I gave a one-shouldered shrug. “My evening is a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure I remember Lucy Bigsby giving you some pretty strong signals.”
Tuck grinned. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. But, nope. I went home alone.”
I made a humming noise. “Not interested?”
Tuck headed out of town towards the old highway that led up the mountain road to Pine Meadow. “I guess she’s just not my type.”
I snorted. “You don’t have a type.”
Tuck’s scowl returned. “How would you know?”
“Because I’ve seen you pick up your share of women. And I’ve heard half the women over the age of twenty-one and under the age of fifty in this town talk about their encounters with you in far too much detail.”
Tuck shifted in his seat. “So, my tastes are varied. I’m a lover of women in all shapes and sizes. That’s not a crime.”
It was true. I’d seen Tuck with long and lean, short and curvy, plump and petite. He didn’t seem to see color or creed. He just saw female. “I actually think that’s nice. But it also means you don’t have a type.”
Tuck’s grip on the wheel tightened. “Maybe that’s changing.” His gaze flicked to me for the briefest of moments. “I’ve had a pretty specific type on my mind lately,” he muttered under his breath.
I glanced at Tuck out of the corner of my eye, something flickering in my chest. Hope, maybe? I needed to shove that down. Tuck was not for me. No one was.
By the timeTuck and I reached the meadow, fat flakes of snow were falling in earnest. He glanced up at the sky. “I think we should head back to the truck.”
I looked from him to the meadow and then back again. “I just want to get one quick peek. To make sure they’re okay.”
“Fifteen minutes. If we don’t find them by then, we’re heading back.”
“Deal.”
Of course, fifteen minutes turned into thirty, and by then, our boots were cutting through at least an inch of snow.
Tuck caught my elbow. “We have to turn back. If we don’t, we’ll never make it home, and I have zero desire to freeze to death in my truck on the side of the road.”
I studied the quickly accumulating snow. “You’re right. Can we come back when the weather’s better?”
“Of course. Whenever you want.” Tuck began leading us back the way we had come. I hadn’t thought about how much fast-falling snow would hamper our progress, but man, did it ever. Luckily, Tuck was so familiar with the area that we didn’t have to worry about finding the exact path. But we did have to worry about where we stepped.
After I’d rolled my ankle approximately five times, I tugged on Tuck’s coat. “You need to slow down, or I’m going to bite it.”
When Tuck turned, I saw little worry lines creasing his brow. “I’ll slow down.”
“Is everything okay?”
Tuck studied the sky and then the path ahead. “I’m worried about us making it back in this.”
Shit. I shouldn’t have pushed him to hike that extra thirty minutes. “I’ll go as fast as I can.”
“Don’t hurt yourself. Because if I have to carry you, that will only slow us down even more.”
I nodded and concentrated on exactly where I was putting my feet.
“I’ll shorten my stride. Just try to step where I do.”
I nodded and set my sights on the large boot prints his feet left behind. It took us at least three times as long to make it back to the truck than it usually did, and by the time we got there, at least eight inches of fresh powder covered the ground. I was soaking wet from my knees down, and I was freezing.
Tuck beeped his locks and helped me up into the truck. He rounded the vehicle with an agility that seemed otherworldly. Turning over the engine, he looked over at me. “I think we need to look for a place to stay up here. I don’t feel good about trying to tackle the mountain roads in this.”
I nodded, teeth chattering. “I just need to call my parents so they can keep Noah.”
