C
old. Holy moly she was so cold. Avery stopped at the end of the block and scanned the deserted streets. Maybe she’d made a wrong turn and ended up in Antarctica.
The wind whipped straight through to her bones as she started out again, feet slipping on the few inches of snow and slush that had piled up on the sidewalk. A swarm of snowflakes blinded her and made it hard to read the street signs. Was she going the right way?
In her haste to flee the restaurant, she hadn’t thought to call for the car. The hotel was on the other side of town, maybe three miles away, but, technically, it was her father’s car and she no longer had any rights to it, no rights to anything that belonged to him. He’d made that clear.
The streets were quiet for nine-thirty, but beautiful, too, frosted by the new snow. It piled up on the black lampposts that lit the sidewalks in an orange glow. Snowflakes cascaded down, slanted sideways, and danced on the wind. It would’ve been so peaceful if her muscles weren’t stiff.
She paused again and wiped her eyes, tried to see past the blinding snow. Straight. She should go straight, then take a right at the next intersection. At least, she was pretty sure…
Move
. She had to keep moving. Putting her head down, she fought the wind and staggered past the warm storefronts that were all closed for the night. Of course. That was one good thing about Chicago. Nothing closed early.
A couple of cars passed her by. One slowed, no doubt to gawk at the crazy lady tromping around the snow in the dress. But then it sped away like the driver might be afraid she’d ask for a ride. Which she might’ve, come to think of it. Because she definitely needed a ride. There was no way she’d make it back to The Knightley on her own.
Shivers coursed through her and rattled her shoulders. She stopped underneath a store’s awning and dug her phone out of her purse. Who could she call? No one who would inform her father on her whereabouts. Not even Vanessa, because she’d freak out and tell Dad and the next thing she knew, he’d be there with the warm car, making her feel guilty for wanting to leave and talking her into staying. Then the point she’d just made wouldn’t matter. Besides, it was hard enough to walk away from Dad once. She couldn’t do it again.
That left one person. The only local number she had. Bryce. As dangerous as that felt after their little rendezvous last night, it did sound more appealing than hypothermia. Besides that, she had to tell him her father had met with the president of his bank. So, yes. She’d call Bryce and ask him for a ride back to her hotel. She’d even pay him. Like a taxi. Maybe then it wouldn’t feel so personal.
Hands shaking, she scrolled through and found his number.
It only rang once before he picked up. “Avery?”
The deep vibration of his voice in her ear sent a rush through her. “Hi,” she almost whispered.
“Hey, I’m glad you called. I’m on my way to your hotel. I need to talk to you.”
“I’m not there,” she said, her voice weak with the cold. But his words wrapped her in warmth. He was on his way to her hotel? He had to talk to her?
“Where are you?”
“Um…” Her teeth chattered, but her insides glowed. “I’m in town.” She turned to look at the storefront window behind her, noticing for the first time the colorful teddies and nighties hanging in the window. Of course it would be the lingerie shop. Of course. At least she was dry and out of the wind…
“Avery? Are you there?” Bryce asked with that thoughtful concern he’d offered her in the hospital.
“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sort of stranded in front of a store.” Was it possible for your face to flush when your skin was frozen? “Um, it’s pretty cold out. So…I was hoping you could give me a ride back to my hotel.”
“I’ll pick you up.” She heard the engine of his truck in the background. “Which store?”
Yes.
Definitely possible to blush in the middle of a snowstorm. “Um…well…it looks like it’s called…um…Intimate Intrigue.”
“Seriously?” he said through a laugh. “In that case, I’ll be right there.”
“They’re closed,” she grumbled. “And I’m really cold. I didn’t realize I’d need my winter coat in
September
.”
“I’m two minutes away,” he promised, all serious again. “Hang tight.”
“Thanks, Bryce.” Smile beaming, she clicked off the phone, stuffed it back in her purse, and huddled against the glass to wait.
