grinned. “A skier reported seeing the smoke from your chimney. This cabin isn’t used in the winter so I came to investigate.” He held his hand out. “Ranger Josh, at your service.”
Flesh met flesh in a thunderbolt of adrenaline as our hands clasped together. And if Ranger Josh wanted to, as he put it, service me , I’d be fine and dandy with that. “I’m Roy,” I told him. “But how did you get through? There were tons upon tons of snow out there. An avalanche of it.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through my very bones. “Um, there was a small snow slide blocking your door and windows.”
A flush of red worked its way up my neck. “Oops, my bad.” I looked down. Our hands were still united. “Still, said doors and windows were stuck, so you did rescue me.” I looked outside, past the still-open door. It was dark now. His snow mobile was parked about twenty feet away. “Is it safe for us to make it back to the lodge?”
His grin made a northward climb up his face. Did I mention that he was adorable? Did I mention that his hand was still in mine? Well he was and it was. He looked around before answering. He spotted the champagne and the caviar and the roaring fire and the cot. “Expecting someone?”
I shrugged. “Um, no. And you didn’t answer my question.”
“Safe?” he moved another inch closer. His breath smelled minty fresh. Oh, and his eyes weren’t brown; they were hazel with flecks of gold. “Yes, probably.”
“Which implies probably not.”
“If your glass is half empty.”
I pointed to the cups on the table. “Totally empty.” My smile joined his. “For the time being.”
His hand at last let go of mine. A phantom ache remained where once his fingers had been. “You know what,” he said. “It might not be safe to go back to the lodge, at least not until morning. One snow slide in this darkness and, well… you know.” It was then he closed the front door.
I didn’t know. I didn’t care. He wasn’t Steve but, so what, he was Josh. And my cup might’ve been empty but my heart was full. And fine, I might’ve aced Schmaltz 101, but up until a few minutes earlier I was at death’s door, or at least the door of a rickety old cabin, so cut me some friggin’ slack.
“Champagne?” I asked, hot-stepping it to the bottle.
His grin returned. “Well, it does seem like I’m off duty now.”
I handed him a cup, my pinky finger accidentally on purpose sliding over his pinky finger as a spark lit up every one of my spine’s vertebrae. I grabbed for the champagne and popped the cork, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet space we occupied. I jumped. He jumped. We jumped closer together.
I poured the champagne and we clinked our cups. “Happy New Year,” he purred.
My eyes went wide. I’d completely forgotten, what with all the, you know, hubbub . I glanced at my watch. “We have a couple of hours yet.”
He set his cup down and pulled me in tight. “What do you think we should do until then?”
I gulped. “Try and keep warm?”
His lips met mine in a crush of just that: warmth. “Sounds like a plan,” he said.
Suddenly a plan sounded better than a trap. And the reality of Josh felt far better than the fantasy of Steve.
Josh backed away. I did the same. Slowly he began to undress. Slowly I did the same. His jacket came off first, then the boots and snow pants. Beneath it all lay a green ranger’s uniform, which was snug in all the right places. As for me, I shucked off my boots and pointed back his way. “Together?”
He smiled, the fire twinkling in his eyes. “Sounds nice.”
Sounded nice, sure, but looked a hell of a lot nicer. Especially once his shirt was removed and all that muscle and fur were revealed, the brown down illuminated by the glow of the fire, his abs and pecs cast in rippled shadows. Apparently, ranger work kept him in tiptop form. And damn if he didn’t have a mighty fine tip and top.
“Tag,” he said. “You’re
Flesh met flesh in a thunderbolt of adrenaline as our hands clasped together. And if Ranger Josh wanted to, as he put it, service me , I’d be fine and dandy with that. “I’m Roy,” I told him. “But how did you get through? There were tons upon tons of snow out there. An avalanche of it.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through my very bones. “Um, there was a small snow slide blocking your door and windows.”
A flush of red worked its way up my neck. “Oops, my bad.” I looked down. Our hands were still united. “Still, said doors and windows were stuck, so you did rescue me.” I looked outside, past the still-open door. It was dark now. His snow mobile was parked about twenty feet away. “Is it safe for us to make it back to the lodge?”
His grin made a northward climb up his face. Did I mention that he was adorable? Did I mention that his hand was still in mine? Well he was and it was. He looked around before answering. He spotted the champagne and the caviar and the roaring fire and the cot. “Expecting someone?”
I shrugged. “Um, no. And you didn’t answer my question.”
“Safe?” he moved another inch closer. His breath smelled minty fresh. Oh, and his eyes weren’t brown; they were hazel with flecks of gold. “Yes, probably.”
“Which implies probably not.”
“If your glass is half empty.”
I pointed to the cups on the table. “Totally empty.” My smile joined his. “For the time being.”
His hand at last let go of mine. A phantom ache remained where once his fingers had been. “You know what,” he said. “It might not be safe to go back to the lodge, at least not until morning. One snow slide in this darkness and, well… you know.” It was then he closed the front door.
I didn’t know. I didn’t care. He wasn’t Steve but, so what, he was Josh. And my cup might’ve been empty but my heart was full. And fine, I might’ve aced Schmaltz 101, but up until a few minutes earlier I was at death’s door, or at least the door of a rickety old cabin, so cut me some friggin’ slack.
“Champagne?” I asked, hot-stepping it to the bottle.
His grin returned. “Well, it does seem like I’m off duty now.”
I handed him a cup, my pinky finger accidentally on purpose sliding over his pinky finger as a spark lit up every one of my spine’s vertebrae. I grabbed for the champagne and popped the cork, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet space we occupied. I jumped. He jumped. We jumped closer together.
I poured the champagne and we clinked our cups. “Happy New Year,” he purred.
My eyes went wide. I’d completely forgotten, what with all the, you know, hubbub . I glanced at my watch. “We have a couple of hours yet.”
He set his cup down and pulled me in tight. “What do you think we should do until then?”
I gulped. “Try and keep warm?”
His lips met mine in a crush of just that: warmth. “Sounds like a plan,” he said.
Suddenly a plan sounded better than a trap. And the reality of Josh felt far better than the fantasy of Steve.
Josh backed away. I did the same. Slowly he began to undress. Slowly I did the same. His jacket came off first, then the boots and snow pants. Beneath it all lay a green ranger’s uniform, which was snug in all the right places. As for me, I shucked off my boots and pointed back his way. “Together?”
He smiled, the fire twinkling in his eyes. “Sounds nice.”
Sounded nice, sure, but looked a hell of a lot nicer. Especially once his shirt was removed and all that muscle and fur were revealed, the brown down illuminated by the glow of the fire, his abs and pecs cast in rippled shadows. Apparently, ranger work kept him in tiptop form. And damn if he didn’t have a mighty fine tip and top.
“Tag,” he said. “You’re
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