'Tis the Season for Romance

by Kristen Proby

  “I have no doubt,” Nick says.

  “Hey, Jor,” Jeremy says. He reaches out to touch me, but I duck away. He scowls. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “I know that. Ever again. What’s up?”

  “Listen, I just wanted to come over and tell you that I’m happy for you. You’ve wanted to move home for a long time, and I’m glad to see you did it, and you’re moving on with your life.” He holds his hands out at his sides. “I’m just trying to do the same.”

  “Good.”

  “The thing is, with the court stuff going on, my security clearance is gone. You know I need that for my job, Jordan. I don’t mean you any harm. I’m just asking you to drop the charges so I can move on with my life.”

  I tilt my head to the side, watching him with clear eyes. I respond in a low voice, so all of Cunningham Falls doesn’t hear.

  “No. I won’t be dropping anything, Jeremy. You manipulated and controlled me for a long time, and I put up with it. That’s on me. But then you decided to put your hands on me. And I won’t stand for that. Maybe some inconvenience with the court, and your job, will teach you a needed lesson about bullying people.”

  Jeremy’s nostrils flare, and his lips flatten.

  His hands fist.

  But I don’t back down. This is an old scare tactic.

  “You don’t scare me,” I add when it appears that he’s waiting for me to change my mind.

  “You’re such a cold, ugly, skinny bitch,” he spits out before he steps forward, determined to get in my face.

  But Nick is fast and moves between us.

  “Before you make another move, you might want to see what kind of audience you have,” Nick says in warning.

  Jeremy looks over his shoulder to find Brad Hull, the chief of police, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, watching.

  “Problem?” Brad asks.

  “We’re just talking,” Jeremy says.

  Brad steps forward and gets within inches of Jeremy’s face. “I know all about you, Jeremy, remember? I also know there’s currently a restraining order against you, and you’re violating that. So, unless you want to land your ass in jail and add to those problems you’re already having with your job, I’m going to suggest you leave Jordan alone.”

  “Fucking bitch,” Jeremy sputters as he storms off.

  “If he so much as sends you a text message,” Brad says as he turns to me, “I want to know about it. I think I’ll pay him a visit tomorrow and strongly suggest he go back to Arizona. Have a nice evening.”

  Brad leaves us, and the crowd that stopped to listen disperses.

  Nick’s a tight ball of energy.

  “I’m fine,” I say and turn to him. “Hey, look at me.”

  His eyes meet mine.

  “I’m fine,” I say again. “And I handled it.”

  “Doesn’t mean I don’t still want to beat him bloody,” Nick says, but he sighs and takes my hand. “And, yes, you handled yourself beautifully. I’m proud of you for not backing down.”

  “I don’t like bullies,” I say with a shrug and do my best to brush it off and enjoy the rest of the evening. “Now, I need some kettle corn and maybe some cotton candy.”

  “I hate to mention this, for fear of losing my manhood, but didn’t you say you’ve outgrown your pants because of sweets?”

  “You heard me,” I reply with a smile. “I’m buying new pants. Let’s get some extra corn to take home.”

  Chapter 8

  ~Nick~

  It’s been a fucking cold week since the night of the stroll. Winter seemed to settle over Cunningham Falls and close a tight, frigid fist around us.

  I’ve been in the cold before, but twenty degrees below zero is just bloody ridiculous.

  Thankfully, I’ve spent the cold days inside with Jordan. We’ve settled into a routine, and that surprises me almost as much as the fact that I’m quickly learning that the prospect of being without her makes my gut ache.

  We have sex in the morning. And not just any sex. No, the best damn sex of my life. I only had to come all the way to Cunningham Falls, Montana, to find it. We share breakfast, and then I don’t see her for a few hours as she and I work out separately. She bakes, and I watch from my perch at the island. Sometimes, she twists my arm, and I help, but I prefer to watch her sure, small hands as they knead dough or scoop cookie batter out of a bowl and onto a pan. She’s told me stories about her family, about people here in town, and what it was like to grow up here. I’ve learned that she loves her job and can’t wait to finally find a full-time position here.

