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I blink rapidly, trying to clear the haze of desire still swirling in my mind. "Um... yeah. Yes, I am."
As Daisy leads me toward the exit, I risk one last glance over my shoulder. Stylz is still watching me, hands in his pockets, ignoring Wyatt’s apparent teasing.
"See you tomorrow," he calls out, the words carrying easily across the now-empty space—a reminder of our plans to prepare the remote cabin for the newlyweds.
Daisy shoots me a quizzical look, but I just shake my head and continue on, my heart thundering in my ears.
This is madness, this all-consuming desire for a man I barely know. For a life so different from everything I've worked toward. I can't seem to make myself put a stop to it, but the doubts gnaw at me. What if this is a mistake? What if I'm risking everything for a fleeting attraction?
Instead of embracing the heated awareness that simmers through my veins, I feel the weight of uncertainty. The unknown is both intoxicating and terrifying.
I try to build walls, to shut down the anticipation, but it's futile. The breathless wonder of what tomorrow might bring tugs at me, despite my fears.
Because something tells me that whatever this is between us, it’s far from over. Yet, I can't help but wonder if I'm ready for what lies ahead.
Chapter 5
Stylz
The first fat flakes of snow are just starting to drift lazily down as I pull up to the lodge. I tap my fingers against the steering wheel, my gut a roiling mess of anticipation and something a hell of a lot like nerves—an emotion I'm not all that familiar with.
Stylz Steele doesn't get flustered over a woman. At least, not usually.
But after everything that’s happened the last couple of days, I can't seem to shake Delilah from my mind. She's got me all riled up in a way no one has for a damn long time.
The crunch of boots on gravel snaps me out of my daze. I glance up to see Delilah striding toward the truck, all business in a sleek parka and snow pants that hug her lush figure. Her expression is set, determined, but there's an unmistakable tension in the line of her jaw that mirrors the knot in my own gut.
"Mornin', princess,” I greet her in an attempt to lighten the mood, to cut through the sudden thickness in the air between us.
But if anything, my greeting only seems to amplify the awkwardness.
Delilah's dark eyes meet mine for the briefest of moments before skittering away. "Morning." She offers a curt nod as she yanks open the passenger door and climbs in.
Clearly she's not in a chatty mood.
I shift the truck into gear and we peel away from the curb in silence, the only sound the crunch of tires over the rapidly accumulating snow. Delilah stares straight ahead, her jaw set, and I can practically feel the tension radiating off her in waves.
Neither of us wants to be the first to bring up the elephant in the cab—that heated, desperate make-out session from last night that had me aching to throw her over my shoulder and find the nearest flat surface. I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, my knuckles going white as flashes of memory assault me.
The taste of her lips, the little sounds she made as I pulled her flush against me, the delicious give of her body under my roaming hands...
I clear my throat roughly, forcing my mind back to the present as the first tendrils of arousal begin to stir low in my gut. Now's definitely not the time to be getting all worked up.
We hit the first stretch of winding mountain road, and I glance sidelong at Delilah as the snow starts falling harder, fat flakes obscuring the windshield.
"Looks like we're headed straight into the heart of this storm," I mutter, gripping the wheel a little tighter as we start gaining elevation. "You sure you wanna keep going?”
Delilah's response is immediate, her voice firm and unyielding. "Yes, we need to get the cabin ready for Daisy and Wyatt."
We lapse back into tense silence as I navigate the increasingly treacherous road, the truck's tires occasionally struggling for traction on the slick, snow-packed surface.
By the time we finally reach the turnoff for the secluded little cabin, I'm a bundle of nerves beneath my calm exterior. The snow is really coming down hard, and a glance at the truck's thermometer shows the temperature continuing to plummet with every mile we gain in elevation.
"You know," I begin as I downshift, guiding us up the steep, winding path, "maybe I should've brought the snowcat instead of—"
"We're almost there," Delilah cuts me off, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Just... keep going."
I let out a low whistle, shaking my head. "Yes, Your Highness."
