3. Lucy

Chapter 3

Lucy

I shivered as the cold went straight down the neck of Spencer’s coat, chilling me to the bone. The scarf had slid out of place, but my hands were just too cold to fix it. It was big, the neckline gaped, and my hoodie was insufficient to keep the icy draft out.

One foot in front of the other. I could do this.

If— when —I got home, I would have a good talking to with myself. Maybe I’d never leave the house again unless it was the middle of summer. I mean, as far as I knew, Oregon had never had a surprise summer snowstorm.

The spiky tops of the evergreens stood tall like dark sentries against the night sky, and as it sometimes does here, the hail only lasted a minute. The snow, however, had decided to return to the party and was now falling in fat blobs, pelting us in the head as we trudged through the crispy, ice-covered mud.

I could tell there was a road here, but it was a mess—slippery in spots and covered with fallen branches and wet leaves.

The light from Spencer’s flashlight was almost worse than being in the pitch dark. It created shadows that my overactive imagination ran wild with.

I was scared out of my mind.

I gripped Spencer’s hand hard. I didn’t want him to worry, so I kept my thoughts to myself. The idea of getting separated terrified me, so I held on tight.

The reassuring grip of his hand comforted me, but I was starting to doubt my ability to make it to his cabin without my feet freezing and falling off. My shoes were soaked and caked with mud, and the treads were packed with ice.

Like, I’d always wanted to hold his hand, but not like this. I couldn’t even get a proper thrill out of it because I now knew what it felt like to be an ice cube, and I didn’t like it one bit.

“Spencer,” I called and tugged on his hand. I couldn’t make it. I couldn’t feel my feet anymore.

He stopped and turned. After one look at me, he raised his eyebrows. I nodded, and without a word, he picked me up and slung me over his shoulder.

I started making a quick mental list of every part of my body he was touching so I could think about it later, like when I was alone in a bubble bath at home or whatever. But I stopped when I realized it was practically all of them, since I was plastered across his shoulder with my line of sight trained straight on his gorgeous ass.

His arm was banded around the back of my thighs right below my booty, and my breasts were flattened against his upper back as I held on to his waist and tried not to stare too hard at his spectacular butt as he walked.

This was a perilous, dangerous, freezing-cold situation, but my inner perv had come out anyway. My hair hung in my face, along with the scarf. Thankfully, it was still loosely wrapped because it was nice, and I’d hate for it to end up on the ground, especially since I had been trying to figure out a way to steal it to keep as a memento whenever we got to safety.

Wow, he was strong. It was almost effortless for him to lift me. His muscles flexed against my torso as he walked. And amazingly, he was warm, while I shook like a leaf inside his coat with my teeth chattering and nose running. I didn’t even have it in me to care what I looked like. All I wanted was to be warm again.

“Thank you!” I shouted against his back.

I felt him nod against my waist. God, the side of my butt was right against his head and not how I used to picture it. Damn, back in high school, I used to dream of being close to him—being in his arms, sitting on his lap, and being pressed up against him. But it was never quite like this.

I quit watching his ass and switched to watching his sensible winter boots trudging across the snow-covered ground while silently vowing to repay him somehow.

Good lord, I owed him so much more than just a few freaking tacos.

“We’re almost there,” he yelled and shifted me higher. “I see it now.”

“Thank god,” I mumbled, grabbing onto his belt loops to keep myself steady.

His arm tightened around the back of my thighs as he picked up his pace, and shamefully, I shivered from more than the cold as his big hand gripped the side of my leg below my hip to keep me steady.

There was no doubt in my mind that this relentless, lingering crush I still had on him would humiliate me by the time this was over. I was going to die from exposure or embarrassment. Which one would feel worse as it happened, I did not yet know.

I knew I couldn’t keep my feelings hidden for however long we were stuck together out here. My face was like an open book on a good day. Add the fact that I was freezing my ass off in wet clothes and scared out of my mind to the vast array of emotions I was currently experiencing, and he’d know my entire life story by the time we were able to go home. I mean, if we didn’t freeze to death in all this damn freaking snow, that was.

“We’re here.” The words were muffled against my body, but I heard them.

Carefully, he set me down. I tried not to pass out as I slid down the front of his hard body, my nipples hardening as they dragged down his chest.

Holy crap, this was amazing. Could a person be hot and freeze their ass off at the same time? Someone should come out and study that phenomenon, I would be the perfect test subject because I know my cheeks were in flames right now.

He cleared his throat. “So, we’re here,” he said in a deep rumble.

I looked up, disoriented, as I took in the charming, covered porch of the cutest log cabin I’d ever seen.

It was A-frame and built with rough-hewn logs. Pine and fir trees surrounded it, their branches heavy with snow and sparkling in the beam of Spencer’s flashlight. Two heavy wooden rocking chairs sat on one end of the porch with a sturdy table between them. Sitting out here on a nice day would be so peaceful, maybe with a cup of coffee and a good book.

I turned to see the moonlight breaking through the canopy of trees, bathing everything in a silvery glow. I was freezing and all out of sorts, like I was waking up from a dream.

