nothing at all to do with needing to see more of that body-
“You looking for the UPS guy?” Annie came up the stairs and tossed the day’s mail onto Katie’s desk. “It’s too early.”
Katie whipped guiltily around, trying to hide the fact that it wasn’t the UPS guy she’d been drooling over, but Annie’s beloved nephew. “Gotcha. Too early.” When Annie left, she turned back to the window.
Cam was gone.
“You have a problem with the oven?”
Katie looked over her shoulder at Nick’s voice, but she was alone in her alcove.
“No,” Annie said. “Why?”
Katie looked around again. Why were her walls talking?
“Your muffins this morning needed less time in it,” Nick said.
“Yeah?” Annie responded coldly. “Well, my air needs less of you in it.”
Katie looked over the railing. There. The soon-to-be-divorced couple stood nose-to-nose on the far end of the great room below, but the acoustics of the high ceilings had their voices carrying as if they stood right next to her.
“You’re impossible,” Annie told him.
“Ditto.” He nearly plowed Stone over as he passed him on his way out.
Stone raised a brow at Annie, who glared at him.
“I didn’t do anything,” Stone said, lifting his hands.
Annie sagged against the wall. “I know. Nick’s driving me crazy, my cookies burned, the UPS guy asked me out, and Cam’s looking at her.”
Stone blinked. “Her who?”
“Katie who.”
Katie went still.
“And she’s looking right back, Stone. He’s not ready. Who’s going to tell him?”
“He’s fine.”
“That’s what you said after I took him away from your father so he couldn’t beat the shit out of him anymore.”
“I said that because
“Stone-”
“Look, we just need to back the hell off him and let him be.”
“But-”
“No, no buts. The accident was a long time ago and he’s getting over it. He’s been getting into some of the expeditions, looking like he might stick around for a while. Leave him be, Ms. Doom and Gloom. Don’t stir it up.”
“I’m going to stir you up,” she mumbled. “Doom and Gloom my ass.”
They moved away, but Katie stood there long after they were gone, unable to go back to work. Her mind wouldn’t let her. It was locked on the image of Cam, big and bad and oh-so-tough Cam. Apparently that toughness had been hard earned, starting from early childhood and ending with some mysterious accident.
The sound of a loud engine had her turning back to the window, where Cam now straddled a huge snowmobile, revving the engine.
To her, the snowmobile seemed as terrifying as the Sno-Cat, but Cam turned his head and looked up at her, and she forgot to feel the kick of nerves. Like her, he’d been through hell and survived-many times apparently. She couldn’t see his eyes or even his expression, but something about his body language told her he was on edge.
She definitely wasn’t the only one fighting demons.
He lifted his hand off the handlebar, then lifted his head.
And just like that, her face heated, her glasses fogged, and her body reacted pretty much in the same way it had when he’d had his hands on her while ice-skating. She had no idea what he was thinking, but she knew what
He cocked his head, then crooked his first finger at her in an unmistakable “come here” gesture.
Oh, God.
She looked at the dangerous snowmobile, as dangerous as the guy astride it. She’d come here for a baby step, the first in a series of adventures. Going outside with him right now would be exactly that. Her next adventure, right there in front of her.
On a snowmobile.
Looking at her.
With a surge of adrenaline, she whirled to stare at her desk and the work on it, chewing on her thumbnail. Everyone deserved a quick break, right? Not every minute of every day had to be scheduled and analyzed, and oh my God, now she was standing there micromanaging the fact that she used to micromanage her time while Cam was outside on a snowmobile.
Hello, adventure waiting to happen.
Grabbing her jacket, she went running down the stairs to catch up with it.
Chapter 7
Cam watched Katie come flying out of the lodge, her clothes all neat and tidy, her hair perfectly pinned up on her head, all pretty perfection except for the jacket she’d left open in her hurry.
In the week and a half he’d known her, she seemed to be unwinding a bit. He wanted to unwind her some more.
Unwind and unwrap…
She came to a stop in front of him. “Hi.”
“Goldilocks.”
“You said we were a bad idea,” she reminded him.
“We are.”
She grinned at him, and he felt his own reluctantly tug at his mouth. Ah, man. He liked her. That simple. He liked her, and in his experience, that never ended well for anyone. “We got lots of snow last night,” he said. “It’s-”
“Beautiful.”
He’d been about to say “a pain in the ass,” because without racing in his life, a storm meant snowblowing, shoveling, clearing paths, making sure the clients could drive the three-mile gravel road in-
“I saw you limping.”
A bare admission that she’d been watching him. Another woman would have certainly played coy about that, but not this one. She didn’t seem to have a coy bone in her body. Nope, whatever she felt was right there on her face and her sleeve, for the whole world to see. He admired that about her even as he recoiled from it. “Just a lingering ache.”
“From an accident?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“What happened?”
“You really don’t know?” He thought everyone in the free world knew. It’d certainly been all over the news: GOLDEN
BOY FUCKS UP, NEWS AT 11:00.
“Does it have anything to do with why you stopped racing?”
“You could say that.” She could have looked him up on the Internet and read all about it, about the speculation that he’d been drinking, or abusing prescription meds-none of which had been true until after the crash, but that didn’t make good copy. And in any case, why else would a prime athlete crash out of nowhere?
