Talk Me Down

“No. No, it’s not fine. First of all, I’m almost entirely certain they don’t make twelve-inch snow tires. Second, you’re going to get high-centered on the first rut of snow you drive over. Third, you will then be crushed by one of the three-hundred SUVs driven by the saner citizens of this town.”

She leaned against the door jamb and nodded sagely. “Mmm. Fascinating. Did my mother call you?”

“No, but she will call. And I don’t have the manpower to drive by your place every time it snows just to reassure her. And I definitely don’t have the manpower to rescue you from your own driveway twice a week.”

“I’ve already arranged with Love’s Garage to have it plowed.”

“Okay, I don’t have the manpower to rescue you from the grocery store parking lot every Saturday.”

She crossed her arms and smiled up at him. “You’re kind of sexy when you’re in charge. Has anyone ever told you that?”

That was when he noticed her shirt. Her long, worn-out, practically translucent white T-shirt. Her naked legs. The bare feet tipped by painted pink toes. She yawned again, then shivered, clearing up any mystery about whether she was wearing a bra.

“I apologize,” Ben said, his tone carefully formal. “Did I wake you?”

“Yes, but I’ll have to keep some sort of civilized schedule here or I’ll get awfully lonely. No one else stays up till three around here. Actually, maybe you do. It’d be just you and me…and the snowplows.”

Just you and me…

“I really, really like your hat,” she added with that twinkle in her eye again. “Really.”

Ben found himself reaching up self-consciously to touch the brim and made his hand jerk back to his side. It was the same kind of Stetson most law enforcement wore in the Rockies. Nothing special enough to make her look so…naughty.

“Back to the car,” he growled. “If it can be called that.”

Molly opened the door wider and a breeze swept in, molding the shirt to her chest. Ben almost swallowed his tongue at the sight of hard nipples outlined so lovingly by thin white cotton.

“You want some coffee?”

She turned, leaving the door open for him, and Ben stepped inside in self-defense. He had to close the door before another gust of wind caught her shirt, because he did not need to get that well acquainted with the curve of her ass. Even if his brain was giving a little victory whoop.

“Jesus,” he muttered, and stayed next to the door. It was time to go. He couldn’t remember why he’d come in the first place. She still needed waking up about that toy car, but now was the time for a strategic retreat.

“You want cream and sugar?” she called from the kitchen.

“No, I—”

The jangle of an old-fashioned phone interrupted him.

“Hold on!” Molly called.

Ben heard her answer cheerfully, then her voice dropped to an ominous note that brought all his cop instincts to life.

“Where did you get this number?” she growled.

Ben headed straight for the kitchen.

“Yes, I turned my cell off. Take the hint, Cameron.”

He slowed as he came to the white molding that outlined the kitchen archway, but she’d stopped talking. She stood with her hand pressed to her forehead, murmuring “Mmm-hmm,” every once in a while.

She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them to catch Ben staring at her. Eyebrows flying high with alarm, she whipped around to face the sink, but he could still hear her side of the conversation.

“No. Is that clear enough? No. Now goodbye.”

Her smile was bright and cheerful when she spun back around, still clutching the phone. “The coffee’s almost done!”

“Who was that?”

“Who?”

“On the phone.”

The wide smile didn’t budge as she shook her head in patently false confusion.

“‘Cameron,’ I think you said.”

“Oh, Cameron! He’s just a guy from Denver.”

“An ex kind of guy?”

“Huh?” She raised her hands, palms up, and frowned as if he’d just asked if Cameron were a superhero. “Of course not. No. Why?”

“No reason.” More secrets. Perfect.

“So, cream and sugar?” She moved through the small kitchen with easy grace, completely comfortable wearing almost nothing in front of him. Who was this girl he’d known his whole life? This girl with secrets and…and…nipples?

“Yes,” he heard himself answering. “Cream and sugar.”

She flashed a smile over her shoulder as she poured. “A real man’s man, huh? Confident enough to drink girly coffee? I’m impressed.”

“Girly coffee? Wow. Thanks, Molly.”

“I said I was impressed.”

“Right.”

She handed him a cup, then leaned against the counter with her own mug clasped between two hands. Ben was very aware of her eyes taking him in, pausing on his chest and his mouth. He was very aware of her thighs, golden and rounded and totally off-limits and what the hell was he still doing here?

He closed his eyes and raised the cup to his mouth.

“So…” she said. “About that night…”

Coffee exploded into his windpipe, burning and choking him. He wheezed and coughed until he could breathe again, then opened his eyes to her stunned laughter.

“Are you okay?” she gasped.

“You did that on purpose.”