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“Thank you, that was delicious.” My voice cracks as I stand and try to clear the dishes.
“I’ve got KP duty.” Bert rises, taking the dishes out of my hands. “Why don’t you help Drake with the chores outside while I clean up in here? Henry won’t be around for another hour, and I’m sure Drake will appreciate your help.” He walks over to a closet and pulls out a coat. “Here, you can borrow this. It was Bethany’s.”
With the exception of the kitchen, there’s a definite lack of feminine presence in the home, but he still keeps some of her things. How long ago did she die? It’s a shame because Bert looks like the kind of man who is desperately in love with his wife. I bet he misses her terribly, but I don’t voice my thoughts. He reminds me a little of my uncle, who lost my aunt several years ago. There’s a lingering sadness, which never fully goes away.
“Thank you.” I take the coat from Bert.
Drake unfolds his long, lean frame from the chair, and my eyes cut to the flex of his biceps. I touch my fingers to my neck where my pulse races beneath the pad of my finger. Reluctantly, I drag my attention from Drake’s impressive form as he shrugs into his jacket and turns back around. He snatches the coat from my hands, shakes it out, and holds it for me.
He crowds my personal space while I shove first one arm and then the other inside the borrowed coat. When I pull at the bottom to zip it up, Drake places his hands on my shoulders and unceremoniously spins me around. His towering frame puts me eye level with his chest. I’m used to Scott’s much shorter stature and being eye-to-eye. With Drake, all I see is the expanse of his chest.
While he zips me into the coat, no part of him actually touches me. It’s as if he tries not to touch me, but if he doesn’t want to touch me, why is he in my space?
My entire body reacts to the nearness of him. His dark, masculine scent floods my nostrils as I fill my lungs. His words about zip it, don’t sniff it pass through my thoughts, and I can’t help my bite down on my lower lip to keep from giggling like a lunatic.
He pulls the zipper all the way up my chest, snugging it below my chin. Bending closer, he inspects his handiwork, then cocks his head to the side.
“You ready to see the llamas?”
BARN
Asmile works at the corners of Drake’s eyes, and I wonder if he didn’t just sniff me. The gravelly intonations of his voice will be my undoing. I just know it. No one should sound that sexy.
His raven-black hair falls across his brow, perfectly unruly and disheveled. He finger-combs it back into place, where it stays for a moment, only to fall across his eyes again.
The scar on his face draws my attention, a ragged line extending over the left side of his face. It must have been painful, and I wonder how he got it.
His eyes pinch, perhaps noticing my focus on the disfigurement.
I clear my throat and inject cheer into my voice. “I’d love to see the llamas.”
His eyes lock with mine. Strange how much power radiates from those depths. I wish I could see his pupils, but they’re indistinguishable from the dark rims of his irises.
Drake dips his head and opens the back door, sweeping his arm outward. I take his lead and step into the chilly morning air while ignoring how his sculpted lips tip upward into a smirk.
This man will be my undoing. My insides warm with the sound of his voice. My steps lighten with the solid tread of his steps behind me. The brutal beauty of his face, punctuated by that puckered and ragged scar, speak to torment, agony, and survival.
He stands behind me, close enough to feel the heat of his breaths on the back of my neck. It’s unsettling enough that I grab at my hair and free it from the messy bun. As I shake out the long strands, a strangled sound comes from Drake. He places a hand on the small of my back, steering me toward the barn.
“It’s beautiful out here.” I can’t help but stop and take in the beauty all around me.
Instead of darkness and fear, I’m greeted with the light of a new day and all the hope that comes with it.
Overhead, the deepest blue greets the day. Over the ridge, the sun begins its steady climb skyward. There isn’t a cloud in the sky. Not a single speck from the storm of the previous evening. And it’s warmer than I expect.
My breath isn’t visible, and my hands don’t ache from the cold. Beneath my feet, wet snow crunches as it melts beneath the dawning sun.
I found my sneakers drying by the fire in the living room. Bert’s hospitality is beyond thoughtful. They’ll be wet again soon with the melting snow, but I no longer fear hypothermia, frostbite, and death.
As far as my eye can see, a blanket of white sparkles under the morning sun. I fight against the urge to spin in a circle, arms stretched wide, taking in the scene.
“Beyond gorgeous.” Drake’s hard gaze locks on my face.
My cheeks heat because he’s not talking about the farm.
“Come.” He turns toward the barn as my insides heat.
It’s one word. An order given to follow. But it’s more than that. Something carnal stirs in his voice: a promise for something more.
