Be My Love (3 page)

His numb fingers ached from his tight grip on the handles. The wind sliced his skin, leaving it raw and blistered. He slowed the snowmobile down. Maybe he should turn around. At least the truck offered shelter.

The headlights snagged on a dark cabin looming in the field of white. The Jones’ cabin.
Thank fuck.
Eric sighed and his shoulders dropped as he pulled up to the front entrance. Brenna relaxed against him.

“Come on!” he yelled over the wind. He turned off the machine and hopped into the knee-deep snow.

Brenna slowly clambered down after him and dumped the emergency kit on the snowmobile. She moved less stiffly, but her injuries probably pained her more than she let on.

“Let me take that.” He reached for the backpack.

Brenna flinched.

“What the fuck, Brenna!” he said. “I’d never hurt you.” Well, he had hurt her, but not physically. He’d never raise a hand to a woman. With a grunt, he snatched the backpack’s strap and pulled the bag from her, then picked up the emergency kit. With both bags clutched in one hand, he grabbed Brenna’s hand and hauled her toward the cabin before she could protest, or flinch again.

Luckily, she didn’t put up a fight. Either too tired, too hurt or too cold, she let him pull her through the deep snow. She said nothing when he took the key from its not-so-secret hiding place, unlocked the door, and pushed her into the safety of the cabin. Eric followed her in and shut the door on the blizzard.

Flicking on the lights, the lodgepole pine cabin looked and smelled exactly as he remembered. Basic two-floor layout with bedrooms upstairs, and living room, kitchen and bathroom downstairs. The inside glowed a warm orange as the lights reflected off the interior wood, and illuminated the minimal furnishings. Pine, slightly infused with must, flooded his senses, but the stagnant air contained more warmth than outside.

Brenna stood stiffly in the middle of the room studying him. Her lips compressed into a thin line. “Thank you,” she said.

Hell, he was thankful he’d found her when he did. Surviving a night in that truck would’ve been difficult, and with her sore muscles and head injury, tramping through the forest…

Even if she survived the storm, the wolves would be out after the weather settled to search for their next meal. In the middle of winter, they’d be starved for food and would hunt anything available.

His gut twisted.

He dropped the backpack and emergency kit. The tension in his shoulders released. “You’re welcome.”

Her gaze flicked from him to the door.

Understanding hit him like a semi-truck. “I’m not fucking going out there again.”

She flinched.

“Look, Brenna. I know you think little of me, but I can’t go back to my parents’ cabin in this. It’s too dangerous.”

Her shoulders drooped.

What the hell?
He saved her life, and she wanted him to leave? To risk his life again, so she didn’t have to be in the same room as him? Un-fucking-believable.

She hated him. He got that. But this…unreasonable. The Brenna he knew throughout high school wouldn’t have been so spiteful, so…cold.

But then, the Brenna he knew was from years ago.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one who’d changed.

“I’ll get the fire going.” His heart fell heavy in his chest. “Did you want to make something warm to drink or take a hot bath?”

Brenna’s dark gaze turned to him again and narrowed.

“A bath will help relieve stiff and sore muscles. It looks like you need it.” Would probably help melt that cold heart, too. Of course, ice was probably the better option for reducing swelling, but already cold to the bone, the bath would be more relaxing.

“I’ll make some hot chocolate,” she said.

Her tone sounded resigned, but with the one statement, the anger and hurt coursing through his veins eased away. With a momentary truce, Eric set to building a fire. His mind reeled. He’d secretly hoped for an opportunity to be alone with Brenna. Now that he had the chance, though, did he even want it?

Had he been dreaming of a woman who no longer existed?

****

Brenna cursed as she clanked around the kitchen, making hot chocolate and putting away the food she’d brought. She also stashed the remaining packages of candy hearts. They seemed like such a childish thing, but they were a family tradition for Valentine’s. She snuck one last piece and enjoyed the sweet flavour rolling over her tongue.

Had she really suggested Eric go home in a blizzard after he saved her? What was she thinking? She acted like a spiteful hag, as if being nice to the man would put her in danger of falling for him again. She owed him her gratitude…and an apology.

He’d made a roaring fire before going back out to the snowmobile. She thought it odd, but he said he wanted to move it to a more sheltered location and grab the other emergency supplies, the ones kept with the machine. They needed more wood, too.

Oh heck, maybe he wanted to get away from the cold-hearted bitch and the tension stuffing up the cabin, so thick she could probably cut it with a butter knife.

While he tramped around outside, she’d taken a long soak in the bathtub, letting her sore muscles loosen up. She’d cleaned the cut on her forehead, and after staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, tension evaporated from her veins. Minor injuries. She’d walked out of that crash with insignificant bumps and bruises.

The bath and moving around had helped with the aches and stiffness. Why did Eric have to be right? It made it more difficult to hate him.

Now, she set cups down after filling them with steaming hot water. She stirred in the chocolate.

Eric had been gone for a while. Had he left?

Her chest constricted. He might’ve been a royal jerk back then, but he didn’t deserve to die in a blizzard. She wasn’t an idiot. Even with her head tucked into the protective shield of Eric’s back, the jarring snowmobile ride had scared the crap out of her. They’d been lucky to reach her parents’ cabin. No way would he make it back to his place in this storm.

She bit her lip as she continued to stir the hot chocolate. So determined to cling to her anger toward Eric, she’d acted like an idiot.

She glanced at the door.

Should she go after him? She tossed the idea away before chucking the spoon into the empty sink. If he’d left, there was nothing she could do.

Her stomach twisted into a knot. Nausea coiled and threatened to rise.
He better not have left!

Eric stomped up the stairs outside, and her stomach settled. The door opened, and a burst of bone-chilling snow-packed air blasted her from across the room.

