8. Makeshift Pillow Talk

"This is really weird." Hailey's small shoulder blades moved with her whispered words.

Weird didn't begin to describe the otherworldly situation. Mere hours before, Noah had been wrangling with a handful of problems that had seemed monumental. Hell, they had been monumental. Now he was trapped in a blizzard, curled around a woman he hadn't known existed before today.

When he wasn't wedged in with her, he was wrapping up a pitiful mutt who didn't know enough to stay covered, running his truck while watching its gas gauge needle drop, or he was outside shoveling an endless pile of snow and clearing the truck's tailpipe.

"It's weird, right?" she prodded.

Noah mumbled, "Yeah, a little surreal. But try to relax." Were those words for her or him? No idea. And they were easy to say, but not easy to do.

While his "guest" was probably anxious about spending the night in freezing temperatures with a complete stranger, he was focused on not noticing how good her flowery shampoo smelled or how perfect her warm weight felt nestled against him. How he could be so distracted in the middle of a snowstorm that might kill them both eluded him.

He was also struggling to keep his crotch from touching her ass without falling off the narrow seat. His dick, with the impulse control of an eleven-year-old, was clueless about their current predicament. It wanted what it wanted. And while he liked to believe he could wrestle it into submission, sometimes he lost the match and was left with regret and consequences. Hooking up with Sandy was a glaring example of what happened when the head on his shoulders gave in to the head in his pants.

Noah's father often said Noah lacked self-correction skills because he was incapable of taking a hard look at himself. When it came to business and finance, that statement wasn't true anymore. A good chunk of his downtime was spent analyzing his mistakes, beating himself up for some respectable period, and searching out solutions.

But his personal life? The self-assessment and makeover in that area were seriously lagging, though he'd taken a few stabs at it lately. He'd had little choice. Ursula kept showingup with one lame excuse after another, under the pretext of Silver Summit business. It was the same sort of dance she always performed when she was trying to weasel back into his life. This time, though, he saw it for what it was, taking a closer look at the dynamic in their decades-old relationship. Studying it was one thing, but coming up with answers? He had yet to reach an epiphany, except that sleeping with Sandy was somehow tied to Ursula. And that was as far as his self-insight went.

Hailey turned to look at him, interrupting his runaway freight train of thoughts. Her soft hair tickled his nose. "Do you think we're in danger of being mauled by bears?"

He blinked, trying to process her question while simultaneously pulling in the sweet honeysuckle scent scrambling his brain. "Bears aren't out foraging right now. They're as hunkered down as we are."

She turned away, and a few strands stuck to his beard. He brushed them away, enjoying their silky feel a little too much. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with him? Yet something about Hailey made him feel undeniably good lying next to her, in counterbalance to the negativity spiraling inside him. Which made absolutely no sense. He wasn't even attracted to her. Had to be the danger pressing in around them, right? Survival instinct in full throttle, encouraging him to create little Noahs to carry on the bloodline or some primeval shit like that. He needed a deflection.

"Where were you coming from when you spotted Rover?"

"From Durango. I had Friday afternoon off, so I spent the night so I could visit Mesa Verde before tourist season. The weather was nice then."

"Yeah, the warm before the storm."

"Except they never predicted an epic storm." Her huff held a cute indignation.

"They never do. They panic over what turns out to be a dusting and miss the big one. Must be tough to be them, though."

"I guess." She sighed. "You may be grouchy, but you're also kinda sweet when you say things like that."

Huh? Earlier, he was grumpy. Now she was accusing him of being grouchy. He couldn't decide which surprised him more: the grouchy part or the sweet. He didn't think of himself as either.

"Are you laughing back there?" Her voice held a modicum of incredulity. "Was what I said that funny?"

"A little. Just because I gave the weather folks a pass … People who know me mostly say I'm even-keeled but that I don't put up with any bullshit." Usually. "I guess that could make me seem like a grump sometimes, but sweet? That's a stretch. I doubt anyone but my mom would use that word to describe me." Though he had to admit hearing Hailey say so caused something warm to percolate inside him. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Gee, thanks," she chuckled.