* * *
Come on
. Bryce slowed the truck behind a whole line of red taillights that clogged the highway. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. Traffic was never this bad after nine. Must’ve been an accident. No surprise there. First snow of the season always snarled things up. Like people forgot how to drive in four short months or something. Normally a traffic jam didn’t stress him out, but he had to get to Avery. He hated to think of her out in the cold. Didn’t like the sound of her teeth chattering, and her breathing had come across the line in wispy gasps.
Punching the gas, Bryce swerved around a stalled car on the right and sped up Galena Street and through the center of town. This couldn’t be more perfect. He hadn’t exactly figured out how he would’ve gotten into The Knightley to see her, anyway. It was the swankiest hotel in town, designed like a castle, with pale bricks, arched windows, and flawless grounds. He tended to steer clear of places like that, maybe because he knew enough to know he didn’t belong there.
But picking her up at Intimate Intrigue…well, let’s just say that’d be a lot more fun, especially if she had a full shopping bag. And screw giving her a ride back to her hotel. He was taking her back to the ranch. With him.
He whipped around a corner and spotted Avery huddled under an awning. What the…?
She wore a sleeveless black dress and heels. No coat. In a damn snowstorm. His foot crushed the brake pedal and he shifted the truck into park. Leaving the engine running, he sprinted over to her and shimmied out of his coat. “What’re you thinking?” he asked, throwing his coat around her bare shoulders. Now that he was close, he realized her dress was soaked and her skin looked red and chapped.
“It’s a long story,” she chattered, and damn it, she really was freezing.
“Come here.” He pulled her against him and bundled the coat tighter, hustling her toward the truck.
“I’m fine,” she insisted, but it would’ve sounded a lot more convincing without those shallow breaths chugging in and out of her mouth.
“Right. Fine.” And people thought he was stubborn. He steered her to the passenger door and yanked it open, then thrust her inside and buckled her seat belt for her.
When he climbed in next to her, she smiled and shook her head. “You really do have some kind of hero complex, don’t you?”
“You could’ve gotten hypothermia.” Blasting the heat, he peeled out and pulled an illegal U-turn so he could get her back to the lodge. Get her warm and safe. Get her in his arms where she belonged.
“So, Bryce,” she said, and did he imagine it or did she suddenly sound shy? “We need to talk. It’s about the ranch. My father—”
“No,” he interrupted. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk, Avery. Okay?” He glanced over at her, noting the fact that she was still shivering. “First I want to get you warm. Then I have some things to say.” He wouldn’t let her say anything until he told her what he’d done, how he’d started out on the road toward healing…
“Wait…” She glanced out the window. “This isn’t the way to my hotel.”
“I know.” He didn’t bother to hide his smile. Obviously, she didn’t like letting other people into the driver’s seat, but tonight she didn’t have a choice. “Forget your hotel.” Reaching over the console, he rubbed his free hand up and down her arm. “I’m taking you back to my place. I’m gonna warm you up, make sure you don’t have frostbite and all that.” Oh, yes. He would make sure she got warm.
He drove fast, wheels skidding on ice, the truck’s backend fishtailing, and finally turned off the highway.
“Slow it down, buddy.” Avery laughed. “This isn’t the Indy 500.”
Even so, he made it home in record time.
After he parked in front of the office, he whisked her out of the truck.
“Bryce!” She gasped out another laugh. “Are you always this crazy?”
“Only when I’m trying to rescue beautiful women,” he murmured, gathering her under his arm as they tromped up the steps to his apartment above the office.
“And how often do you rescue beautiful women?” she teased.
“Well, this week I’ve been swamped.” He shot her a meaningful look as he opened the door.
Moose woofed and jumped and sniffed, but he nudged the dog away with his knee and took Avery straight into the master bathroom.
“Um ….” She looked up at him, uncertainty blaring in her eyes. “What’re we doing in your bathroom?”
Before he could answer, Moose busted through the door and jumped on her, licking her face, nuzzling her chest with his head. And yes, it made him just a little jealous.
“Hey there, Moose.” She smiled down at the dog, and Bryce wanted to kiss those flawless lips right then and there, but he had more important things to do at the moment.
