“Come on…” I shook my head. “It isn’t my fault you live in the stone ages where the Internet hasn’t been invented yet!”
“We have road signs. You can buy a map at every gas station you pass. That’s how people navigated back in the olden days before you were born.” He sipped his coffee again.
“Oh, you mean when you were my age?” I wrinkled my nose at him.
“Ouch…” He shook his head. “I’m not that old, jeez.”
“So, what do you do for fun around here?” I looked around the cabin. “When you’re not saving girls that nearly freeze to death in their cars…”
“Well, I have a nice library. The television works. The radio works, lucky for you because that is where I heard you were missing. Honestly, I don’t have much need for fun. There’s always something to do between hunting, fishing, tending to my garden, and keeping this place standing.” He nodded and motioned to the cabin.
“Most of those aren’t really doable now, considering the blizzard.” I pursed my lips and raised my eyebrows. “I mean, we could read…I guess.”
“Oh, you mean a day like today?” He slid off his barstool. “No, there ain’t shit to do today—except get drunk.”
“I’ve never been a whiskey girl, but it’s growing on me.” A smile spread across my face.
The coffee had barely settled into my stomach when it was joined by a generous gulp of whiskey. It didn’t taste nearly as bad as it did the night before, but it still burned my throat. After my first glass, I decided to take it slow, but the buzz was already starting to create the kind of thoughts I really didn’t need to have with a man like Shane so close to me.
Breathe. Just breathe.
I walked over and checked my phone, but even though it was fully charged, I had the same blank bars I had when I was trapped in my car. Shane turned on the radio and walked up behind me, putting his hand on my shoulder. It wasn’t a song I loved, but it was a nice melody. Shane took my hand and lead me to an open area in the middle of the cabin.
What the heck is he doing. Are we going to dance?
The tough man who looked like he could punch a hole straight through the log cabin wall suddenly broke out some dance moves that looked like they were out of a movie. It was sensual and sweet, with his hips moving like they were guided by magic when he pushed up against me.
I was raised on hip hop, which didn’t have a lot of great technique to the moves, so I couldn’t keep up very well, but he guided me through the steps. I felt like a ballroom dancer, and when he spun me around to pull me close, I didn’t want to be anywhere else.
This is…this is bad. Oh God, he’s an amazing dancer.
I couldn’t help but be impressed. The song ended and the station went to commercials, which ended our attempt at creating our own version of Dirty Dancing. I left his embrace and picked up my drink, lifting it to my lips for another generous gulp of the whiskey. Shane picked up his drink and took a seat on the stool he was previously occupying.
“So you like to dance?” I sat down beside him again, lifting my glass to my lips.
“I enjoy a few nice things.” He looked over at me. “When I have the right partner.”
Wow.
That sent a tingle through my body.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” I ran my finger down his arm and took his glass in my hand. “You need a refill.”
“I need something.” His eyes reflected a hint of desire and I knew it was the same thing I was feeling.
I refilled our drinks and walked back over to him. He let his finger graze my hand when he took the glass, holding it for a moment before he finally lifted the whiskey to his lips. His eyes were locked on me and they were more intoxicating than the whiskey. He finally broke the gaze and slid off the stool.
“My family used to own all of the land on the mountain. Everything west of Wolf Creek used to belong to someone with the last name Black.” He looked out the window at the snow.
Well that is one way to change the direction of the conversation when it is getting good.
“What happened?” I walked over and stood beside him.
“Divorces, mostly.” He chuckled. “My great-grandfather loved women and they loved to get a piece of his land when he was done with them.”
“Too bad they didn’t have prenuptial agreements back then.” I shrugged as I sipped my whiskey.
“Yeah, needless to say the women didn’t care much about keeping the land in the family. They sold it off when the offers were right and tourism took over.” He took another drink. “His divorces probably saved Wolf Creek, because if it wasn’t for the tourists, everything would be shut down.”