The 48 Hour Hookup (Chase Brothers) (13 page)

“Of course it’s his first time,” Claire said. “I told you I was a disaster with all things snow and ice.”

The driver looked back over his shoulder as the sleigh jolted backward. “She’s a disaster?”

“She’s wearing a horse blanket and holding a cup of hot chocolate,” Liam said. “She’s currently the least disastrous person on earth.”

“We shouldn’t be going backward,” the driver said, trying to urge the horse forward, or so Liam assumed, because he knew shit about horses other than apparently they found the nonstop jingling of bells as annoying as he did.

“The ride isn’t as smooth this way,” Liam said. “But on the plus side, the bells aren’t making nearly as much noise.”

Pretty much on cue, the horse jumped sideways in response to something the driver did, and the sled tilted and came to a jarring halt. And just like that, the world was strangely silent, at least until the horse blew out a breath that made him sound more dragon than equine. “I think we’re stuck in a rut or something,” the driver said, his tone dubious.

Of course they were. They were leaning at a worrisome angle, and the tracks beneath them were deep enough to have cut through the snow and into mud.

“Been doing this job long?” Claire asked, her brow raised.

“Since I was knee high,” the driver said. “It’s fine. He’s just—” He quit talking when they jolted, followed by the sound of a snap. Which was apparently something the horse didn’t like, because that enormous, cumbersome looking beast took off like he was in the Kentucky Derby. Only he was only half attached to the sled, so he ended up spinning them in a circle before the last harness strap finally snapped. Which was how they ended up tipped at a good thirty degrees, wearing hot chocolate and wet horse blankets, while a two-thousand-pound draft horse kicked divots of filthy snow in their faces on a mad dash the hell out of there.

Thirty fucking minutes from town.

For the longest time, no one moved. Once the thunder of hoof beats and wildly jingling bells faded, there was only the light dripping of melted snow falling from the trees and a bewildered driver and Claire giving him the most reluctantly victorious
I told you so
look that had ever existed.

“It’s funny,” Liam finally said, because someone had to say something. Sitting there about to fall over was just plain awkward. Especially next to a woman who knew she’d been right. “The infamous Runaway Bride meets runaway horse.”

He realized his mistake about the time the words left his mouth. Claire had gone there to escape the whole runaway bride thing, and he’d just outed her. To a kid young enough to have been raised on social media, but who might not have thought anything about it before she slammed her hot chocolate cup against his chest. Warm, dark liquid exploded covered his jacket. Apparently she’d spilled less of her drink in the incident than he had.

“
So says Hot HVAC Guy
,” she fired back with a murderous glare.

The driver, who had been watching them, wide-eyed, said, “Hot HVAC Guy?
The
Hot HVAC Guy? Hey, I’ve heard of you.”

Liam looked up from the hot chocolate that had spilled from the broken cup and was now soaking into his jacket. “Me? You’ve heard of me, but not
her
?”

“I am not
her
,” Claire shouted.

“I think you’re a her,” Liam said as she half-climbed, half fell out of the sleigh. “Should she be doing that?” he asked the driver.

“Yeah, I think we’re going to have to walk.” He jumped down and turned to give Liam a hand, but he handled it on his own. “Are you really Hot HVAC Guy?”

“Yeah. Look, I’ll fucking autograph a fifty-dollar bill and hand it to you as a tip if you’ll keep this to yourself.”

The kid looked from Liam toward the direction the horse had disappeared and back to Liam. “I’m going to have to explain the horse.”

“Not the horse, man. All references to runaway brides and HVAC anything. That part.”

“Okay. I guess.” He nodded in the direction of Claire, who was by then several yards in front of them. “I’m real sorry, sir. I’ll make sure you get a full refund.”

“Keep it.” Liam knew what it was like to get by as a small business. Besides, dubious decision of permanently attached bells aside, the stable hadn’t done anything wrong. Liam and Claire both had had to sign waivers before getting on the sled, and in doing so had agreed to accept fates much worse. “You promised an unforgettable afternoon,” Liam said, trying to sound reassuring because the kid looked like he might cry, “and we got one.”

