Survival 101
Could this get anymore surreal? Was surly Noah Hunnicutt also Mr. Hottie Bartender? The name rang a bell, though she couldn’t place it with her mind consumed by survival. With the beanie pulled down to his brows, she wasn’t a hundred percent sure. Either way, though, was he someone she’d have to defend herself against? Not that she had much chance against a dude who had a foot andat leastsixty pounds of solid muscle on her.
Her jitters jangled in her bloodstream. It was one thing for him to be the star of her nighttime fantasies, but climbing into a truck with the real deal … What choice, besides freezing to death, did she have, though?
With her go-pack strapped on, she slid down the steep embankment after him as he plowed down the slope, cradling the dog in his arms on his way to his black Ford truck. If he were Ted Bundy reincarnate, he wouldn’t have rescued a random mutt in a snowstorm, nor would he be so gentle with him now, would he? No, he would not, she reassuredherself.
Noah grunted in her general direction. “Can you get the back door?” She opened it, and he jerked his chin toward the interior. “There’s a blanket under the seat. If you spread it out, I’ll lay him on it.”
She reached in and retrieved a scratchy maroon blanket, laying it over a brown leather bench seat. A quick scan of the interior revealed that the rest of the vehicle was as richly appointed and surprisingly tidy. “Luxurious” and “pickup truck” didn’t go together. Not in her lexicon anyway. With the way her father had pissed through money, luxury had been an abstract concept for most of her life.
Shutting the door, Noah looked down at her. Eyes that glittered like green cut glass seemed to drill right into her soul and ferret out every secret. Nearly a year ago, she’d been caught in that gaze when she’d first seen him working behind the bar, but that had been at a distance. Now, up close, its intensity fired up weird flutters in her tummy. She tried to look away but couldn’t. She blinked instead.
He swiped tiny crystals from the long, dark lashes framing those emerald eyes. “I know. The snow keeps getting in my eyes too.” She didn’t bother correcting him. “Let’s get into the truck and warm up.”
With that, he clambered into the driver’s seat and pulled the door closed. Hailey made her way around the hood, climbed inside the back, and parked her butt on the bench seat beside Rover. The dog rolled bewildered eyes toward her as she stroked his matted fur; his bony body quivered beneath her touch.
Noah started the engine, and a man’s deep, familiar voice boomed over the speakers. Rover jerked. The volume immediately dropped as Noah poked at the screen. “Sorry,” he rumbled. “I had the volume cranked up so I could hear it over the storm.”
“Are you … is that thePirate History Podcastwith Matt Albers?”
He turned partway in his seat to look at her. “You know it?”
She crossed her fingers. “Oh yeah. Matt and I are like this.”Yay! Common ground.
His sable brows pinched together, forming deep vertical creases between them. His broody eyes pierced hers once more before he turned back to the dashboard with a barely detectable huff. He picked up his phone, his thumbs flying over the keyboard.
Or not.
Long minutes unfurled. “I’m gonna try Charlie again,” he mumbled.
Some people had laugh lines around their eyes and mouths, but Noah’s muscle memory showed itself in his frown. Where was that easy smile she’d seen him flashing in the bar? Maybe it had all been part of a bartender act.
Ringing came through the speakers, and a male voice answered, “Everything okay?”
“As well as can be expected. I’m in the truck. Did you get hold of Micky? I tried Reece but got no reply.”
“And you won’t. Reece was deployed to search for lost heli-skiers. As for Micky, Coal Bank Pass is closed, dude. Nobody’s getting up there until it reopens.”
Noah dropped a few f-bombs under his breath. “Let me give you my location before reception goes to shit. And if someone has to track me, my GPS is on.”
“Go,” Charlie urged. “Then text them to me, just in case.”
Noah read off a few coordinates.
“Got ’em. What’s your sitch?”
“I’ve got about six gallons of gas, so I figure if I run the engine for ten minutes every hour, the fuel will last the rest of the night.”
A frisson of panic bloomed inside Hailey.Oh God, please don’t let us be here all night!
“Good, and now the signal seems to be holding, so we can stay in touch,” Charlie replied. “Did you say earlier someone’s with you?”
“Yeah, so watch the language. You’re on loudspeaker.”
“Oh shit. Sorry if I offended you, Noah’s passenger.” Charlie’s tone held a hint of a grin.
“Her name is Hailey. Bailey. Hailey Bailey.” Noah turned his head, and she took in his strong profile. Squared-off jawline covered by a short beard, chiseled cheekbones, aquiline nose. Even from the side, the deep green of his eyes caught the light. “Hailey, meet my younger brother, Charlie, the golden retriever of the family.”