"No, seriously," he spouted. "You obviously have compassion. I mean, look at what you risked for Rover."

"Yeah, but look at the mess I put us in."

"Eh, mistakes happen." I should know.

She was a little skittish, which he'd give her, but overall she seemed straightforward and levelheaded—and that went a long way in making this ordeal go easier. Had he been stuck with a hysterical woman—or man—this stressful night … Well, he didn't want to waste brain cells on how much worse it could have been because it was pretty damn bad as it was. He suddenly missed his brick loft with its king-sized bed.

Long beats of silence passed. He had thirty more minutes before he could unfold himself from his origami pose and fire up the truck.

She surprised him when she said, "I have a question."

"Go."

"Why did you call Charlie the golden retriever of the family?"

"Well, he's got way too much energy, he's annoyingly happy, and women can't stop petting him."

She let out a laugh-snort. "So what does that make you? As a dog breed, I mean."

"Something cool. An Irish wolfhound or a Siberian husky."

"Not a Great Pyrenees?"

"No, that'd be Reece," Noah snickered.

"Do you have any dogs?"

"No. You?" he tossed back.

"No. We weren't allowed to have pets as kids."

"Makes sense if your dad spent a lot of time on a circuit."

"No, it was more than that."

The sad note in her voice tugged at something in his chest, and his bartender persona kicked into gear with an open-ended question. "I've never known a competitive surfer. What was that like?"

"Not as fabulous as everyone thinks. It looks like fun and games on the surface, but the dark side isn't pretty."

There was a lot to unpack in her statement, a lot he wanted to ask her about, and his attention was wholly captivated. He sensed a painful past he didn't want to poke, so he waited.

When she next spoke, the smallness of her voice made his breath catch. "My dad never made it to the elite class, but he had an unquenchable passion for the sport—and the lifestyle—so we moved around a lot while he chased that passion. We were nomads, blowing in the wind, riding the waves, and we were always broke. What little he earned paid for gear or parties or vices. Pop's was liquor, and Mom's was drugs. To her credit, she worked different grocery store jobs, though they didn't pay much. Mostly she did it to get the unsold food for free. We had a very eclectic diet." A mirthless laugh escaped her. "Sorry. TMI."

"No, it's fascinating. Really. Most of the people I know grew up in my small town and never left, so we all know the same stories. Keep going."

As she continued the telling of a turbulent childhood, Noah was struck by the lack of emotion in her voice. "My father spent his entire life trying to make it big, but he never got there. He always had a temper, but he became angrier, more bitter, and he started drinking more and more.

"Meanwhile, Mom tried to clean up her act and be both parents to us, but the stress overwhelmed her. The secondhand groceries, thrift store shopping, and getting tossed out of apartments because we couldn't pay the rent took their toll. So did my father's infidelities. In hindsight, I think being with my dad destroyed her … essence, for lack of a better term. She wasn't a strong person to begin with, and being with him sucked up what little spirit she had.

"They weren't married, and when they split, my sister and I went with our mother. I don't know if he wanted custody or visitation—she never said, and we didn't see him during those months—but she died shortly after leaving him from a drug overdose. Kaylee and I ended up right back on the beach with Pop, living the same drifter's life. Without Mom there to mask how bad things were, it became obvious Pop's body was broken and his reputation as an asshole preceded him, making it impossible for him to compete. And then he got this brainwave." She huffed out a derisive snort, and Noah braced himself for what came next.

"My sister and I had always surfed. It's what you did if you were in Pop's life, like other families watch Disney movies together. Kaylee didn't like it, though. She lacked coordination and hated always being in salt water. On the other hand, I was good, so Pop zeroed in on me and pushed me hard. He was relentless. It got so bad that Kaylee tried to intervene. That worked for a while, probably because I had missed so much school with all the practices and competitions, and she started raising a stink with the state."