“Moose, down,” he commanded. The dog dropped to the floor, resting his head on his front paws and peering up at Avery.
“Good dog,” she murmured, patting his head.
Lovesick dog was more like it. But he could relate.
Anyway…
“Best way to get warm is to take a hot bath,” Bryce informed her as he kneeled down to crank on the faucet in the oversized tub he’d never used.
“That’s not necessary,” she murmured breathlessly. He’d never heard her sound more afraid.
“It’ll warm you up faster than anything else. Trust me.” He swiped a clean towel from the cabinet and set it next to the tub. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning to hang out and watch.” Though he wouldn’t mind, but she obviously didn’t want that. “You can take your time. I’ll go make a fire.”
“Okay,” she said, but her eyes shifted like she was uncomfortable. Yeah. That was his fault. Last night, he’d walked away, leaving her bare and vulnerable. Hopefully one mistake hadn’t ruined his chances with her.
He moved toward the door. “I’ll find something dry for you to wear and leave it on the bed.” Stepping into his bedroom, he closed the bathroom door, then went to the very back of his closet and pulled out the heavy bathrobe he never wore. At least it’d keep her warm. Maybe he could throw her dress in the dryer…
“Bryce?” Avery’s muffled voice came through the door.
He hurried over. “Yeah?”
The door opened and she stood there still clothed in that soaked dress, which happened to accentuate her perfect cleavage.
“Um…” Her face glowed even redder than it had out in the snow. “I can’t seem to get the zipper down.”
Well, shit.
That meant he’d have to touch her, to see what hid under her dress. “Are you sure?” he asked. Because once he touched her, it wouldn’t be easy to stop.
“I’ve tried,” she muttered, like this was much harder on her than it was on him. It probably was. It’d be a lie to say he wouldn’t enjoy it.
“I pulled on it, but it started to rip.”
“Okay.” No problem. He just couldn’t think about how much he wanted to ravage her right now. Careful not to touch her skin, he gathered her hair in his hand so he could locate the zipper.
As he undid the clasp, a slow breath leaked through his lips. God, she smelled good.
Carefully, he tugged on the zipper. It didn’t budge. Of course. Now he’d have to touch her. Sure enough, his fingers grazed the soft skin on her shoulders as he tugged harder. Finally, the zipper gave. “How’d you get stuck in front of the underwear store?” he asked to distract himself from the slow reveal of her bra and underwear.
“I was actually at Elevation 8,000,” she said, her voice as guarded as his movements. “With my father and some of his friends.”
“Must’ve been some dinner,” he said, studying the sexy cut of the dress.
“Yeah. That’s actually what I wanted to—”
“If you went to dinner, how’d you end up at the store?” he asked to take the focus off her body. Because through the zipper’s open slit, he caught a glimpse of some tight lacy slip contraption that she’d probably picked up from someplace like Intimate Intrigue. Tightening his fists, he stepped back so his hands wouldn’t sneak right in and caress her soft, scented skin…
“I quit my job,” she murmured.
“What?” He stilled. She’d quit? She’d walked away from her father?
“I told Dad I wanted to move away.” A shaky strength fortified the words. “He got mad and cut me off from everything. So I left.”
He slipped in front of her so he could see her eyes. She was moving away from Chicago. His heart thumped hope into his body. “Where are you moving?”
Her eyes avoided his. “I don’t know yet. I’m thinking California.”
Damn.
Not what he wanted to hear.
“Avery…” He went to touch her, but she stepped back.
“Um…thanks for getting the zipper.” She shuffled awkwardly toward the vanity, keeping her backside positioned away from him.
“Sure,” he said casually, like every pulse point in his body wasn’t thrumming with want.
“So I guess I’ll take a bath,” she whispered, her face blotchy.
“And I’ll go make a fire,” he replied, his eyes still linked with hers.
Then he’d make her the best mug of hot chocolate she’d ever tasted and prove to her that he was worth a second chance.