“Wow,” I muttered. “This place is adorable. Like a fairytale cabin. Are there three bears inside? Please tell me there’s porridge. I’m starving, and I think the tacos are smashed.”

His smiling eyes met mine. “God, I hope not. But one time, when we were kids, Charlotte and I discovered a bunch of bats up in the loft. That was not fun. Let’s get inside.” He pulled his keys from his front pocket and unlocked the door.

I shivered, suddenly realizing precisely how cold I was as I stepped inside. “I’m a Lucy cube. I think I’m frozen solid.” My bones ached from the cold.

“No worries. This place has a huge fireplace. We’re going to be fine. There are also forks, plates, and everything else we’ll need for the tacos. No worries.”

I shut the door behind me, frowning in disappointment when he flicked the light switch, but nothing happened. “Damn, the power is out. What are we going to do?”

He flicked on a lantern that was on a hook by the door. “Always be prepared. That’s what my dad always says. And don’t worry, there are plenty of batteries.”

“I love it here already. Thank god we made it.” I was so grateful to be here that I was ready to sink down to my knees and kiss the floor.

“My hands are like ice.” He blew on them as his eyes drifted around the room, taking stock of what was here.

“Let me help.” I attempted to wrap my hands around his, but they were huge.

“Thanks.”

I let him go, taking a step back to look around.

The bottom level was a wide-open space. A kitchen was straight ahead on the far side of the cabin, a staircase to the right, and a fireplace to the left. Two large windows flanked the front door, and a comfy-looking couch sat on one side of the massive stone fireplace, with two chairs on the other. The walls and floors were, of course, wooden. Nothing but pine and whatever else kind of wood as far as the eye could see. It was adorable.

“Take off your jacket and try to get comfortable. I’ll build a fire, and then we can make a plan.” He was already by the fireplace, stacking wood on the open grate. He was competent, in charge, and taking care of me like no man had ever done before, not even my father. It was sexy as hell.

“Let me know what I can do to help.”

“Listen, before you do anything else, call or text your mom or change your voicemail to say you’re with me and where we are if you don’t have a signal. She’ll worry about you. Our phones might die while we’re up here if the power doesn’t come back on.”

“Oh god. I’ll never live any of her antics down, will I?”

“I mean—she loves you. That’s a good thing.” He bustled around the space, locating more battery-powered lanterns and flameless candles and turning them on one by one. It felt good to be out of the dark.

“Yeah, but being the parent volunteer—slash—chaperone—slash—room parent for every single school year of my life was— gah!— it was just too much. She is the quintessential helicopter mother.”

“I just?—”

“Oh god. I’m being insensitive. I’m so sorry.” Spencer’s mom passed away when we were in first grade. My heart broke for the little boy I used to know. I felt like an insensitive idiot for accidentally bringing it up.

“No apologies. That wasn’t what I was getting at. You’re pale, and your nose is red. We need to warm you up.”

“Maybe we need to get out of these wet clothes.” I joked to cover the fact that I was about to lose it. I fumbled with my backpack purse as I dug for my phone to change my message as he suggested.

He let out a chuckle. “We really should. There’s a dresser in the alcove over there near the stairs. It’s full of clothes. They might smell like stale mothballs and old dryer sheets, but they’ll be clean. Help yourself to whatever looks warm.”

I watched, entranced, as he kicked off his boots and tossed his flannel shirt, followed by a thermal henley, toward the coat stand in the corner. He missed, and they landed with a wet splat on the floor.

I shrugged off his jacket and my wet hoodie and hung them up, toeing off my Converse, then bending to peel off my wet socks. “I really should rethink my cold-weather attire. I need to do better.” My teeth chattered as if to emphasize my point as I hurried to grab his clothes and hang them up for him.

I spun to see him standing there in nothing but a soaking wet, skin-tight, and see-through white T-shirt and a pair of jeans that clung to every inch of his muscular thighs and—other parts. My eyes bugged out as I took him in.

“Thanks for hanging that up. And hey, don’t beat yourself up. No one expected this.” He gestured to the window where we could see snow dumping like crazy. We were lucky we got to the cabin when we did, or we would have been in real trouble. “Once the fire gets going, you’ll feel so much better. Then we can figure everything out, okay?"

“Sounds good. I can’t thank you enough, Spencer.”

“We got this. We will be fine. I promise you.”

“Okay.” He was so sure we would be fine that I had no choice but to believe him.

His hands reached the hem of his shirt and lifted it. I gasped when it flew into the corner before he turned to the fireplace and knelt to shove some kindling between the logs on the metal rack. “You don’t have to pick up after me. I’ll get it when I’m done.”

“Holy crap,” I mumbled under my breath because so many muscles had entered my field of vision, and I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing.

He was huge. His back was like a broad, muscular wall. It took all I had not to stare at him. I mean, I was quite literally freezing my ass off and had to pause to take in the view before I went in search of dry clothes and possibly a towel.

