“I didn’t know those men specifically,” Nate says, “but clearly they were the Ramsays’ people.”
“How did you know?”
“I had a feeling. I saw a car with Ohio plates parked near the post office. It had tinted windows, and I thought it looked a bit out of place. I hoped I was only being paranoid but obviously not.”
“You think the Ramsays followed us here?”
“Do you have some murderous ex-boyfriend you haven’t told me about,” Nate asks, “or high school rival that might want to shoot at you?”
“No.”
“Then, yeah, it looks like they followed us here.” He holds me a little closer. “They were watching you, not me. I think they were supposed to grab you and take you back to Cascade Falls.”
“Why?”
“They know we’re here, so they probably know we’re figuring things out. They don’t want us to know everything—that much is clear.”
“But if they already know I’m a Ramsay, why would they try to kidnap me?”
“To get you on their side.”
“Humph!” I press my lips together. “I can’t imagine that would endear them to me.”
“Once they have you, they can be very…persuasive.”
I don’t think I want to know what he means by that, so I don’t press the issue. I lean my head against his uninjured shoulder and look around the inside of the small wooden structure. Aside from the bench seat with a boarded-up hole in the center, there isn’t a lot to be seen. A small shelf juts out from the wall, and stones line the floor by our feet. A slight amount of light shines in from the crescent moon carved into the top of the door.
The air is certainly warmer out of the wind and snow, but it’s still cold inside the shack. I watch my breath escape in a puff and shiver. Nate hugs me to his chest, offering a little more warmth.
I stifle a laugh.
“What so funny?”
“I just…I never expected to be stuck in an outhouse with a known gangster in the middle of a blizzard!”
“Hey now,” Nate says, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “I take exception to that characterization.”
“Are you saying you’re not a gangster?”
“I’m saying this is barely a blizzard. Just a winter squall.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” I glance up at the tiny, crescent opening. Only dim, grey light shines in. “It’s getting late, and Bernard said it was going to be a big storm.”
“Is he the town meteorologist as well as the snow-shoveler?”
“He runs a repair shop, but he does keep his eye on the weather, yes. It’s also getting late. With or without a storm, it’s going to get very dark, very quickly.”
“It’s only a little after six o’clock,” Nate says. “Not that late.”
“But it will be dark soon.”
“I’m not going to let you freeze to death out here, Cherry. We’ll wait a while and then make our way back to the car. My gun is in my overnight bag. I’m still kicking myself for not carrying it, but I’ll feel a lot better about this when I have it on me.”
“I don’t want you getting hurt,” I say.
“I’m more concerned about you.” He runs a cold finger over my cheekbone. “Are you warm enough? Your cheeks are the same color as your hair.”
“Better than when we were outside. Neither of us is dressed to be out in this. I didn’t consider getting caught out in a snowstorm.”
“How far is your house from here?”
“It’s just on the other side of the field,” I tell him. “Maybe a ten-minute walk.”
“We’ll get back there and into the heat before the sun sets,” Nate promises. “Does the fireplace in the house work?”
“Yes. I used it a lot over the winter. There’s a woodpile behind the house.”
“You just imagine a nice, warm fire,” Nate says, “and I’ll make it a reality before you know it.”
“Sounds great for later,” I say, “but hardly making a difference at the moment.”
“Maybe this will help.” Nate places his hand on the back of my head and pulls me to him.
He kisses me softly, our tongues and lips meshing together in our own perfect rhythm. My heart beats faster, and a warm tingle develops on my skin.
“Better?” Nate pulls away slightly, grins, and then moves to my neck.
“Maybe a little,” I say as I tilt my head back to give him better access. “Mmm…that’s nice.”
“See? We don’t need a fire. We have each other for warmth.”
I do feel warmer. Even though I’m aware of the cool air around me and the sound of the snowstorm outside, all my thoughts are focused on what Nate is doing as he continues to trail kisses over my neck until I start to moan.
“I love that sound.” He whispers against my skin. “I love hearing what I’m doing to you.”
Nate moves his hands over my arms, shoulders, and back as I kiss him again. From where I sit on his lap, I can feel him harden beneath me, and soon he starts pressing upward with his hips, grinding into my backside.
“Nate, that’s not going to work.”
“Sure, it will.” His fingers grip my thighs briefly before he slides his hand between my legs. “I can already feel a lot more warmth here.”
I moan as he pushes my legs a little farther apart and rubs at me through my jeans. His lips find mine again, and I lose myself in the sensations as my clit begins to throb. I feel him push my jacket open just far enough to get his hand inside and cup my breast. I break the kiss and place my hand over his arm.
“You can’t be serious.” I snicker and shake my head.
“Why not? It will keep us warm.”
“Because we’re in