W
ell…she couldn’t stay here forever. Avery sat up in the tub, water trickling down her body. It was a dangerous place to be…submerged in Bryce’s tub. In Bryce’s bathroom. In Bryce’s apartment. At Bryce’s ranch. He’d been right. The bath had definitely warmed her up. Blood rushed through her, pounding anticipation into her body. Bryce was there. Right outside the door. Waiting for her.
But he’d seen her—all of her—and it hadn’t been enough to keep him from running out on her the last night. Tough for a girl to forget that feeling. Tough to let go of the fear she wouldn’t be enough for him now, either.
Straining her ears, she eased out of the water and stepped onto the warm tile. Radiant heat. It rose up her legs as she snatched the fluffy gray towel Bryce had left out.
The bathroom was nicely lit with an oiled bronze sconce above the double vanity. A light-colored granite countertop highlighted the two copper sinks and their vessel faucets. The place was so neat, it looked lonely, like there should’ve been hair products and a blow dryer and make-up strewn about. Maybe there had been, once.
Shuffling across the tile, she pressed her ear against the door. Nothing but silence. So Bryce must not be in the bedroom, thank goodness. Just in case, she cracked it open and peeked through. Another neat room. Everything about it was so him, from the hand-built log bed frame, which had to be a California king, to the matching nightstands and dresser. A masculine grayish color dulled the walls, but the old-school Aspen Mountain framed ski posters brought in pops of color.
Satisfied that she was alone, she opened the door fully and looked around. The door to the bedroom had been closed, since Bryce seemed to think of everything. Just like when he’d brought her all that stuff in the hospital…
Nope.
Not going there. Not now. Instead, she toweled herself off and slipped on the navy blue bathrobe he’d laid out on the bed. It smelled like him, that hint of mountains and pine, but she couldn’t imagine Bryce Walker wearing a bathrobe. He was too manly. She’d pictured him as the kind of man who walked around naked and unashamed.
Oops.
Those thoughts were restricted at the present time. Off limits.
Let’s get this over with.
In front of the door, she paused and locked in a breath for an extra dose of strength. Her heart beat like dragonfly wings, too fast and out of control, but she gripped the doorknob and pushed the door open anyway.
Bryce sat on a black leather sectional in front of a roaring fire. She could feel the warmth of it all the way across the room. The whole scene in front of her was so cozy, warm and inviting. She’d missed it on the way in, but his open-concept kitchen and living room weren’t quite as neat. Gorgeous, but lived in, too.
“Feel better?” Bryce grinned at her, a sly enticing grin that made her re-tie the belt of the robe into a secure knot. As if he could undo it with one look.
Moose scampered over to her, wagging and licking, which seemed to be his two favorite activities. She ran a hand over his soft fur. “Hey, buddy.”
“I made hot chocolate.” Bryce’s eyes were brighter than they’d been yesterday when she left.
He patted the cushion next to him, and she had no choice. She couldn’t turn down chocolate.
“Thanks.” She crept over and sat on the couch, making sure to leave a generous space between them, but he scooted closer and reached down to pull her feet into his lap.
“I should check you out for frostbite.” He gave her a stern glare, but a grin peeked through. “Can’t believe you wore those open heels in a snowstorm.” His fingers probed her feet.
Her body hummed with approval, but she cleared her throat and tried to maintain her weakening grip on the cliff of rationality. He was simply inspecting her feet for damage. That was all.
Bryce carefully ran his fingers over the bottom of each foot, and it shouldn’t have been sensual because he really was inspecting them, prodding and feeling and rubbing, but she was already so charged that he practically had her squirming with pleasure.
“They look good.” He placed her feet back on the floor, and she almost begged him not to stop, but she did have her dignity. Sort of.
Seeming oblivious to her severe disappointment, Bryce lifted one of the ceramic mugs from the coffee table and held it out to her with an adorable look of hope, a silent
I hope you like it
.
She took it from his hands, unable to fight off the smile the rose from deep within her, and when she sipped the creamy, sweet concoction, she fell in love with him a little more.
“I’m sorry I ruined your night.” She faced him, not so afraid anymore—of him, of what he made her feel.
