“I should get you home,” he said instead, only half-aware of his fingers digging into the soft, fleecy material of her pants. “If you refuse to seek medical attention, your boyfriend”—he almost choked on the word—“can take of you. I’m sure he’s worried.”
She let out a sound caught between a laugh and a hiss. “I really fucking doubt it.” Her gaze rose to his. “What about you? Can you take care of me?”
Before he could come up with an answer, she fisted her hands in the lapels of his jacket and jerked his mouth down to hers.
He didn’t react for a moment. Two. Hard to move away when what he hadn’t dared to want had come to him.
Finally.
Her lips were inferno hot, backed by enough purpose to have his rock-hard cock leaping. Before her tongue could slip into his mouth and rip away the last shred of his defenses, he gripped her shoulders and gently drew her back. “You must want Rob right now. Let me call him.”
“No.” Her blue eyes gleamed defiantly in the crisscrossing spill of light from their snowmobiles. “I don’t want Rob, Justin.”
What could he say? He wanted to lay her in the snow and pull down her fleecy pants to see if the rest of her was as soft and needy as her mouth. But he couldn’t. She was hurt, and they were standing around talking in the middle of a snowstorm when she needed medical attention.
“C’mon,” he said after a pause. He slipped the glove out of his pocket and put it on her bare, shaking hand. “Let’s get you looked at.”
Kylie whimpered and rolled onto her side, pushing her face down into the nubby material beneath her cheek. The fabric smelled faintly of detergent and strongly of Justin’s spicy soap. Yum. She burrowed into the pillow and drew her knees up to her chest, trying to ignore the pain slicing through her ankle. All she wanted to do was sleep. If she could drift back into the dark, she wouldn’t hurt anymore. She wouldn’t be alone, and today would never have happened.
“Sit up.” Justin’s gentle voice sounded near her ear, and his warm breath tickled her neck. A strong hip pressed against her backside a moment before she felt a cool glass bump her lips. “Time for more medicine.”
She didn’t protest as he urged her halfway into a sitting position. She sipped the potent liquid, already craving the burn that sped through her system. His hand cupped the back of her head, his broad, calloused palm steady and supportive.
He’d made her go to the ER anyway, which had turned out to be a smart idea. She’d twisted her ankle and had a multitude of contusions, but she didn’t have a concussion. They’d been ready to give her a prescription when she informed them she was allergic to most OTCs and painkillers, which left her with only one thing to use to numb the pain—alcohol.
“You know I don’t drink,” she said between gulps. Already the artificial warmth was chasing away the cold.
“You do tonight.”
She couldn’t argue with that logic.
She eventually nudged the glass away. She licked her lips to catch every stray droplet of brandy and sank back against the pillow. Even narrowing her eyes to study Justin took a lot of effort. But she didn’t need to see the details to know exactly how he looked. God knows, he sat across from her at the bar often enough.
Thick dark hair, firm jaw, intense blue eyes. The cutest little worry lines fanning out from those eyes, though she’d never once seen him upset.
And oh, his mouth. Now that was a mouth made for long kisses.
His body worked for her too. He was tall, rangy. Nice shoulders, even nicer ass. Incredible ass. She blew out a breath that ruffled her bangs. She should probably feel guilty for noticing so much about Justin, but she didn’t. Especially after tonight.
Once upon a time, she’d done more than notice him. They’d been friends, then lovers, then back to friends until they’d drifted apart. When he’d walked into her bar years later, she’d been shocked. Rough and Ready wasn’t far from the college they’d attended, just a couple of towns over, but still.
Fate was a quirky bitch. She had to be. Because what were the chances she’d start to fall for a guy she’d missed the boat with years ago? A boat she hadn’t wanted to take a cruise on at the time for a lot of reasons.
But that was then. Now? A guy who offered a pleasant, low-intensity ride between the sheets fit her needs perfectly.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” she asked, hoping her face didn’t transmit her thoughts. He was great at reading expressions. Part and parcel of his job as a high school guidance counselor.
His lips twisted slightly. Normally he smiled so easily, one of the things she loved about him. She’d been around one too many men who didn’t know how to laugh, and that Justin did was refreshing. But tonight he’d been so serious. So focused.
On her.
Her belly fluttered. Justin Norton was one fine piece of man chocolate. Maybe she’d been wrong to appreciate his body while she’d been coupled up, but now that she was single, she couldn’t see any reason not to go for it. He wasn’t oblivious to her either. From their all too brief clinch on the trail, certain parts of him seemed interested, even if the rest had yet to follow suit.
Yep, just what she loved from a guy—mixed signals.
“You seem to have the alcohol tolerance of six sailors, so no. Though I have to admit I like seeing your eyes blurry with something other than pain.”
“I’m okay.” Dwelling on what couldn’t be helped wasn’t her style. She dealt and moved on. Always had, always would. “Did your neighbor go back and pick up my snowmobile?”
“Yeah. It’s out back. Mostly scratch-free. If you wanted to learn, I’d’ve been happy to give you some lessons.”
Figured he’d teach her how to snowmobile, but he wouldn’t kiss her. She didn’t give a hoot about snowmobiling. What she needed tonight was a carnal distraction. Somehow she had to burn the image of what she’d seen at Rob’s out of her mind.
“I hadn’t planned on taking it out. It was an anniversary present. I’d never been that excited about learning, but Rob thought we’d have fun.”
Enough about Rob. Enough about the accident. She’d escaped with nothing but bruises, so she’d just count her lucky stars and move on.
His thumb worried her painful cheekbone. She couldn’t hold back the wince. “Hurts, huh?”
She shrugged off the question. Her body ached, but luckily the soreness had started to lessen. Excellent brandy, a soft, sunken couch, and the warmth of the crackling fireplace across the room had gone a long way toward healing her. As had the attention of the man sitting beside her outstretched legs.
“Why didn’t you kiss me back?”
“That again.” He tapped her lips. “You’re like a dog with a bone. Every time you wake up, same damn question.”
“It’s a good question. I’m a decent kisser. Not that you’d know.”
“Hello, we kissed several times.” His grin warmed her inside out. “And other things.”
“True enough. So did you forget to tell me you’re not into women?”
He cocked a brow. “Hardly. I think you felt just how…into you I was.”