  She’s bloody fascinating. She’s been through some shite in her short life, and yet she’s as happy and optimistic as they come. I don’t get tired of her company. I certainly haven’t had enough sex with her. I can’t keep my bleeding hands off the woman.

  Not that she seems to mind. In fact, she initiates as often as I do. I haven’t found any areas that make us incompatible.

  This is new. Women don’t usually hold my interest for this long. In fact, call me a knob, but I can’t remember the last time I wanted to spend this much time in the company of a woman I wasn’t working for.

  There’s something different and alluring about Jordan. I can’t imagine being without her. And now that my shoulder has healed nicely, and I’m well on the way to recovery, I know our time together is short.

  I don’t want to think about it.

  A week after the winter storm began, and it seems we’re easing out of it a bit with slightly warmer temperatures. It’s not balmy, but it won’t freeze the nose off your face as soon as you step out, either.

  “Let’s go outside,” Jordan suggests, setting her iPad aside and clapping her hands. “It’s not too bad out there. We’ll bundle up and have some fun. We could make a snowman.”

  I raise a brow. God, she’s adorable.

  “Or we could just go for a walk,” she says. “Or, even better, I think there are inner tubes in the garage. They’re probably used for pulling behind a boat, but we can sled on them.”

  “You want to go sledding?”

  She never fails to surprise me.

  “Heck, yes. That slope down to the shoreline is perfect.”

  “And leads into the water.”

  She rolls her eyes. “It’s frozen, Nick. We can slide onto the ice. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  I want to strip that blue sweater off her delectable little body and consume her—

  “Unless you’re scared.”

  Well, then. That’ll have to wait because she just threw down the gauntlet.

  “Scared?”

  “You’re not, are you? Wait, is your shoulder bothering you? You’ve been doing so well, but if it’s bothering you, we can just stay in.”

  “The shoulder’s fine. I’m at about ninety-five percent.”

  “So, you’re scared, then.”

  I narrow my eyes and stand, and she watches me with humor written all over her gorgeous face.

  “No, sweetheart, I’m not scared.”

  “Awesome.” She jumps up and runs to the mudroom, where she starts to pile on layers. “It’s still pretty cold out, but we’ll get a few good runs in. The fresh air will feel fabulous.”

  “And then we’ll come inside, and I’ll warm you up.”

  “I was counting on it.” She winks and then shoves her feet into snow boots. “You can unwrap me from all this winter garb.”

  “Gladly.”

  When we’re clad in coats, boots, gloves, and hats, we set off into the garage to find the tubes. Luckily, they haven’t lost their air, and we’re ready to go.

  “Okay,” she says as she adjusts her hat. “Have you done this before?”

  “No.”

  She turns those big eyes up to me in surprise. “Never?”

  “No. But it looks pretty easy. Sit and slide, right?”

  “Yes. But, if you get into trouble, like you’re headed for a tree or something, just bail. Jump off. I wish we had a chair
lift, but we’ll have to hike back up.”

  “Good exercise.”

  She grins. “Ready?”

  “Sure.”

  She sits on her tube and sets off down the hill at a leisurely pace. When she reaches the bottom near the shoreline, she smiles up at me.

  “Come on down!” she calls out.

  Rather than sit, I dive onto the tube on my stomach and sail down the snow-covered slope, ending up just past her where the water has turned to ice.

  “I told you it’s frozen,” she says as she joins me and points to the middle of the lake. “It’s not out there. It’ll take another month for it to freeze all the way. But these edges are solid.”

  I examine the lake. I can see where the ice is thin, about thirty yards offshore.

  We’re safe here.

  “Let’s go again,” she says, already dragging her tube behind her up the hill. When we reach the top, she turns and smiles at me, and my gut clenches.

  “You’re beautiful, Jordan.”