Wow— like serious wow.

I shook my head and turned toward the dresser, blindly making my way across the room. I dared not turn back to look at him again because I was in real danger of a swoon.

He’d rescued me from my car, carried me through the snow, and was now unwittingly putting on a show that had come straight out of one of my better high-school fantasies.

Stuck in the snow with Spencer Cassidy?

Yes, please. Don’t mind if I do.

I set my purse and cell on the dresser and took out the taco bag, frowning when I saw they were smushed. Damn.

“Good news! I located the matches.” Excitedly, he strode across the room to join me at the dresser. “We have a fire. Hopefully, the power will come back on tomorrow. If not, we have more firewood in a shed behind the cabin. We’re good for tonight. It’s too dark to grab more right now.”

“Oh yeah. Do not go out there. Being alone in a cabin in the woods is not my idea of a good time.”

“And being outside in a dark snowstorm is not mine. We’ll be okay, I promise, Lucy. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He held his hand out.

I took it with a smile, letting the heat of his big, warm palm infuse me with some of his strength. A tingle shot through me as his thumb stroked the back of my hand in a soothing motion.

“I won’t let anything happen to you either, Spencer. Team Snowbound, that’s us.”

His gaze seared me with intent and promise. “I like it. Team Snowbound.”

My stomach growled. “Smashed tacos and no porridge. What are we going to do? At least there are no bears. Or bats, oh my god.”

“I’ll grab what we need from the kitchen.” He took the bag from the dresser. “You’re not going to starve on my watch.

“All I can think of now is burying myself under one million blankets. I’m so cold.”

“About that.” Eyes filled with concern met mine. “We used to have bunk beds in the loft, but all that’s up there now is the air mattress I used last time I was here, and it has a hole in it. We never stay here all together anymore, so my dad got rid of them. He’s going to buy a bed for up there but hasn’t gotten around to it. I thought we could grab all the blankets and pillows and pull the sofa bed out.”

He reached out, almost touching my face with the back of his hand, but he pulled away before making contact. “I don’t like how pale you are. It looks like your bones are about to shiver right out of your body. You don’t look so good, Lucy. I’m worried about you.”

“I don’t feel that good. And I agree. I’m going to steal every bit of body heat that comes out of you, Spencer. You’re about to have a Lucy-shaped barnacle attached to you all night. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s totally okay. You’re going to be fine.” He let out a relieved sigh. “You can trust me. I swear?—”

I put a hand on his arm, needing the contact. “I know I can, and I do, and I appreciate you saying it again.”

He reached around me and grabbed a pair of pink and black striped thermal pajamas from the open top drawer. “These are Charlotte’s. They should fit you.”

“Thanks.” I took them and watched as he dug out a T-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants for himself.

What was hotter? Skin-tight wet jeans or gray sweats? Maybe I was the one not to be trusted tonight.

“Go into the bathroom and get changed. I’ll take care of everything out here. There should be towels to dry your hair, new toothbrushes in the drawer, whatever you need. But I’m not sure about hot water.” He pointed to a door next to the stairs that led up to the loft space. “Wait a second, here you go, take this.” He gave me his lantern. “There should also be one on a hook by the door.”

I took it in my trembling hand. “Okay. Thanks.”

I set the lantern from Spencer on the counter and switched on the one on. My face in the mirror spooked me. I looked terrible. I was pale, with dark circles beneath my eyes. I wasn’t wearing much makeup since my date was a last-minute thing, and I hadn’t had time to go all out, so at least I didn’t have huge streaks of mascara and eyeliner to deal with. I wiped what remained with the hem of my shirt and cringed at my reflection. It’s true, I was tired, but this was ridiculous. I turned on the tap, crossing my fingers that there would be hot water, but there was none to be had.

I sat on the toilet seat to peel off my jeans, staring longingly at the massive old-fashioned cast-iron tub. I would do anything for a steaming hot bath right now, and this one was just like my mother’s. It was longer than I was, so I could fit head to toe if I wanted to.

Hurriedly, I stripped off the rest of my wet clothes and hung them over the shower curtain rod to dry. Looking around, I found a towel on a hook by the shower. It smelled clean, like fabric softener and fresh air. The pajamas smelled good, too. He must have been joking about the mothballs, thank goodness. I dried my damp body, slipped into his sister Charlotte’s PJs, and then wrapped my hair in the towel.

When I returned to the main living space, I found him with an armful of blankets. He had pulled out the couch bed and lined the top and sides with pillows, creating a cozy nest in front of the fireplace. My heart melted, even though my body was still as cold as ice. He quickly added the last few blankets to the top and waved me over.

“Come on. Let’s get you warm.”

“That looks so cozy.” I stepped toward him, then hesitated, nervously twisting the hem of my pajama top between my trembling fingers.

I, Lucy Darlington, was effectively living out my lifelong dream, and I could hardly believe it.

Snowed in inside of a romantic rustic cabin, about to be nestled down in a cozy blanket fort beside a roaring fireplace…

With Spencer freaking Cassidy.