In more ways than one.

Because he’d just outed her in the one place she could still be herself.

Worse, Runaway Bride and Hot HVAC Guy had just become a thing.

A match made in media hell.

It could be nothing less.

Chapter Thirteen

Liam was really glad he still had the keys in his pocket. Claire was already in the truck, glaring, and he was pretty sure she would have left without him given half a chance. He walked past her without more than a passing glance and hit the little grocery store just up the block from where they’d parked. If she wanted to join him, she could see easily enough where he’d gone. But he remembered that she needed groceries and had no intention of leaving without them, so he’d wing it.

He’d wing it with beer.

He also grabbed a couple bottles of the wine she kept on hand and the ingredients for a double batch of white chicken chili. It was probably the only recipe he knew that wasn’t prepped on a grill. He didn’t know if it went with her wine or not, but if she didn’t want to be seen with him, any lack of a suitable food and wine pairing was her problem. Beer went with
everything
. At the last minute, he threw an entire display of overpriced ornaments on the conveyor. He paid, then had a hell of a time carrying everything back to the truck, even with the bagger’s help.

Claire didn’t even look up as he loaded the stuff in the back, though he knew she had to have glanced up at least once to see him coming or she wouldn’t have her attention so purposefully pegged to her lap.

He tipped the bag boy and climbed inside. “You want coffee before we go?” he asked as he fired up the truck.

“No,” she muttered. “Yes. Dammit. I’ll be right back.”

She came back a few minutes later carrying two cups. “Here. I asked for plain, boring coffee with a shot of nothing.”

He snorted. “Confused the hell out of the barista, didn’t it?”

She smiled, though obviously against her will. “Actually, it did.”

And just like that, they’d forged a tiny truce. One of which he took full advantage.

“Look,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say anything, but in my defense, there’s no way that kid would have made that connection. You’re not the world’s only runaway bride. I mean, a couple years back they put one on billboards across the country. It was a thing before you.”

She sighed, frustration evident. “In
my
defense, you knew I came here to get away from that.”

“And in
mine
,” he countered, “he didn’t know shit until you threw that Hot HVAC Guy thing out there.”

“I’m sorry,” she bit out. “Or maybe not, because you had no right to out me. It’s not like I wanted to be that person. I never
opted
to have my engagements blow up in my face
literally
right before walking down the aisle. You know what? I own it, and I’m proud of it. I didn’t settle, and I still wouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean I need the entire town knowing I’m here. I just want to be…normal.”

“And you can’t be normal with the HVAC guy.” It was more of a profound truth than a statement she needed to address. That particular bit of writing had long been on the wall.

“You and I could never be normal together,” she said, confirming every thought he’d ever had about them. Or at least every argument against.

But that didn’t make him want her any less, which was damned inconvenient. He shot her a quick sideways look. “That’s because you and I are fucking fantastic together.”

“I don’t think we can spend our entire lives
fucking
.”

He glanced at her in surprise. “I never thought I’d ever hear that word come from your mouth.”

“Yeah, well, you missed a whole bunch of good ones walking back from that sleigh disaster.”

He’d just bet he had. He shifted the truck into gear and looked behind him. The slanted on-street parking didn’t work so well with a big vehicle, which was almost ridiculous because nearly all he saw were big trucks, crammed door handle to door handle in narrow spots better suited for bicycles. Not that parking in New York City was any picnic. Of course, in the city he didn’t usually have to wait for snowmobiles to clear the road, which was a thing on this particular Main Street. He shook his head as a trio passed behind him.

Small towns
.

He couldn’t wait to get back to the city.

Once traffic cleared, he eased out of the spot and headed toward the lodge. “So you thought I was hot?”

He was goading her, not really expecting a reply, and not really needing one…especially since
hot
was a downgrade from her previously stated
stupendously hot
. But she sure gave him an answer. “Me and half the Internet.”

Well, okay then. “But you actually did?”

