“Should I turn my coat into a pillow too?” She’d have to take it off to do that.
“Only if you’re worried you’re bunking with a pillow hog. I’ve been accused of needing work on my bed etiquette, but stealing pillows wasn’t one of the complaints.”
Her brain began dissecting and rearranging scenarios that involved him in bed until she ordered it to stop. Instead, she focused on being thankful this grumpy guy was able to maintain even a sliver of humor.
She removed her coat, folded it beside his, and shimmied into the nest he’d created. She lay on her side, making herself as narrow as possible, facing the back of the seat. Sliding behind her, he tugged the covers over his shoulders, and a woodsy man smell enveloped her. She froze at the feel of his big body behind hers, luxuriating in his heat while trying to keep some distance between them. Doing so proved impossible on the narrow bench seat. He folded one arm under his head and draped the other over his hip, taking obvious care not to touch her more than he had to.
“You warm enough?” His chest rumbled with the words.
“Y-yes,” she stammered. “What about you?” The blankets weren’t big enough to cover them both completely, and his frame was too long to fully extend, so his backhadto be exposed to the cold.
“I’ll live. We can switch it up if we need to.” His warm breath stroked her cheek.
He tucked his knees behind hers and shifted his weight in the too-tight space, his limbs stretching, flexing, and finally softening. He was all hard angles and planes, and an unwanted thrill coursed through her entire body. She couldn’t recall lying beside a man who felt so … manly.
Silent beats followed, and the awkwardness became too much. Her mind sifted through various ways to distract itself. What it came up with, unfortunately, did little to achieve that goal.
“It’s probably a little late for this, but do you have a significant other you’ll need to explain this, um, situation to?”
“Nope. Free as a bird.”
Why that made her heart beat its own wings, she couldn’t say.
Chapter 8
Makeshift Pillow Talk
“This is really weird.”Hailey’s small shoulder blades moved with her whispered words.
Weird didn’t begin to describe the otherworldly situation. Mere hours before, Noah had been wrangling with a handful of problems that had seemed monumental. Hell, theyhadbeen monumental. Now he was trapped in a blizzard, curled around a woman he hadn’t known existed before today.
When he wasn’t wedged in with her, he was wrapping up a pitiful mutt who didn’t know enough to stay covered, running his truck while watching its gas gauge needle drop, or he was outside shoveling an endless pile of snow and clearing the truck’s tailpipe.
“It’s weird, right?” she prodded.
Noah mumbled, “Yeah, a little surreal. But try to relax.” Were those words for her or him?No idea.And they were easy to say, but not easy to do.
While his “guest” was probably anxious about spending the night in freezing temperatures with a complete stranger, he was focused onnotnoticing how good her flowery shampoo smelled or how perfect her warm weight felt nestled against him. How he could be so distracted in the middle of a snowstorm that might kill them both eluded him.
He was also struggling to keep his crotch from touching her ass without falling off the narrow seat. His dick, with the impulse control of an eleven-year-old, was clueless about their current predicament. It wanted what it wanted. And while he liked to believe he could wrestle it into submission, sometimes he lost the match and was left with regret and consequences. Hooking up with Sandy was a glaring example of what happened when the head on his shoulders gave in to the head in his pants.
Noah’s father often said Noah lacked self-correction skills because he was incapable of taking a hard look at himself. When it came to business and finance, that statement wasn’t true anymore. A good chunk of his downtime was spent analyzing his mistakes, beating himself up for some respectable period, and searching out solutions.
But his personal life? The self-assessment and makeover in that area were seriously lagging, though he’d taken a few stabs at it lately. He’d had little choice. Ursula kept showingup with one lame excuse after another, under the pretext of Silver Summit business. It was the same sort of dance she always performed when she was trying to weasel back into his life. This time, though, he saw it for what it was, taking a closer look at the dynamic in their decades-old relationship. Studying it was one thing, but coming up with answers? He had yet to reach an epiphany, except that sleeping with Sandy was somehow tied to Ursula. And that was as far as his self-insight went.
Hailey turned to look at him, interrupting his runaway freight train of thoughts. Her soft hair tickled his nose. “Do you think we’re in danger of being mauled by bears?”
He blinked, trying to process her question while simultaneously pulling in the sweet honeysuckle scent scrambling his brain. “Bears aren’t out foraging right now. They’re as hunkered down as we are.”
She turned away, and a few strands stuck to his beard. He brushed them away, enjoying their silky feel a little too much. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with him? Yet something about Hailey made him feel undeniably good lying next to her, in counterbalance to the negativity spiraling inside him. Which made absolutely no sense. He wasn’t evenattracted to her. Had to be the danger pressing in around them, right? Survival instinct in full throttle, encouraging him to create little Noahs to carry on the bloodline or some primeval shit like that. He needed a deflection.
“Where were you coming from when you spotted Rover?”
“From Durango. I had Friday afternoon off, so I spent the night so I could visit Mesa Verde before tourist season. The weather wasnicethen.”
“Yeah, the warm before the storm.”
“Except they never predicted anepicstorm.” Her huff held a cute indignation.