  She swallows. “Thanks.”

  I cup her cheek and lean in to brush my nose across hers. “And you’re getting cold.”

  “Let’s go a couple more times. It’s not bad.”

  I touch her lips with mine. Softly. Just teasing her mouth. Her breaths come faster, but it’s not because of the hike up the hill.

  “I wonder if I’ll ever stop wanting you,” I whisper aloud. “Maybe you cast some kind of crazy spell on me.”

  “If I knew sledding would have this effect on you, we would have done it sooner.”

  I smile against her mouth.

  “Let’s have a healthy little competition.”

  “Okay, what are the stakes?”

  “Dinner. If I win, you cook.”

  “I’ll order in if you want.”

  “No, I want you to cook.”

  “Darling, you’ll go hungry.”

  She laughs and shakes her head. “The one to slide the farthest out onto the ice wins.”

  I eye her and the ice again. “I don’t know.”

  “It’s frozen,” she reminds me. “I used to do this all the time when I was a kid. Me first.”

  She plops right down on the tube and laughs as she slides down the hill, onto the ice. When she stops, she calls out to me, “Your turn!”

  I follow suit and come about ten feet short.

  “One more round,” she says. “If you beat me, we’ll have a tiebreaker.”

  We climb back up again, and I help her adjust her hat. Then she backs up toward the house.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting a running start,” she says and takes off running, then jumps onto the tube on her belly and sets off down the hill.

  Everything happens in slow motion. I can see that she’s going to slide out too far. She’s going to fall into the water.

  “Roll off!” I yell. “Jordan, roll off, goddamn it!”

  I’m already pulling the phone from my coat and running down the hill when, sure enough, she keeps skidding on the ice and goes out so far that she breaks through, splashing into the water with a loud yelp.

  And then she’s gone.

  I want to panic. Jesus Christ, she could die.

  Why did I agree to this?

  I immediately remember my training and slide into work mode.

  “911,” dispatch says into my ear.

  “Woman fell through the ice on the lake.” I give our location and Jordan’s name. “We need services now.”

  “I’m sending them,” she replies. “Do not go near her, sir. Our guys will be right—”

  I hang up and throw my phone aside, running on the ice. I slide down onto my belly as I get close and scoot to her.

  Her arms flail in the water. Thank God she’s not under the ice.

  “I’m here,” I call out. “I’m going to get you out.”

  “Nick,” she says before slipping back in.

  Jesus, I’ve never been so terrified in my life—even when I was shot.

  I slowly reach her. If I hurry and fuck this up, we’ll both end up in the water and die. That won’t do either of us any good.

  “Take my hand.”

  She’s tired.

  “Damn it, Jordan, take my hand. Come on, baby. I’ve got you.”

  She reaches up, and I slide her out of the water onto the ice. I want to stand and cradle her to me, but it’s too dangerous here.

  I manage to scoot us toward shore. I can hear the sirens in the air. Thank Christ, help is coming.

  “Stay awake, sweetheart.” When I’m sure we’re on solid ice, I pick her up and run with her toward the house. I have to warm her up. It’s too fucking cold out here. She’ll die of hypothermia.

  “So cold,” she says, her lips already blue and teeth chattering.

  “I know. We’re going to warm you up. Do you hear that? Help is coming. I’ve got you, baby.”

  As I crest the hill, I see the firetrucks and ambulance pull into the driveway.

  “I’m taking her inside,” I announce to the crew as they jump out of the vehicles to join me. “She’s too cold.”

  They follow me in, and we immediately start stripping her out of the wet clothes. Her breathing is shallow, her skin turning bluer. I reach for two of the throw blankets on the couch and wrap them around her.

  “How long was she in the water?” I glance up to see Sam Waters, a friend of Liam’s, beside me.

  “Two minutes, maybe three.”

  He’s taking her vitals, his lips set in a grim line. “She’s going into shock. We need to get her to the hospital.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  He just nods, and I watch as they quickly strap Jordan to a gurney and wheel her into the ambulance. I jump in with them and hold her hand as we set off for the hospital.