He could have sworn she rolled her eyes, but it was hard to tell when he couldn’t take his eyes off the icy road for more than a split second. “No,” she said, “I lied earlier when I said I thought about you. I
actually
think you’re a troll, but the sex happened anyway.”

“That’s not terribly flattering for either one of us,” he pointed out.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Do you think you’ll go back to the city?” An abrupt change of subject, but one that was oddly important to him. Probably because he needed to avoid her.

She sighed. “Eventually. I’m not in any hurry, and my station manager told me to take all the time I needed. That doesn’t bode well.”

They passed a break in the trees along the roadside, giving him a glimpse of the broad side of a mountain with wide white snow-covered lanes streaking it. A ski resort. He waited, but the gut-punch longing to be there instead of almost anywhere else didn’t hit. That disconcerted him. Who the hell would rather be on the tail end of an argument with a woman who posed more complications than possibly anyone else on earth when there were miles of trails
right there
?

Him.

Apparently him.

He tightened his grip on the wheel when they hit a patch of slush that dragged the tires left. Too bad he couldn’t so easily get a grip on what he felt for her. Or why. “So what if instead he’d told you that you were fired?
Claire, you’re fired
. What’s your gut reaction to that?”

She remained quiet for a moment, then said, “I feel like I’ve already lost what I loved about that job. I miss the way it was, before I became the story. I’m not sure it’s possible to go back.”

He shrugged, but nothing inside him felt as casual as the gesture should have conveyed. If she stayed out there in the woods, he wouldn’t be so tempted to look her up. Or, at least it wouldn’t be so convenient. But the thought of her having her three hours away didn’t offer the relief it should have. “So,” he said, “maybe you don’t go back.”

“I’m just not sure I want to stay here. I
like
the city. I just don’t like being known everywhere as the Runaway Bride.”

“Have you put an explanation out there?”

“I don’t need to justify myself or my actions, although that stupid blogger put it all out there.”

“I didn’t mean you needed to justify everything. Just that if you take the mystery out of it, maybe told your story your way, people will lose interest.”

She shot him a look that probably melted snow outside his window. “And where’s the mystery in being Hot HVAC Guy? Because last I heard, you were still making the rounds.”

“It’s dying down,” he said. “A little.”

“See?” She held out her hand, almost slinging coffee on him. Or at least that’s what he imagined, probably due to a hot chocolate flashback. “And can you imagine what would happen if we were ever connected? Even platonically, that would be a nightmare.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that.” At least he hoped she wouldn’t, but the kid with the horse knew, and if this small town was like most, soon everyone would, and she’d hate that. Which pissed him off, and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he really liked her, and she didn’t want to be seen with him.

His tone had been unintentionally harsh.

Hers softened. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Like what? There’s not much room for interpretation there.” Dammit. He was mad that he was mad. He wasn’t some asshole with double standards. He was just…confused. And considering how readily he functioned to make sure things stayed uncomplicated, confusion could go fuck itself.

“When will your truck be ready?” she asked. It should have been a welcome change of subject, but it didn’t leave him thinking about her any less.

“They couldn’t tell me anything yet. I’m not even sure what they’re doing other than getting the dents out. I’m going to have to get one of my brothers to pick me up.” He paused. “I can just have him sit in the driveway, as far from all trees as possible, and blow the horn. You know, so we’re not connected, platonically or otherwise.”

Blue eyes flashed irritation. “Could you
not
be a jerk?”

“Because that was a real dick move, taking you skiing and on a sleigh ride and buying ornaments and
not losing my shit
when you wrecked my truck.”

Silence followed his outburst. Then, “You bought ornaments?”

He forcibly loosened his grip on the wheel, then had to tense all over again when the slush pulled at the tires. “Yeah, I bought them. I bought all they had. They’re not vintage, but it was the best I could do.”

She didn’t say another damned word. Not then, and not the rest of the way back to the lodge. Maybe she was mad the stupid ornaments didn’t date back to the fifties or whatever era those old ones had come from, but he’d tried. A
thank you
would have been fantastic.

