no time for that,” he finally said to me, his voice that low, gravelly sound that sent shivers through me that I couldn’t help.

  I looked at him inquisitively, then frowned. “What do you mean? No time to take it easy?”

  He stepped away from me and I jerked towards him automatically, worried he was going to take a tumble or something, but he seemed steady. Or like he was working really hard to be steady. “Look, I’ve got something important to take care of. We need to get out of here. Is your car outside?”

  I blinked at him. My car? Oh, yeah, it was outside. Outside and buried in what might as well be a cave in given the huge amount of snow piled on top of it. “Um, well, technically, yes,” I started, but didn’t get the chance to really say more than that.

  He nodded at me, then stalked towards the door.

  I watched him go and noted the rippling muscles along his back and shoulders as well as his firm rear end. I shook myself free from my distraction and hurried towards him. “But you can’t get to it!”

  He spared me a glance as he noticed the stack of sweaters I’d brought with me from the back room. He looked through them, not really caring for them it would seem, but he found the larger of the two and slid it over his firm upper body. A sweater probably shouldn’t have looked good on him, but this one did. It was a dark forest green color and made his eyes really pop. I doubted he appreciated it in the same way I did.

  “Seriously,” I pressed, trying to make him understand. “My car is buried in the snow out there! And even if you can dig it out, it probably won’t start. It’s a real piece of crap.”

  His eyebrows rose in question at that, but he ignored the piece of crap part. “We really need to head out and that car is our best shot at it.”

  I frowned. Why is he so eager to leave? I was about to ask him—because really what was this thing that was so damn important that he wanted to unbury my piece of crap car—but he spoke again before I got the chance.

  “Besides, this storm’s probably going to get bad again tonight. If we wait to try to dig it out there’ll only be more snow tomorrow.”

  I frowned. That was probably very true. Although the snow was soft and light now, there was no guarantee it would stay that way all day and night. And even if it did, that still meant snow was falling down on my car steadily, if not heavily. He was right, though I still didn’t think he should have been going out there to try to dig up my car. “Okay, then maybe we should check the front office and see if there’s a phone—”

  But he’d already turned around and was pulling open the door. Instantly, a rush of cold air slid over me. My legs were still bare so I shivered as gooseflesh trembled across them. Ciaran glanced back at me. “Get back by the fire. Warm up. You’re wearing practically nothing.” His eyes flashed as they raked up my body, clothed only in that damn sweater.

  A shiver ran through me and it wasn’t because that door was open. Instead, it was one of warmth and pleasure. “Um, are you sure—”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be back in a little bit.” He smiled and it was just as sexy as the rest of him. “Get warm.” Then he turned and left.

  I called after him about the string that would lead him to the car, then accepted that it didn’t matter in the slightest what else I told him. He was determined to dig out that car.

  I wasn’t expecting him to be so eager to leave me, I thought, feeling a little hurt. Which was silly. Of course he wanted to get home. Wherever that was. I was sure he had a thousand things going on back there and needed to get back to them. Especially since it was so close to Christmas in the first place. He probably had a family or something waiting for him.

  I frowned. A family? Was he married? Kids? I didn’t think so. I hadn’t seen a ring or anything on his finger, but maybe he’d been mugged and his ring taken. Or what if he was a mechanic or something and just didn’t wear it for safety reasons? He looked like the kind of guy who was comfortable doing hard and gritty work.

  “Which is not sexy,” I murmured to myself. “Definitely not sexy.”

  Not that I believed myself in the least. I closed the door, but pulled back my makeshift curtains slightly so I could look out the window. I watched as Ciaran followed the red string towards my car, which I now realized was a lot closer than I had thought it was. I could actually see it from the window, though it was just barely. Ciaran struggled through the snow, widening the path I’d used earlier. When he reached the car, he began swiping at the snow on top of it with bare hands.

  I winced. That couldn’t feel good. It made me feel like my fingers were freezing just looking at it. I watched him, wishing he’d give up and come back inside, but he lingered there with my car, trying to desperately dislodge the snow covering it. He managed to get the hood clear and part of the windshield before I noticed that he was exhausted. He leaned heavily on the car and finall
y just fell back into the snow.

  “Ciaran!” I cried out. Furious, I grabbed my still wet boots and put them on without worrying about my pants, then jerked open the door. I raced out into the snow, immediately regretting not being fully dressed. But I didn’t go back. Instead, I pushed forward to get reach the car and Ciaran before we both froze out here in the damn snow.

  I got to him a few moments later. He’d slumped back into the snow and there was sweat on his brow.

  “Damnit, Ciaran,” I cursed as I helped him up. Thankfully he was still conscious, though he had to lean heavily against me as I began to lead him back through our trails in the snow. “If you have a fever again, I’m going to be really mad at you!” I threatened. I thought I saw him smile lightly, but I couldn’t be sure.

  We moved as fast as we could back to the cabin and I immediately began helping him out of his clothing. I jerked off his sweater and his shirt before I realized he was staring at me intently. I froze. His torso was exposed now, the hard muscles looking even better than I’d thought beneath that thin cotton shirt. I realized that I’d been frantically undressing him and blushed furiously at the thought.