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“Looks like it’s slowing down a lot,” he says. “I imagine they’ll have the snow plows out in a couple of days. I can take you into town as soon as the roads are clear.”
He thought I was asking because I’m ready to leave. “I was wondering if I could sit out on the porch.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “The winds have died down a lot, so sure, if you don’t stay too long. There’s a couple of rocking chairs out there. Some extra quilts in the drawers under the bed, I think. You should bundle up.” He pauses and gives me a puzzled look. “It’s below zero out there. Hypothermia can set in after 10-15 minutes.”
“I won’t stay out long,” I promise. “I just want to feel the cold.”
He shakes his head and frowns, but he loops a thick scarf around my neck after I put on my coat and boots. He shoves his too big gloves on my hands when we’re standing at the door and then wraps me in a blanket. I’m about to step out, but he says, “Wait,” and pulls a beanie over my head. He apparently doesn’t think that’s good enough, because he also presses one of those fur-lined hats with the earflaps over the top of it.
“I’m not going to be able to move if you add anything else,” I tell him with laughter mingling with my words. “I feel like a stuffed bear.”
He flashes that beautiful grin at me and chuckles. “You’re too little to be a bear; maybe a chipmunk.” He tugs on the ear flaps again. “Stay warm, little chipmunk.”
He almost closes the door, but I feel him watching me through the open crack until I hobble over and plop into the closest chair. “15 minutes,” he calls out. “Or I’m coming to get you!”
“Oh, you’re the bear now.” I tease back.
He makes a loud growl and then pushes the door closed.
I’m still smiling a few minutes later when the cold starts to push at me. I learned the power of flirting a long time ago, but it’s always been a means to an end. This little bit of play was just... Fun. I want more of that in my life.
I struggle to pull the edge of the scarf farther up my chin to cover my mouth. The too-big gloves make it difficult, and I make a mental note to buy new gloves as soon as I can. I push the rocker just a little with the toes of my boots that barely touch the planks and let the chill settle around me.
I close my eyes and tip my face up to catch the bit of icy mist carried on the wind. I feel it sink into me, washing away all the wrong things I’ve done to survive, things I couldn’t tell James, things I didn’t ever talk about.
Chapter 10
~~ James ~~
I only make it ten minutes before I peek out to check on her. Her eyes are closed, and her head is tipped up. She rocks the chair slightly, so I know she’s still awake. I can’t see her mouth, but I can tell she’s smiling.
Her cheek must be feeling better. The swelling has decreased over the last 24 hours. The bruise is still a dark purple, but the edges are already turning that sickly green color bruises always fade into.
Another week, and it should be completely gone. She’s beautiful even all banged up, but I feel a strange bit of sadness that I won’t get to see her completely healed.
I ease the door closed and pace the few steps across the kitchen and back again, knowing I promised her five more minutes. Then I realize I’m being ridiculous and scoff at myself. I force myself to round the corner and sit down with my book. Rusty pads over and bumps my leg with his nose, then wanders off. I hear him scratch at the back door and give a little whine.
“Four more minutes,” I tell him. I try to focus on the chapter, but I give up when I realize I read the same line over and over again.
Rusty comes back to the chair and stares at my face. He’s clearly disturbed that she’s outside. “Three minutes.” I tell him. He cocks his head sideways and makes a low growly sound. “I know.” I say. “Seems crazy to me, too.”
The next two minutes tick by second by second. I tell myself I’m worried about hypothermia, not missing her quiet presence.
When I finally get up, Rusty bounds for the door, shooting out ahead of me. I deliberately make the door opening loud, so I don’t surprise her. When her face turns toward me, I see her eyes crinkle up with a smile, so I make growling sounds and stomp out the door.
She lets out a shriek and stands up like she’s going to run. “It’s a bear,” she yells. She pretends another scream, and I scoop her up and swing her in a circle. She’s laughing and still fake screaming, so I growl some more and act like I’m going to bite her. Rusty is jumping up and down next to us, and when she looks over at him, she gets a hefty lick on her other cheek. Then she laughs even harder.
I carry her back inside and toss her on the bed. We’re both still laughing. She pushes herself up, yanks off the hat, and throws it at me. “Get back, bear!”
I catch it in midair. The beanie comes flying at me next. I catch the gloves one at a time, growling louder. Rusty is jumping on and off the bed, barking at us both. I try to juggle everything into one hand, and her coat hits me dead in the face. Lorelai breaks out in peals of laughter, and I’d do anything to keep her laughing.
I drop everything and stomp over to the bed. I grab the edges of her scarf, still growling. “Bet you’re a tasty chipmunk.” I pull the scarf and lean down like I’m going to bite her, but her face tips up at the same time and I misjudge the distance.
Our mouths touch and everything stills. All sound disappears. Only her mouth exists. Her lips are cool under mine, still slightly open with laughter. My tongue dives in on its own, and there’s a second of panic. I shouldn’t— Her tongue flicks softly, the friction against mine like fiery sizzles from a Fourth of July sparkler, and whatever I was thinking blurs away.
I feel her hands slide across my shoulders and one moves to press behind my neck. The edges of the scarf fall from my hands, and I wrap my arms around her waist, lifting her closer. Her tongue gets bolder, and I’m suddenly starving for the taste of her.
I pillage her mouth, and she is like frosted berries, cool at first, then warming and melting. I suck her tongue farther into my mouth. Her teeth scrape my lip and that sends a dark shiver straight to my cock. I press her body against me, and her softness melds to fit my shape.