"You must have been good."

"Yeah. Real good." Her tone held neither hubris nor apology. "I think there are still YouTube videos floating around out there of some of my wins. And honestly, I loved it. When I was out there, it was just the wild waves and me, and I pushed my body to beat them. I competed against the surf, not other surfers. But I didn't want Pop to know that. I guess I was afraid I'd give him one more tool to control me with."

"So what happened?"

"Kaylee was my rock, but she's six years older than I am. She couldn't wait to get away, but she stuck around because of me. When she finally left, I was devastated. I think my dad noticed she was gone just long enough to pull me out of school again. After that, he acted as though she didn't exist. That left me with only him, his string of girlfriends, and surfing, so I poured myself into the sport, hoping to get enough attention to go pro and get away. It worked—for a while. I made a little money, got some friends, put down a few shallow roots. For once, I felt like I had solid ground under my feet instead of shifting sand. But I was underage, and one of Pop's girlfriends—who didn't like me much—tipped off the school. They didn't care on the circuit, but the schools did care. So Pop kept moving us around. When I complained, he hammered home how much he was sacrificing for my benefit. He claimed it was my dream, but it was really his. He lived vicariously through me. My success was his.

"When I was eighteen, Kaylee begged me to move in with her. But I wanted to see if I could compete on my own, and there's no surfing in Denver. I needed to get far away from Pop, though, so I moved in with some friends in Cocoa Beach."

"Florida? That's about as far away as you can get."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too. But then the dominoes started to fall. I discovered Pop's passion had fueled me. That is, my anger at what he put us through had gone a long way in stoking my competitive fire. Without him there to piss me off, I couldn't stay sharp. I lost interest in competing. It's kinda strange. While he wasn't around physically, he still had a hold over me, if that makes sense." She paused, hesitating. "Sorry. I'm sure you're sick of hearing me babble."

Not even close. "Nope. Still fascinated here." And it wasn't only her story holding him rapt. The sound of her voice, warm and silky and full, soothed his frayed nerves. He nudged her thigh with his knee. "Keep going."

She blew out a breath, as if bracing herself. "One thing led to another, and I started partying hard, falling into the same bad habits as my parents. One morning I woke up in bed between one of my roommates and his buddy. We were all stark naked, and I had no clue how we got that way or what happened after we got that way. To this day, I don't know, nor do I want to.

"That, literally, was my wake-up call. I moved in with my sedate schoolteacher sister and got my GED in Denver. With her help, I earned a partial scholarship, got my degree, and landed a safe government job. I haven't looked back."

Jesus! Okay, so maybe this girl was responsible for their dilemma, but she had to be badass to survive her childhood with an intact sense of purpose and a good heart. Noah and his brothers had grown up as Fall River mining royalty, descended from a long line of great-grandparents before them, spawned by benevolent parents who loved them unconditionally. Despite his dad's criticisms, Noah was a lucky son of a bitch. He had been born into a life of opportunity. How different his upbringing was from Hailey's … and so many others whose tragic stories he heard on a nightly basis behind the bar.

"You still with me, or did I bore you to death?" she whispered.

Recovering himself, Noah made his mouth move. "I'm here. Just processing. Do you miss it?"

"Not really. I took up snowboarding, though, which shares some similarities, so I get my fix that way."

"Do you ever talk to your dad?"

She shook her head, and the motion released more of the flowery scent that was becoming familiar. When she spoke, the wistfulness in her voice gave him a peek through the tear in her soul. "Pop drank himself to death."

Moments ticked by as he waited for her to say more. When she didn't, he murmured, "You don't blame yourself, do you? I mean, I think it's incredible you pulled yourself through like you did."

"I try not to. The irony is that his love of such a beautiful sport was toxic. In trying to share it, he pushed everyone away. It killed my mom and destroyed any inclination my sister or I ever had for it." A strangled laugh escaped. "I don't even like beach vacations." She cleared her throat and, in a quaver, added, "You probably already know this, but you're a good listener. I've never shared my dark, ugly past with anyone before."