“You didn’t ruin my night.” He shot her that enticing grin, and, yes…she was in trouble. Big trouble.
He could’ve simply picked her up and dropped her off at her hotel. She would’ve thanked him and told him to have a nice life. Instead, she was sitting on his couch, wearing his bathrobe, sipping the best hot chocolate she’d ever tasted in front of a romantic fire.
So much for protecting her heart.
“Actually,” Bryce sat upright. “You made things easier for me. I was on my way to see you. At
The Knightley
.” He pronounced it with a terrible British accent, which earned a laugh. Or maybe she laughed because he’d been coming to see her. At her hotel. He was coming for her.
“Why’d you want to see me?” she asked, sliding her hair behind her ear, slipping into junior high mode once again, because it felt like she was experiencing all of these feelings for the very first time.
Bryce’s face sobered, but his eyes still gleamed. “I went to the accident site today.”
She searched his face for the pain she’d seen there, but it had been replaced with a look of hope.
That same hope sparked inside of her. Instead of retreating, instead of pushing her away, Bryce looked into her eyes, clear and steady. Determined.
“I remembered everything about that day. Things I didn’t want to remember.”
“That must’ve been so hard,” she whispered. The burden of what he’d had to do settled on her chest and commanded her to break the no-touching rule and reach for him. Her hand covered his, fingers stroking the rough skin on his knuckles.
“Yeah. It wasn’t easy.” He turned his hand up so their palms melded together. “I know it’ll take time, but I can see a life now. Not just an existence. I see a future.”
“I’m happy for you.” The warmth from his hand seeped into her. She’d never felt so connected to someone, so captivated. And now she knew he felt it, too.
“The thing is…” Bryce exhaled and shifted to face her. “I never had a reason to let go. Not until I met you.” His hand reached to her face. Tenderly, his fingers swept her hair behind her ear, then trailed down her neck in a soft caress. “I’m not good at this. At words.” Eyes flickering with hesitation, he dropped his hand back to his lap.
Smiling, she set her mug on the coffee table, then eased onto her knees and tugged his face close to hers. “I think you’re doing okay,” she whispered. “In fact, I think you’re doing better than okay.”
A slow grin changed his face, erasing every trace of that hesitation and drawing her lips to his because she couldn’t hold back anymore. He was strong in the hardest way possible and she wanted him to know that, to feel it in the very core of his soul.
Her lips brushed his with a heat like fire, but it wasn’t nearly enough. She worked her fingers into his hair and pressed in harder, tasting the salty sweetness of his lips.
He still held his mug, balancing it in his hand, raising it in the air while he kissed her back. “Whoa, slugger,” he murmured between kisses.
She stole the mug out of his hand and set it next to hers, then shifted so she could straddle his legs. “I love it when you call me that.”
He laughed a low, sexy sound and leaned closer to her ear. “Slugger,” he whispered, slipping his hands under the robe, then gliding them up her bare thighs. “Slugger, slugger, slugger.” His tongue got involved in the action and sent a shock down to her toes.
She lowered her hands to the edge of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one smooth motion. Then her fingers inched their way down his bare chest and over his tight abs to unbutton his jeans.
“Avery.” His hands swallowed hers. “You don’t have to…this isn’t why I—”
“I know I don’t have to,” she cut in before he could finish. “I want this.” So much she could hardly even utter those words. They were too real, too revealing, but she couldn’t contain them because Bryce made her ache, and he was right there in front of her, open and unguarded.
With a surrendering sigh, he reached up and smoothed his hand over her hair before pulling her mouth back to his, kissing her with a restrained desperation. His hands traveled down her sides, slipping under the robe again, skimming her skin, sliding over the curve of her hips, then up her stomach, higher and higher until the hard pound of her heart resounded through her.
“Bryce,” she gasped, because that was all she could manage. It was a question, a command, a plea all in one. His eyes connected with hers and the force of his stare pierced her somewhere deep. She could feel it, her heart fusing with his in this mysterious bond that pried her open. Alone she wasn’t enough, but he gave her a glimpse of the wholeness her heart craved.