Eric slammed the door shut with his foot and set an armful of wet logs by the fire to dry. He must’ve raided the wood pile by the side of the cabin.

He pulled off the ski goggles and cast a wary glance her way—probably in fear of more ice-queen shenanigans—before removing the purple toque. He placed both items by the fire to dry as well.

Her throat grew thick, and words failed her.

Eric slipped out of his thick winter jacket and snow pants, and hung them on the peg by the door beside her stuff.

Underneath his snow gear, he wore form-fitting dark denim jeans that clung to his powerful thighs and a navy blue T-shirt with a scuba diving logo, which accentuated his broad shoulders and strong arms.

She swallowed.

The last decade had been kind to Eric, aging him to perfection. The youthful pretty-boy looks had been replaced with harder edges, transforming him into a devastatingly attractive man. Instead of detracting from his looks, his wind-chapped cheeks carved an even more masculine image. Sandy brown hair, a narrow, straight nose between piercing green eyes, a square jaw with a couple days’ worth of stubble, and full kissable lips—Eric Buchanan had become more handsome than he deserved.

His shoulders remained tense. His gaze flicked to her while his mouth flattened. He straightened his tall, fit frame. For the first time since he rescued her, he looked unsure of what to do.

“Here.” She held out a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

Eric nodded and closed the distance to take the mug from her. His cold hand briefly closed around hers, but didn’t linger. In fact, he jerked the hot chocolate away so quickly, some of the frothy liquid slopped over the rim.

“Look—” she started.

“Listen—” he said.

She rocked back on her heels, while he ran a hand through his silky hair.

“Ladies first.” His voice always had a rough timbre to it, like he was part mountain man. Even when she despised him, she couldn’t bring herself to hate his voice. It vibrated along her skin and sank in to warm her bones. It hadn’t lost any of its potent power over the years; instead, it had gained new depth.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “For suggesting you go. You saved me today and didn’t deserve that. Thank you for getting me out of the truck and bringing me here.”

His shoulders relaxed, and his mouth softened. “You’re welcome.”

They stared at their hot chocolate in silence. At least she did. She couldn’t bring herself to maintain eye contact any longer.

“Brenna.” He cleared his throat. “I know I hurt you that summer, and I’m sorry.”

Immediate denial caught in her throat. She wanted to say he hadn’t hurt her, that she hadn’t cared enough for his actions to cut deep, but that would be a lie. And who was she trying to fool? The apology, though years late, warmed her more than the roaring fire.

“I hope we can use this time to catch up,” he continued as if oblivious to the impact of his words. “You might’ve left without looking back, but I always wondered what happened to you. We have nothing else to do, so why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to?”

Brenna almost laughed. He thought she hadn’t looked back? That she’d gone off without a second thought? What would he think if he knew she replayed their first and only kiss more than a few times? More than she cared to admit? That she used that moment, though fleeting and short lived, as a benchmark for all guys?

Instead of laughing, she made the mistake of looking up. Eric’s green gaze bore into hers, and something flopped around in her chest. Maybe it was her heart. Maybe it was her resolve to stay pissed at him.

Crap.

Less than an hour with the guy and she was falling under his spell all over again.

She was doomed.

****

Eric listened to Brenna as she sat on the opposite end of the faded blue couch. She’d curled up to lean against the armrest with her feet tucked under her. Worn jeans and a purple shirt fit her snugly, leaving little doubt to the perfection of her body. Her cheeks flushed with a ruddy red from the harsh conditions outside. She’d cleaned the cut on her forehead and although it looked red and a bit angry, it wasn’t deep.

In the truck, she’d worn a bulky jacket, and her features had been shrouded in shadow. There’d been no time to truly take in her appearance. Now, in the warm light of the cabin and flickering fireplace, Eric sat stunned by her natural beauty.

She’d always been good looking, but since he’d last seen her, she’d transformed from a pretty girl with a boyish figure to a remarkable woman. The stylish bob of her dark brown hair framed her pixie nose, pouty full lips, and those large, soulful brown eyes that haunted his dreams. Surrounded by thick dark lashes, her elfin gaze expressed every thought and feeling. She’d be terrible at poker.

As she talked, Eric struggled to keep his gaze from drifting, but occasionally she’d look away or turn, and his gaze travelled down her body, catching a glimpse of her womanly curves before he corrected himself.

Despite his roaming eyes, he hung on every word she said, banking the details in his memory. He knew bits and pieces about her already. He always made a point to ask her parents about her when he ran into them during their seasonal vacations at the cabin. Though he hadn’t seen Brenna in a long time, he still carried the feeling he knew her well.

They’d covered the basics. She worked in the health field, he was a project manager for the provincial energy company, and they both lived in Vancouver, only thirty minutes apart. He wanted a job where he could move out of the city, and she wanted to travel more.

One question kept replaying through his mind as she discussed becoming a cardiology technologist, and places she’d visited when she caught the backpacking bug urging her to discover new places and people. Why had he been such an idiot?

Why hadn’t he chased after her and explained what had really happened that night ten years ago?

“Do you want another hot chocolate?” she asked.

He palmed his warm mug and sat up. “Sure, but why don’t I make this round?”

She bit her lip. “No, that’s okay. I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?” He held out his mug.

Her delicate hand briefly touched his as she took the cup from him. She studied the empty contents, but made no move to get up. “I guess I still feel bad about earlier.”

His mouth twitched, and his body swayed forward. He wanted to kiss the frown from her forehead, but such a move would probably be met with a slap to the face, or a punch to the gut. Knowing Mr. Jones, the man would’ve taught his daughter a thing or two about defending herself. Besides, he wanted her
forgiveness.

Oh hell, he wanted a lot more than that.

“So you plan to ply me with chocolate beverages?” he asked, settling back in his seat.