Inside, Scout directed Ciara to the room he’d always slept in upstairs. JT had the bedroom across the way, with a loft separating them.
Ciara was shaking from head to toe. Scout stoked the fire to get it blazing. Then he told her, “Take a hot bath or shower. I’ll get us something to eat and you can try to thaw out.”
She didn’t say anything. Just went into the large bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her.
And here it is.
Scout’s moment of reckoning had arrived.
Chapter Eight
Ciara took a long, hot shower. She wasn’t sure she’d ever “thaw out” as Scout had suggested. She was chilled to the bone and it had nothing to do with the weather.
Terror had seized her when she’d realized Gaby was on the road during the avalanche. That terror had escalated when Ciara had seen the rental car she’d passed with Gaby inside, suddenly covered in snow—and no Gaby in sight.
That entire scene could have been so much worse. They were all lucky no one had been injured or trapped. Especially because it had looked like people should have been injured or trapped. Yet perhaps there’d been a little divine intervention from Grandpa Win. It was pretty much his mountain, after all.
Now, it was the return of the tumultuous state of affairs with Scout that left Ciara feeling frigid to the core. Sure, hazardous situations, even if they were only potentially life-threatening, were supposed to make you thankful for your good fortune and survival. Make you forgive and forget. Let bygones be bygones and start anew.
But Ciara couldn’t really get there in her mind. What Scout had done to her was incredibly out of character for him. Jekyll and Hyde, all the way. And while she was still miffed, she was also worried about him. He hadn’t been forthcoming of late, though. Did he plan to keep it all inside, or would he finally open up to her?
Or… Was this his way of permanently keeping her at arm’s length, emotionally?
She mulled this over as she located a spare blow-dryer and toothbrush under the double vanity. She freshened up and then went into the bedroom, a plush white towel wrapped around her. There was a roaring fire in the hearth and the heat felt wonderful against her skin.
Scout asked, “You want something to wear from the dresser or my bag?”
Her jeans wouldn’t be dry for hours, unless she had Scout take them down to the laundry room. But he’d tempted her with his offer. She said, “Your bag.”
He dug out wool socks. Then held up two options to choose from. A sweatshirt or a tee.
She eyed them both, then told him, “I want the sweater you’re wearing.”
A navy-colored V-neck that would not only be warm, but it would smell like Scout.
And he’d know that was why she’d selected it. He dropped the others back into the bag and dragged off the sweater. Handed it over. Ciara held the material to her nose and inhaled deeply. Loving the woodsy, virile scent.
She unraveled the towel and dressed. When she turned back to Scout, his gaze was glued to her and desire burned in his eyes.
She tried not to get swept away. It was damn near impossible.
Scout had set out food on the end table between two chairs in front of the fireplace. He’d uncorked a bottle of Sangiovese, her favorite.
He said, “JT needed a brotherly moment downstairs after what could have been a huge disaster on Avalanche Road. It was actually…cathartic. I think we’re all moving into a better space. Even Ham’s seeing things a bit more clearly. Cooking like a banshee, but whatever. There’s a ton of food in the fridge, and the cupboards and pantry are well stocked. Think he’s totally missing his calling in life as a chef. But he’s currently got bigger fish to fry.”
“Ha, ha,” she jested. “Though you’re right. I didn’t know Gaby was pregnant.”
“I’ll let her share all the details with you.”
Scout could always be counted on to keep others’ secrets, never spilling their beans. Didn’t really like spilling his own, clearly.
He said, “I brought you cheese enchiladas or you can split my pastrami sandwich with me.”
The enchiladas smelled heavenly, but the mile-high sandwich oozing melted Swiss made her stomach rumble. She hadn’t eaten all day.
“Everything’s organic, grass-fed, whatever,” Scout said with a shrug.
“You’ve got something against organic food?”