Snowed in with Her Ex

Bree winced and nodded. He could tell from the visible tension in her neck and shoulders that this was equally awkward for her. She was strung tight as a drum, and the familiarity of their past urged him to reach out and massage her neck the way he used to. But that was just nostalgia talking. He sincerely doubted touching Bree would help this situation.

“You didn’t know I was coming?”

“No, I...left all the details to Missy. She didn’t mention who the photographer would be.”

“I knew that I should’ve said something,” she began, “or given you some kind of warning in case you didn’t know, but I’d hoped not to make a big deal of it. My business partners didn’t know you and I were acquainted.”

Acquainted. That was one word for it. Touched every inch of each other’s bodies was another way to phrase it. Once the shock of her arrival faded, Ian let his curious gaze run over the rest of her once-familiar curves. There were more than he remembered, but they’d practically been kids then, still teenagers. Now she was a full-grown woman in a pair of jeans that looked painted-on.

“Is this going to be a problem for you?” she asked. “It’s not for me. I intend to keep this very professional. Your fiancée doesn’t even need to know we’ve met previously, if that’s what you prefer.”

“Yes, that’s probably for the best.” Although Missy claimed she had little competition, she was at the same time insanely jealous. She had made headlines for starting catfights in night clubs and industry parties. She’d snatched the extensions out of her supposed rival’s hair for just talking to her ex-boyfriend at a promoted event in Las Vegas.

Ian hadn’t given Missy any reason to be jealous, but he knew how easily that switch could flip in her. The last thing he needed was Missy throwing a fit about the photographer. They needed these pictures done and released to the magazine for the scheduled issue. They couldn’t wait for someone else to come up here and replace Bree.

That is, if anyone else could even make it up the mountain. The snow was falling faster than ever now. “We’d better get your things inside,” he suggested.

Bree nodded. When she turned to head toward the back of her car, her shoe skidded on the slick pavement. Her eyes widened and her arms shot out for something to steady her, but it was Ian’s lightning-fast reflexes that saved her. He reached out, his arms encircling her waist and tugging her up and against his body.

Ian instantly knew he’d made a mistake. The whole length of her was pressed into him. The scent of her favorite lotion mingled with the baby shampoo she’d always used. The familiar combination rushed to his nose, bringing back flashes of hot nights in his dorm room and in the back of his car. His entire body tensed, the cold unable to dampen the sudden arousal that being near Bree had so easily caused.

Bree clung to him, her ivory cheeks flushed pink from the cold and a hint of embarrassment. Her baby-blue eyes met his for a moment and the connection between them snapped like a current flowing freely through a copper wire. It had always been like this. Even minutes after he’d had her, he’d want her again. Back then, if she wasn’t in his arms, she was all he could think about.

He tore his gaze from hers, letting his eyes settle on the pink pucker of her mouth. That wasn’t much better. Her lips had been the softest, most welcoming lips he’d ever encountered, before college or since. Kissing Bree had been one of the divine pleasures of his life. Losing that had been almost as hard as losing his music.

That thought brought him back to reality. Ian steadied her on her feet and then disentangled himself from her before he did something stupid like kiss her. Bree reached a hand out for the side mirror of her car, taking a solid step back from him.

“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks now crimson. “That was really embarrassing.”

“That was nothing,” he said, more to himself than to her, but he followed it up. “Embarrassing would’ve been bruising your hind end on the driveway and getting your pants soaking wet and muddy.”

“True,” she said, looking around, apparently unwilling to meet his gaze again.

“Are your things in the trunk?” he asked.

“Yes.” Bree perked up, seemingly happy to focus on her work again. With one hand on her car she stepped cautiously to the back and opened the hatch on her Honda. She slung a green backpack over her shoulder and then pulled out a few black bags and a tripod.

Ian took as much as he could from her and escorted her up the stairs into the cabin. He let her focus on setting up her equipment and turned to his phone as a distraction. Hopefully reading a couple emails would help dull the raging arousal that still pumped through his veins and clouded his mind.

He hadn’t had a reaction to a woman like that since...He thought back and frowned. Since the last time he’d held Bree in his arms. Not even the belly-baring diva of his record label could match the need Bree built in him right now. He didn’t want that to be the case—life would be so much easier if things were reversed—but there was no denying it.

Missy would have a glass-breaking fit if she knew.

* * *

Bree focused on setting up her equipment even though she knew it was a pointless exercise. An hour had gone by without any sign of his fiancée. If she didn’t show up in the next half hour, the odds were that she wasn’t coming. One glance out the window made it perfectly obvious that the drive in would be next to impossible.

She had barely made it up the mountainside herself. Her tires had spun a time or two, lodging her heart in her throat. But that was nothing, nothing compared to the collision she’d just had with Ian.

It had been nine years since they’d been together. She should be over him by now. Long over him. Yet, when she was pressed against the hard wall of his chest and staring up into the dark green eyes she’d once lost herself in, the years apart seemed to vanish in an instant. All the reasons she walked away, all the heartache and the doubts, gone.

