Page 8 of All Snowed Gin

Well, damn.

“C’mon baby,” I whisper, rubbing the lock. Hopefully some heat will help.

I twist again, but nothing. Not even a millimeter. Okay, plan B.

Squatting down partway, I hold my mouth over the lock and huff. This has to be one of the most awkward positions I’ve ever stood in, and I’m extremely thankful no one is here to witness this. Because there is no way I don’t look ridiculous. Still, I continue to huff, tuning out the world around me as I push as much hot air from my lungs as possible.

Beep!

The sudden, shrill noise catches me off guard, making me lose my balance. Arms flailing, feet slipping out from underneath me, I cry out as I fall. My landing isn’t graceful, nor is it soft. So much for all this white fluffy stuff bracing my impact.

“Oww!”

I push up to my elbows, my whole body grumbling. But it’s my ankle that’s screaming. Loud. Who knows what stunning act of acrobatics I did on my way down, but whatever it was resulted in a twisted ankle. Great—that’s going to make getting to town a delight.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a voice calls out. A deep, gruff voice. One that is making my already semi-melted panties consider disintegrating altogether.

I look to my left and there’s Pierce. He’s mounted high on a snowmobile, covered head to toe in snow gear, looking down at me. Oh, good for him.

“I told you, I have to get home! I need to find a way off this hill!”

“And I told you, there isn’t one.”

Pierce pulls a large, black jacket off his lap and tosses it at me. It lands at my feet, and I eye it for a full five seconds before attempting to move. Pushing to my feet isn’t an option though, my ankle making it known that it’s not going to bear any weight. I stumble, legs going out from under me like Bambi, landing on my ass all over again.

“Here,” he says, hopping off his mechanical steed. He reaches for the jacket, wrapping me in it. The fleece lining is soft against my skin, causing me to snuggle into it. “Hurt yourself?”

“It’s just a twisted ankle.”

“May I?”

Holding out his arm, he silently gestures his intent to lift me. His voice is still gruff, but his russet-brown eyes have softened, making my heart squeeze. Also, the seeking consent? Can’t deny the sexiness in that. It steals my words from me, leaving me to only nod. He does the same in return, silently slipping his arms under me and picking me up in a single move. I can feel the heat radiating off him, calling my name, and I have to fight the urge to snuggle into him. This isn’t some romantic rescue in a movie.

“Is there anything you need from your car?”

“My…err…umm…suitcase is in the back,” I tell him, my words still failing me.

“Keys?”

“The lock is frozen.”

“I got it.”

He takes my keys and makes quick work of popping the trunk open. Apparently, the answer to unfreezing the lock was a lighter. Good to know. I’ll file that away for next time.

My luggage quickly strapped to the back of the snowmobile, he remounts it, cranking the engine. It rumbles underneath me, sending a very pleasurable jolt to my lady bits, which are already standing at attention. Too long on this bad boy, and it’s going to be a very different scene.

“Hold on,” Pierce tells me.

Hold on, to what?

I don’t have time to get my question out. Instead, Pierce grabs my arms, wrapping them around his torso. Holy hell. I grip tighter, trying to determine where his jacket ends and he begins. Which actually isn’t that hard, because underneath this thing, he is solid muscle. Revving the engine again, Pierce doesn’t give me any more warning before hitting the gas.

The cold wind whips against my cheeks, the speed of the snowmobile making it that much harsher, so I bury my face in Pierce’s back. He tenses up as I do so, but I can’t tell if that’s because of me or the curve of the drive that we round. I’m going to tell myself it’s because of the drive and give myself another thirty seconds of fantasy of being wrapped around this delicious specimen.

Thirty seconds is truly about all I get though. In the blink of an eye, we’re pulling into a garage I didn’t see when I was up here earlier, which means I have to let go. Bummer.

“We need to get you warm,” Pierce says, dismounting. He turns to look at me, his gaze dragging up and down my body, as if he’s appraising me.