Not even with your naked roommate?danced on the tip of his tongue, but he managed to swallow the crude attempt at humor.

Instead, he contemplated the skeletons she had presented him. Plenty of people had poured out their secrets to him over the years, but for some mysterious reason, her trust lit something in his gut. A pull to reassure her overtook him, and he gave in to it. "I'll keep your secrets safe. And you're not alone. Every family has them." As soon as the words came out, it occurred to him what a farce they were. They were sincere as hell, but here was the family fuck-up handing out sage-sounding reassurances. Thank God his father wasn't there to call him out.

And then another thought struck: his father had been there, was there, doing what he thought best for Noah and his brothers, even when Noah didn't like what he had to say. Had to be tough as a parent, but his father had never backed down from doling out life's lessons.

"I wish I could keep him. Someday," she murmured. "I hope he makes it."

Her quiet question yanked him back to the present. "Who?"

"Rover."

"Me too." He resisted the urge to glide his hand to her hip and give her a reassuring squeeze.

"What do you suppose happened to him?"

"He could've jumped from a vehicle or wandered away from home and got lost. If he's chipped, we can track down his family." Did I just say "we"? Yeah, he had. Because he found himself invested. Must have been their crazy situation messing with him.

"Growing up in the same small town all your life sounds nice," she sighed. "Uncomplicated."

"It was all right. Small towns have their own issues, like people constantly sticking their noses in your business." It sounded so trivial compared to Hailey's upbringing. "Tell me about your ‘someday.' What does it look like?" He asked not only to occupy her mind with something besides the dog, the cold, and the awkwardness, but he genuinely wanted to know.

This time her voice held a brightness to it. "I'll own a bookstore and have a dog who greets customers. A cat too."

"A bookstore?" Wasn't that a dying business?

"I know it's a just a castle in the air," she continued as if she had heard his unspoken question, "but I've always loved books. They were my lifeline growing up, someplace where I could escape and pretend my world was normal. I want to provide a place where others can escape too, especially kids." Her shoulders vibrated with a laugh. "I guess I'm gonna have to win Powerball, though, so I can afford to get the right place, fill it with books, and support myself on the income it brings in."

"Know anything about running a business?"

"No. So I guess I'll have to go back to school and get a business degree. Like I said, castle in the air." Her back eased on an exhale.

The quiet sharpened the sound of their breathing, the thumping of his heart against her back. She melted against him and quickly stiffened again, as though she hadn't meant to let herself go.

He checked his phone. No texts, no calls, and ten more minutes till it was time to turn on the truck. The dog's silence made Noah reach for him, but the stretch was too much.

Hailey tugged on the covers that slid out of place. "What are you doing back there?"

"I'm going to check on the dog." He slithered out of the warm nest, making sure to tuck the covers beneath Hailey, and wriggled into the front seat, where he stroked the dog's side through the blanket, reassured by the animal's warmth and its acknowledging snuffle.

"He's okay," he called back to her.

"Thank you. See? Sweet," she called back.

Yeah, and so are you.

He ran the engine, adjusting the vents so they blew on Rover and into the backseat before shutting it down, crawling back under the covers, and resettling himself against Hailey's warm back.

"Sorry about letting in the cold," he apologized.

"It's fine. Now that you're here, I'm already warming up again."

"If I crowd you too much, you let me know."

"And what will you do?" she laughed. "We only have so much real estate to work with here." With that, her body softened against him.

She trusted him.

A kernel of warmth that had nothing to do with their combined body heat unfurled in his gut and spread to his chest.

A loud rapping noise jerked Noah awake, and he fell onto the floorboards with a whump!

"Ow! Fuck!"

Legs tangling in the blankets, he pulled them with him and off of Hailey, who wrenched them back with a protesting moan.