She thought he felt it, too. For a moment, she sensed a connection between them. An instant of attraction and longing had flickered in his eyes, a soft smile curling his lips. And then he’d looked away. A hard glint had shone in his eyes as he gently pushed her out of his arms.

And just as quickly, she’d realized she was a fool.

She hadn’t been able to get to her equipment fast enough. Bree needed the safety and security of her camera. It was like a barrier between her and the world. As long as she only looked at Ian through the lens, she would be okay.

At least that’s what she told herself.

That didn’t keep her from sneaking peeks of Ian now as she worked. As much as she tried to focus, her gaze would lift and she would take in a few seconds of his broad shoulders clad in black cashmere. His strong hands gripping his cell phone and typing madly at his laptop computer. The firm curve of his rear, highlighted by the custom fit of his gray wool pants...

Groaning, Bree focused her attention back on her equipment. The work is what would get her through this. It was just stupid, misplaced attraction mixed with nostalgia and jealousy. It wasn’t like things between them had ended well. There were plenty of good reasons why they didn’t work as a couple, and she had broken up with him. No sense in pining for something she had given up.

Not that it had been much to give up near the end. During the last two months of their relationship, Ian had completely changed as a person. Part of what had initially attracted Bree to Ian was that he was as different from her father as a man could get.

Doug Harper was a certified workaholic. He was successful and driven, spending nearly every waking hour of his life managing his construction company. He’d helped build half of Nashville and had made a fortune doing it. Her mother had filled the empty hours by traveling around the world and spending her husband’s earnings. That had left Bree alone at home with the housekeeper each night.

It had been a miserably lonely existence she didn’t intend to repeat as an adult. She’d always told herself she wanted a man who came home at night. One who was more interested in living than working. Who would put more importance on family and love than money and business. A soulful musician fit the bill nicely.

Ian had been everything she wanted and he’d really had a shot of doing well with his music. Until he’d stopped playing music and dropped out of school to work at a record company. Suddenly, he’d always been working.

It seemed like overnight she had lost her musician and in his place stood a clone of her dad. It had broken her heart to watch it happen, but in the end, things had turned out for the best. Ian had become extremely successful and was marrying his pop star. She had a career she was proud of and hopefully would one day find the perfect person for her, too. The photo session shouldn’t be awkward at all. At all.

So why did she have butterflies fluttering in her stomach?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ian’s voice. He was talking loudly to someone on the phone. He didn’t sound happy, but she was relieved to hear it was the weather and Missy’s tardiness that concerned him. For a moment, she’d thought he might ring up Natalie and demand another photographer. That would be so embarrassing. She couldn’t go back to Nashville and face her friends after something like that.

“What?” Ian’s sharp voice cut through the cabin, echoing in the large open space of the living room where she was unpacking. “Are you sure? No. No, of course I don’t blame you. I want you and the baby to be safe. That’s the most important thing. We can reschedule.”

Bree froze, waiting to hear the rest of the story. She was thankful she’d opted to have Amelia book her a hotel room nearby. Making it back to Nashville in this weather was a dangerous prospect. She glanced out the large bay window that looked over the valley below. She couldn’t see anything but white. No cars, no roads, no trees. Just white.

A loud curse followed by a hollow thunk startled her. She straightened up and turned back toward the kitchen. Ian blew through the archway a moment later, his jaw tight and the edges of his ears red with anger. He looked at Bree, about to speak, then he stopped himself. He shoved his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath. “She’s not coming.”

Bree had gathered that much. “What happened?”

“The roads are all closed unless you have snow chains and even then, some roads are impassable. Missy was coming from Atlanta. She made it as far as Maryville, but then they started sending cars back. There’s no way to get here.” He shook his head. “I should’ve waited to do this until we could drive up together.”

Bree bit her lip, not quite sure what to say to that. “I guess we can reschedule the session in Nashville, if that’s easier.”

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the polished wooden floors. “That’s probably the best plan.”

Bree nodded. There was a confusing pang of emotions in her stomach as she turned back to her equipment to pack up.

She was relieved that she didn’t have to face his beautiful and successful fiancée today. She didn’t really feel like snapping pictures while they posed together intimately and smiled at her camera. She’d dodged the bullet. When she got back to Nashville, she needed to confess the truth to Natalie. It was probably for the best that someone else handle their engagement portraits and maybe the wedding itself. There was being a professional and there was being a masochist. She recognized the difference now.

At the same time, she didn’t want to leave. Walking out the door meant she might never see Ian again. When he’d held her outside, she’d felt a heat in her belly that hadn’t burned that strongly in a long time. She wanted him to hold her again. To kiss her the way she hadn’t been kissed in years.

She groaned inwardly and zipped her bag. Maybe she was a masochist. She was fantasizing about her ex. Her engaged, soon-to-be-a-daddy ex. The ex she’d broken up with because she couldn’t take the sudden change in everything about him. Overnight, he’d gone from a music major to a record label toadie working eighty hours a week. Bree was certain none of that had changed. He ran a successful record label. Just because he took a weekend off to pose for engagement pictures didn’t mean he was cured of his affliction.