When he parked at the lodge, he tossed the keys on the middle of the seat and grabbed the groceries. He left the ornaments in the truck and Claire out there with them, not that he was stranding her. She could walk. Unless she’d gotten hurt when the sleigh tipped, but she hadn’t been limping when she got the coffee.

Once inside, he realized the power was out again.

“Hey, Stanley,” he said when he found the raccoon in the kitchen. He kept a relatively wide path around him, but the animal didn’t make his usual racket, so Liam didn’t bother too much with boundaries. He wished the damned window didn’t have to be open all the time, but the latch was broken, and Claire didn’t seem too concerned, so he let it go. Wasn’t his problem. Irritated despite it, he dropped a banana at Stanley’s feet. “Here you go, buddy.”

Putting groceries away in a kitchen that had to be the size of his entire apartment in the city while a raccoon sat quietly observant, peeling and eating a banana, went right up there as some of the weirdest shit ever, but every moment since he’d arrived could belong on that list. Tomorrow he’d hit the basement and check out the furnace. He had the equipment now that he needed to test it. By the day after, he’d be ready to go back to the city.

Back where things were normal.

Feeling domesticated, he finished putting everything away, slid the pocket door closed to keep Stanley in check, and headed back to the front to finish unloading the truck.

But Claire had already done that.

She was standing in the front room surrounded by boxes and…crying?

“What’s wrong?” He really should have grabbed a beer. It wasn’t like they hadn’t stayed cold on the forty-one degree, thirty-two-minute ride back up the mountain. He wasn’t concerned by how much those ornaments had cost, but he sure hadn’t paid the shopkeeper’s rent for the month just to make her cry.

But when she looked at him, his irritation faded. She had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Those eyes were killer, but more than that, it was how gorgeous she was when she wasn’t wearing all that gunk for the camera. Anyone could be made presentable with a painted on face. She blew him away for who she
really
was, and he wished like hell he knew a way to say that that wouldn’t come across as an insult.

“I don’t trust myself to tell you what I’m feeling,” she said.

More than what she’d laid out for him in the truck? Yeah, that was better left unexamined. “You’re not going after the chainsaw, are you?”

He really didn’t want to know, because she was coming at him with purpose. She put her fingertips on his chest and pushed him backward until he landed on the sofa. She must have uncovered and cleaned it, because the drop cloth was gone, and the leather shone. What she apparently didn’t know, however, was that he’d stolen the fluffy stuff from inside one of the cushions for the fire, so when he hit, he went down all the way. Hard.

She laughed—which was the best possible reaction to his pilfering of her sofa innards—and crawled on top of him, straddled him on her knees, and kissed him. And she meant business. Her hands drove through his hair, holding him, keeping him close, as if she needed to hold on to keep him there.

Not fucking likely.

He didn’t waste any time sliding his hands under her shirt, lifting the fabric until she finally took the hint and let him drag it over her head. Then she turned her full attention back to his mouth, her sweet little tongue tangled with his. It was a fucking injustice that all her bare skin was wasted on his shirt, so he lost that, too, then dove right back in, earlier trepidation forgotten.

The fire hadn’t been touched in the short time since they’d returned, and the embers did little to heat the place. The cavernous room was cold enough to elicit chills from her that he doubted had anything to do with his kisses, but he resisted the urge to close his mouth on her tightly beaded breasts. Instead, he explored with his hands. She arched against him, whimpering against his lips when he skated his palms along her sides, making her shudder. Loving the way she squirmed against him, he pinched her nipples, both of them, both through her bra, both hard. She gasped and slammed against him, dislodging his grip.

Screw that.

As much as he liked her on top of him, he was done waiting. All the damned thinking he’d done, trying to figure this thing out, trying just as hard to shove it aside because in two days it wouldn’t be a thing anymore, flew like the force of an avalanche hit it. Thinking was overrated.

Having good girl Claire Stevens come onto him was more of a turn on than it should have been, all things considered, but he was tired of considerations. She wanted him, and he wanted her, and that was enough.