Page 9 of Snowed In with her Mountain Men

CAMRYN

I closed my eyes and crunched down, my mouth protesting but eventually obeying the strict orders of my growling stomach. This was not the breakfast of champions. Half the bites I sank my teeth into were rock hard, while others were worrisomely soft.

And that’s because the granola bar — as well as the vending machine that had reluctantly given birth to it — was probably a thousand years old.

“Fuck this.”

I hurled the second half of the bar away, before it sucked the remaining moisture from my mouth, then looked around in despair.

The room I’d been renting for the past two days was dingy and eternally cold.

As if that combination wasn’t bad enough, it was cramped, the lighting was bad, and it smelled like two possums had killed each other while fighting under the bed…

but not before evacuating their bowels, first.

“C’mon,” I sighed unhappily. “Enough with the distractions, already. Focus.”

I stared into the glowing screen of my new laptop, which was really an old, refurbished laptop picked up at the pawn shop up the block. It was the same basic brand as the one that got slagged into magma, even if the screen itself was several inches of magnitude smaller.

This in turn hurt my eyes; especially with the yellowish, overhead fluorescents that were constantly flickering at annoying intervals. Still, I had a computer again. I had a place to write, a spotty but cheap internet connection, and a roof over my head that wasn’t leaking. Currently, anyway.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

I froze, terrified of who could be at the other side of the reinforced metal door.

I’d been approached twice outside by two different men, both trying to strike up conversations I wasn’t looking to have.

And then there was the not so savory-looking guy who hung out near the vending machine.

He’d asked me for change before I even got near enough to smell him, which was no small feat because his smell was overpowering.

Dragging the blanket I kept over my shoulders, I moved cautiously to the door. The peephole was so scratched up, it was impossible to see. I hadn’t cared much when I first got here, but now I cursed myself for not asking for a different room.

“Hey! It’s me.”

I peered even harder, willing myself to see past the blur of random scratches. Vaguely, I could make out the hulking form of someone standing just on the other side of the door. Whoever the guy was, he was enormous. My heart began thundering away, now at double speed.

“Camryn! It’s Oakley. Open up.”

It took a second for the words to register. My mouth dropped open, and my eyes lit up. I threw open the door and got blasted by the cold, but I barely even felt it. The surge of joy and relief flooding over me wiped out everything else.

“Hey,” he smiled. “I—”

His sentence died as I flung myself into his arms. A moment later I was hugging him tightly, wrapping my whole body around him like we’d known each other all our lives.

I lost myself shamelessly in the warmth of his hard chest, the security of his broad shoulders, the strength of those two big arms. Oakley stepped inside, carrying me with him.

The door swung closed as he wrapped his own arms around me, and gave me the best hug in the universe.

“Thank God you’re here,” I sighed. “I was just—”

And then he was kissing me, those beautiful lips rotating softly against mine. He did it full on, without hesitation or reservation or anything other than pure, undiluted confidence.

And shit. I found myself totally kissing him back.

It was the kiss I’d always wanted. The kiss I’d needed, right now more than anything, to set my world even remotely right again.

Oakley’s hands slid to my hips, squeezing me possessively as he took what he wanted.

I shivered with excitement as his tongue slid past mine, softly but boldly exploring my mouth.

Oh, wow…

His boldness seriously turned me on, eliciting a soft coo that I couldn’t help but moan into his hot mouth. And then just as suddenly as it began, the kiss was over. We broke apart and stepped back, each of us still breathless with the heat of the moment.

“What died in here?” he murmured, sniffing the air.

“Hope,” I shot back. “Dreams. Shit, it could be anything, really.”

“Yeah.”

We stared at each other for a long moment. It should’ve been awkward, yet it was anything but.

“Sorry about that,” Oakley said, scratching at the back of his head. “I don’t know what came over me, really, but—”

“You’re a cop? ”

He broke eye contact to look down at his uniform, as if seeing it for the first time. As well as the badge that went along with it.

“Deputy sheriff, actually.”

“Oh.”

“When we first settled in here, I really didn’t know what the hell I was going to do,” Oakley explained. “But then I met the sheriff, who has three sons in the military. He’s a Marine too, so Semper Fi and all that. He took an immediate liking to me, and so…”

He flicked his badge with a long finger.

“Got it.”

“So yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to kiss you,” he explained again. “I mean, I totally did , if I’m being honest. But I probably shouldn’t have. And I—”

I shushed him with an outstretched finger, then stood on my tiptoes to plant my lips on him again. The quick kiss left him pleasantly surprised.

