CHAPTER EIGHT

HOPE

" Can a girl not have one second to inwardly squeal over her good fortune? "

A bang on the door wakes me up. Morning light paints the floor in warm colors as I blink away the sleepy haze over my eyes and roll over. Samuel's chest rises rhythmically beneath my hand, and I take a moment to enjoy the view.

Dark hair covers his pectoral muscles, narrowing to the happy trail that leads to his cock resting against his thigh. His beard is a little fuller like he hasn't had time to trim it since our little snowed-in ‘sexcation'.

Another knock on the door.

Ugh! Can a girl not have one second to inwardly squeal over her good fortune?

At first, I figured the noise came from a broken tree branch or something, but the patterned knock quickly dispelled that notion.

Samuel growls as he stretches, the move gently lifting me with the long inhale, before he stomps over to open the door.

A gust of icy snowflakes flies inside, and like that first breath out of a steaming shower, my lungs take a full breath—no longer stifled by the heat of being surrounded by Samuel.

"Braden! What are you doing here?" My fingers scramble to gather the woolen blanket around my waist, so it hides my naked chest from view.

"Carrie was worried when you never returned home and never answered any of her calls. Last night was hell, but the weather let up enough this morning that I was able to drive the snowmobile into town to see if you hunkered down at the B&B, but I found your car in a ditch instead," he explains, eyeing Samuel suspiciously. "Once I dug a hole deep enough to find it empty, I prayed you might be here rather than lost in the woods. Carrie will be happy to know you're safe, so we should get going."

"She's not going anywhere." Samuel shuts the door behind Braden and moves to stand in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest. He managed to throw on a pair of sweatpants to answer the door, but otherwise, he's barefoot and bare-chested—a sight I'd love to explore more—but it looks like my snowed-in fantasy turned reality is over.

Especially since Braden and Samuel are glaring at each other like a couple of pissed-off bulls ready to gore the other.

A tense stand-off is exactly what I wanted the morning after hours of cuddling, chatting, and making love with Samuel.

Damn Braden.

And damn the fickle weather for miraculously clearing enough for him to find me.