She wanted more than a glimpse.
Keeping her eyes locked on his, she inched off his lap and took her time tugging his pants off of his hips, pulling them down, down, all the way to the floor. When she straightened back up, he stood there with her, hands cradling her cheeks, wrenching her closer, kissing her like he’d only just discovered what it could do to him, how it could free him. And she felt it, too. Free and bold.
Bryce might not have been much of a talker, but the man could kiss. Yes indeedy, he’d obviously spent a good part of his life honing that important skill.
His lips moved down her neck tracing and kissing, lingering at that magical place just underneath her jawbone, while his hands worked at the belt tied so snug against her waist. “It’s like a fortress,” he complained, hands pulling, fingers untying, while his mouth molded to hers again and they both laughed.
Finally, he freed her of it and slipped the robe off her shoulders. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since last night,” he groaned. “About your perfect body…” His lips traveled lower, tenderly grazing each of her breasts until she had to tighten her mouth to keep from crying out. “You’re a dream, Avery,” he murmured against her, his breath hot on her skin. And that was exactly how he made her feel, treasured and cherished, like he’d searched for her his whole life.
Without another word, Bryce lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing, then lowered her to the floor in front of the fireplace.
The dancing light softened his face and flickered on his upper body. Such a scenic body. Her eyes worked their way down to his black boxer briefs. She really should do something about those…
She tried to sit up, but Bryce pressed her shoulders firmly to the floor and rocked onto his knees next to her. “Stay there,” he said, and the enticing grin made her back melt into the floor.
Starting at her feet, he slowly massaged his way up her legs, kneading his fingers over her calves, then her knees, pausing to caress her inner thighs before inserting his fingers and stroking her in a gentle, fluid rhythm. And oh wow. He knew exactly where to touch, where to tug, where to press, and he took his time with the exploration of her, slowly taking her over, body and soul, claiming her with a selfless devotion. Lowering his face to hers, he kissed her mouth with a slow, lingering heat, then worked his lips to her ear. “What do you want, Avery?” he droned, sending a deep vibration down her left side.
How could he ask her that when his hand played her body this way, like he’d always known his way around her? How could he even wonder when she was quaking at the sheer extravagance of his touch?
“You,” she whispered, turning her gaze to his, losing herself in the promise that softened his eyes.
His fingers plunged deep then, the explosive sensations swelling into her lower abdomen and arching her back. Was she even breathing?
She must’ve been, but air didn’t fill her lungs before she had to gasp to get hold of herself. Heat pulsed so hard between her legs she knew he had to stop. This wasn’t enough. She wanted to take him where he’d brought her, to erase the cold loneliness that had edged in around his heart. She wanted to connect with him in the most intimate way possible.
Scooting out of his reach, she rose on her shaky knees and slid those briefs right down his legs until he was exposed before her.
His sharp intake of air was cut off by her lips. Her tongue teased his before she pulled away and trailed her hands down his body, over his hips, taking her time, kissing her way down his neck and across his stationary chest. “Breathe,” she commanded him, and his shoulders slumped with a weighted exhale.
“God, Avery, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he uttered as if he’d forgotten how to inhale.
She did know. She understood, felt his needs as strongly as she felt her own. Pressing her lips against his, she breathed him in and closed her hand around him, feeling the hard pulse of his desire. Stroking and tugging, she caressed him until he panted her name.
“Avery…how’d I live without you?” He stared into her eyes, his breaths ragged.
“You don’t have to anymore,” she murmured against his lips. Somehow, in this world full of pain and sorrow, they’d found each other. And she wouldn’t let him go.
“Make love to me, Bryce.” She guided his hands to her backside and he lifted her against him, still on his knees, still hard and strong and powerful.
“Avery,” he panted again as he thrust into her. Shards of delight splintered inside of her as she wrapped her legs around his waist and hooked her ankles tight.
Holding her securely against him, Bryce kissed her neck, her cheek, her forehead, and she’d never trembled like this, dangling over that cliff, holding on with everything she had because she didn’t want it to end.