  “Come on, baby, you have to wake up. We need you awake.”

  “So tired,” she murmurs and slips into sleep.

  “Her blood pressure is dropping,” Sam says. “We need to warm her the fuck up.”

  I strip out of my coat, open my flannel shirt, and join her on the cot, giving her my body heat as Sam places a reflective blanket over us both.

  “That’ll do until we get to the hospital and get her a heated blanket,” Sam murmurs.

  “Pulling in now,” someone says over the speaker into the back.

  We’re bustled inside. I refuse to leave the gurney until we’re in a room, and nurses come hustling in with heated blankets and physically nudge me aside.

  Someone wraps one of the blankets around my shoulders as well, but I ignore it.

  She has to be okay.

  “Her vitals are looking better,” the doctor says as he listens to her breathing. “If you hadn’t gotten to her so quickly, things could have been very different.”

  “Never been so frightened in my life,” I mutter and push my hand through my hair, then wince in pain.

  “What’s wrong?” the doctor asks.

  “I had a shoulder injury. I must have wrenched it a bit when I climbed the hill with her.” I shake my head. “I’m fine. Just worry about Jordan.”

  “We’re going to keep her for a few hours and make sure her vitals continue to level out. We’ll get some fluids in her and monitor her. You can stay with her if you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  I stand back as the nurses start an IV, trade the blankets for fresh, warm ones, and I turn to see Sam standing in the doorway.

  “I just wanted to check on her.”

  “Sam,” Jordan says.

  We both turn to find her smiling at us.

  “It should be illegal to have that much hotness in one room.”

  Sam smirks. “Stop swimming in winter, okay?”

  “Accident,” she says, and her eyes droop closed. “Nick saved me.”

  “What am I, chop suey?” Sam says. He reaches out and rubs her foot. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “Call my mom, okay?”

  “Will do.” He
turns to me. “Old family friends. It’s a small town.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I reply. “Thank you.”

  Sam nods. “I’ll see you later.”

  He leaves, and I sit next to Jordan, then take her hand in mine and kiss her cold fingers.

  “I know you said you like to be cold, but this is taking things too far,” I say.

  “Yeah, I’m a drama queen.” She smiles up at me. Her skin isn’t so blue anymore. Her eyes look tired, but they’re clear.

  I feel myself breathe for the first time since she took off on that tube.

  Chapter 9

  ~Jordan~

  I’ve never been so cold—or scared—in all my life.

  “I think our sledding days are over,” Nick says. He’s kissing my hand like it’s his lifeline. “We’ll stick with snowmen.”

  “I’m okay.” I squeeze his hand. “Honest. I’m feeling much better.”

  “I’m not,” he admits and closes his eyes. He has dark circles under them, and he looks as if he’s been awake for days. “You took ten years off my life.”

  “Hey, I really am okay. I’m warming up. We’ll be back at the house before you know it.”

  He leans in and presses his lips to my cheek. “If you ever pull something like that again, I’ll spank your arse red.”

  “Well, that’ll warm a girl up. Who knew I was into spanking?”

  His lips twitch, but he doesn’t smile.

  “I’ve been through a lot of shite,” he says. “From watching men die, to fishing royalty out of a lake, to being shot myself.”

  “I know.” I drag my fingers down his cheek, over the stubble there. He hasn’t shaved in a few days. “I didn’t know I’d go out that far. I’m sorry, Nick.”

  He sighs deeply, and his shoulders sag.

  “Did I hear you say you hurt your shoulder?” I ask. “And don’t you dare lie to me.”

  “It’s sore. Ask me how many fucks I give.”

  “I give fucks, Nick. I’m supposed to keep you from getting hurt. Not getting you hurt. Or something like that.”

  “All that matters is that you’re safe,” he says and brushes my hair off my face. “Those men saw you mostly naked, so now I have to kill them all.”