Weak daylight filtered into the cab, the candles were burned out, and a sheet of frost layered the windows with ice. They'd apparently fallen asleep.

The driver's door opened, letting in a blast of arctic air and a flurry of flakes.

"What the hell?" Noah yelled, and his breath crystallized before him.

"Reece, he's here!" Charlie shouted.

"And ornerier than ever, it sounds like," Reece's voice floated back.

Noah had never been happier to hear his brothers' voices. He scrambled to his knees and wrapped his hand around Hailey's arm. He could barely feel his fingers. "Hailey, the cavalry's here."

When she didn't respond, he shook her. "C'mon, surfer girl. Time to wake up and hit the beach. Let's go." He snatched his coat and pulled it on before draping hers over her back.

"Go away," she croaked. Her parka slid to the floor.

"Wow, good morning to you too." He grinned, relieved she was coherent, and tucked the coat around her when she rolled over to face him.

Charlie peered over the seat, his eyes traveling from Noah to Rover to Hailey, coming back to rest on Noah. "Looking kinda cozy back there."

"Would you close the fucking door? You're letting in all the cold air."

Charlie clambered into the driver's seat and shut the door. "That's a good one, Noah. You do realize it's just as cold in here as it is out there." He started up the motor. "Let's get some heat going."

Noah didn't argue.

Charlie raised a hand to Hailey. "Hi. I'm Charlie. You must be Hailey Bailey. Hey, that's kinda cute." He pointed to Rover. "And this, obviously, is your dog."

Hailey slowly pulled herself upright and clamped her arms tightly around herself. Noah pried them off her and helped stuff them into her coat sleeves. Her beanie had gone missing, and her hair slid forward, covering one eye and a cheek. She gave Charlie a feeble smile. "So nice to meet you."

Reece opened the driver's door. "You guys okay to move?"

Noah nodded.

"Good. I've got warm blankets in my truck, along with hot coffee and cold breakfast burritos."

"I'd kiss you if I wasn't afraid my lips would fall off," Noah rasped. He helped Hailey out while Charlie lifted the dog. She teetered so much Reece tucked her beside him and dragged her into the back of the crew cab. Noah's heart raced with worry.

The snow had lightened, but it was still coming down.

When Reece turned to offer Noah a hand, Noah shook his head. "I'm okay. Is she going to be all right?"

"I'll let you know as soon as you get into the truck and I have a chance to check her out. But hey, good job getting everyone through the night." He held his fist out for a bump, and Noah obliged him. Reece's approval tickled pride deep inside Noah's chest.

When Noah climbed into his brother's cherry-red truck, Charlie was already pressing a cup of hot liquid to Hailey's pale lips. Shit. She didn't look good.

"Reece is a trained EMT, and he's going to take some vitals, okay?" Charlie told her.

She nodded and let Reece run through his process, answering his questions without a hiccup.

"Good to go," Reece declared. "You'll feel a lot better once you warm up and get some food in your body." He turned to Noah. "Your turn, little bro."

"I'm fine," Noah protested.

Before Reece could counter, Hailey's eyes caught Noah's, and he was struck by their color. They were ice-blue, ringed in navy with matching dark flecks, reminding him of a glacier surrounded by ocean, and for a moment he froze.

Her eyebrows scrunched into a weary frown. "We all know you're a hero, Noah Hunnicutt, so let your brother do his job. I want you healthy so I can apologize—and thank you—properly."

Noah exchanged an eyebrow arch with Reece. His brother fought a smirk. "Listen to the lady, dumbass. She's got more sense than you do. How did you end up in a ditch anyway?"

Noah's answer slid out as smoothly as butter on a hot muffin. "Wasn't paying attention."

Hailey shot him a quizzical expression, and he shrugged in reply. Her mouth curved in what he thought was a grateful smile. A cosmic something passed between them. Suddenly, Noah didn't give a shit that she was the cause of an overnight ordeal that could have ended in disaster.