“Don’t be sorry,” I smiled. “I didn’t exactly hate it, as you could probably tell.”

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Actually, I needed it. More than I even knew.”

My God, Oakley looked good before. But now, in his sheriff’s uniform? Button-down shirt, badge, and handcuffs dangling from his belt?

Damn, I just wanted to kiss him some more.

“How’s your hand?” he asked.

I held it up. “Healing nicely. I always was a fast healer. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“That’s good,” he smiled. “Real good.”

“So what’s up?” I asked, picking the blanket up from the floor. I began folding it without even thinking. “Did you come to bask in the opulent splendor of the Midway Motel?”

“Nope.”

I batted my eyelashes at him. “You came to kiss me, then.”

“Actually, I came to bring you this.”

Reaching down, Oakley picked up a small white bag that he must’ve dropped to the floor. When he pulled a long sleeve of french fries from it, I rushed him all over again.

“Oh my God, I could marry you right now!”

He chuckled as I began stuffing my face, heedless of how I must’ve looked. I was standing in the cheapest of cheap motels, dressed in doubled up sweat clothes, inhaling french fries by the handful. I nearly choked though, when he produced a couple of cheeseburgers to go with them.

“You pull a vanilla shake out of that bag,” I warned, “and you’re getting laid.”

His cool blue eyes scanned me for a moment, before he finally laughed. “No shake, I’m afraid. I do have an ice cold Coke, though.”

True to his word he pulled it out, straw and everything. I grabbed it greedily. The first few sips went down so quickly, so recklessly, it burned my sinuses.

“You’re getting kissed again at the very least,” I mumbled, around another mouthful of fries.

He laughed. “I’ll wait until you’re done eating, thank you.”

No problem there. Gratefully I tore into the cheeseburger, not having eaten anything significant in far too long. Oakley watched me go to town, then sat down across from me at the room’s little table.

“Does the heat work in here?” he asked.

“Sometimes.”

“Damn,” he rubbed his hands together. “I think it’s warmer outside.”

“Not at night,” I smirked.

He looked around some more, taking the place in. Eventually, his gaze settled on my laptop.

“I see you got a new computer.”

“I got an old computer,” I corrected him, reaching out to pat the machine affectionately. “But yes.”

“Good. How’s the mystery novel coming along?”

I took another pull from my soda. “Mysteriously, I guess.”

“You had to start all over, didn’t you?”

My stomach rolled with a wave of nausea.

The loss of so much work was a sore subject, and one I was just beginning to get over.

Still, it was no one’s fault but my own.

I should’ve been keeping a backup, or at least emailing the manuscript to myself periodically.

You know, just in case my laptop got lost, or stolen, or disastrously melted in a fire.

I let out a sigh and nodded.

“I came to let you know I went after your shithead landlord,” Oakley said. “Unfortunately he left town. Smartest move he could make, really. But when he does come back, there’ll be an assault warrant waiting for him.”

I looked up, hopefully. “So I can go back home?”

“No,” he countered immediately. “That place is a deathtrap, even without the shattered door and piles of wolf shit. There’s no insulation, no water, and barely any electricity. It never should have been rented in the first place.”

Despair crept over me. The tiny motel room suddenly felt even smaller.

“You’re lucky we got you out when we did,” Oakley went on. “If you’d tried to stay the winter, you might’ve been a literal Popsicle by spring.” His voice grew low and serious. “That happens around here a lot more than you think.”

“Okay.”

“So no, you can’t go home,” he said gently. “But you also can’t stay here. Unless of course, this place is growing on you.”

“Oh yeah,” I laughed bitterly. “I love the smell, the mouse shit, the paper thin walls. The magnificent view of that dumpster in the alleyway, and the way the plastic shower curtain sticks to my ass, every time I—”

“That’s why you’re coming back with me.”

I stopped everything. “Back?”

“Yes.”

“Back where?”

“Back to our cabin, of course,” said Oakley, matter of factly. He looked around in genuine disgust. “Because there’s no fucking way you’re saying here.”

I felt my throat constrict, involuntarily. The room went blurry, as my eyes filled with tears.

“You’re not messing with me, right?” I choked. “Please tell me you’re not—”

“I wouldn’t mess with you,” he grinned. “Not on this, anyway. Of course, if you’re really attached to that shower curtain, we can probably take it with us. I’m not sure it’ll work with the decor, but…”

Whatever else Oakley might’ve said was lost in a rush of my own adrenaline, excitement, and absolute euphoria.

And before either of us knew it, I was kissing him all over again.