“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I leaned.” Then she burst into laughter. “That was fun.”
Ryan sat back, the dogs dancing around them, licking at their faces. “We’re okay,” she murmured, petting them both. “Well, like I said, a tumble in the snow never hurt anyone.”
“Can we go again?”
“Sure. Just as soon as you go down and fetch the sled.”
Jen stuck her tongue out at her playfully, then grinned mischievously as she tossed a snowball at her. Ryan laughed as Jen sprinted away from her. She ruffled the dogs’ fur, then stood, watching Jen’s progress as she went after their sled. She realized she was still smiling and looked away. Yes, she admitted, she was attracted to Jen. A lot. Sure, Jen was cute and had those killer blue eyes, but she would attribute it more to them being stuck together than anything else. Straight women with fiancés in the picture never had done much to her libido before. As for Jen, their close contact on the sled didn’t seem to have affected her in the least. Which she supposed was a good thing. At least Jen wasn’t shying away from her.
Jen’s breathing was labored as she approached, dragging the sled behind her. The snow was crunchy under her boots and was starting to cake on them.
“Okay. I’m good for one more,” Jen said between breaths. “But you’re in the back.”
“You got it.”
Once back at the top of the hill, Ryan steadied the sled. She opened her legs and patted the spot between them. Jen sat down, reaching for Ryan’s hands. She pulled them tight around her, holding them in place. Ryan scooted down, pressing Jen snugly between her thighs.
God, that feels good.
She hesitated just a second, relishing it for a moment longer. Jen turned and their eyes met. Ryan was shocked by what she saw there. Her gaze dropped to Jen’s lips, then back up.
“Hang on,” she said quietly.
Jen nodded, finally ending their intense stare. It was almost in slow motion—their trip down the hill. Ryan could hear each heartbeat, could feel her skin burning where Jen touched it. And with each bump, Jen was slammed back against her, causing her arousal to grow even more. Who would have thought sledding could be an erotic sport? She forced herself to concentrate on keeping them upright, all the while holding Jen tightly in her arms. As they neared the bottom, she loosened her grip, reaching for the rope. She pulled up sharply and dropped her feet, easing them to a clean stop.
She felt Jen quietly laughing against her chest, and she joined in. Jen turned, smiling into her eyes.
“Thank you.”
“Oh, it was my pleasure,” Ryan said. She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly. “Believe me.”
Jen laughed outright. “You’re terrible,” she said, pushing against her playfully. She got up, holding a hand out for Ryan. As Ryan stood, their eyes held again. “I have never had so much fun,” Jen said.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not talking about just today, although this was super. I know me being stuck here wasn’t in your plans,” Jen said, “and I’m really sorry for that. But I’ve just had so much
fun
with you. I feel...I don’t know, I can’t even explain it.”
She surprised Ryan by pulling her into a hug. Ryan sunk into the embrace, holding her tightly for a few seconds, again relishing the feeling of having another woman in her arms. When they pulled apart, she was surprised by the subtle blush on Jen’s face. She was even more surprised by the look that still lingered in her eyes.
They were both quiet as they trudged back to the cabin. The dogs ran ahead of them, as usual, although their steps were a bit slower too. Apparently their racing up and down the hill had tuckered them as well. To the west, dark clouds were building. Ryan pointed to them.
“Storm’s on the horizon,” she said.
“How long before it gets here?”
“We should see snow by dusk,” she said. “Although the news said the brunt of it wouldn’t hit until around midnight.”
“So in the morning, this will all be covered again,” Jen said as she stopped, her gaze fixed on the dark clouds.
“Blizzard, so yeah. We could get five feet or so. But this time of year, it won’t last long. A couple of days and we’ll hear it melting again.” She paused. “I suppose you’re anxious to get out of here, huh?”
Jen had a thoughtful expression on her face as she turned to look at her. “I imagine
you
are more anxious than I.” She turned her gaze back to the storm clouds. “This has been...therapeutic for me, I think.” Jen smiled then. “Of course, it’s been at your expense. I do know my time is dwindling down and I’ll be leaving soon. But it hasn’t been a hardship for me.” She turned to look at her again. “You’ve been wonderful. I can’t thank you enough.”
“No need. While the prospect of spending six to eight weeks together was a bit daunting in the beginning, the time has flown by.”
“Yes, but I’ve gotten in your way.”
“You haven’t been in the way,” Ryan insisted.
“No? I doubt you’ve been working as much as you should. You must have a deadline,” Jen said. “Instead, you’ve been keeping me entertained.”
Ryan looked away. No, she hadn’t been writing as much but not because Jen was in the way. It was just conversation got in the way, which wasn’t a bad thing. But she probably did owe her some kind of explanation about her supposed editing gig.
“I have another few weeks before my deadline,” she said. “I’m all but done anyway,” she lied.
Jen tilted her head as if studying her—scrutinizing her—and Ryan wondered if Jen knew she was lying. She shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, finally pulling her eyes away as she reached a hand out for Kia.
“My turn to cook dinner,” Jen said. “How about stew? We still have potatoes.”
“Sounds great,” she said, smiling at Jen’s casual use of “we.” “I’ll let you have the shower first. I need to go close up the shed and cover the firewood pile and tend to a few other things before the snow falls.”
Jen nodded and headed to the cabin. Ryan watched her for a moment, then turned, whistling for the dogs as she made her way around the side and to the shed.
Jen stood at the window, watching the first snowflakes fall lazily to the deck. The storm had rolled in quickly, the dark clouds hiding the sun, bringing an abrupt end to the day. The stew was simmering and the aroma was filling up the cabin, making for a cozy evening. Ryan had taken the dogs out on a short hike before dark, leaving Jen alone with her increasingly unsettled thoughts.
She didn’t quite know what to make of it all. Her growing attachment to Ryan was one thing, but something else, just under the surface, was clamoring to be heard. She’d felt it for days, if not weeks, yet it wasn’t until the sled ride that she truly understood it. And if she’d had the energy to hike up the hill again, she’d have requested just one more ride, just to feel that thrill. Not the excitement of speeding on the snow, but the thrill of being cushioned in Ryan’s arms, held tight against her body.
She turned away from the window, her face flushed, embarrassed by her thoughts. She wasn’t comfortable around most people, and she wasn’t one for touching or being touched. She wasn’t a hugger. At first, she hadn’t grasped the concept of sledding. When Ryan had beckoned her to sit between her legs, she should have objected. Their personal space would be blurred. Turns out, not only was it blurred, it was totally erased. The pleasure she felt as those arms snaked around her waist was immense. And she wanted to try it, she wanted to be the one in the back, she wanted to know what it felt like to touch someone that way.
She smiled shyly. She had been so distracted by holding Ryan against her the way she had, she had completely forgotten about sledding and ended up toppling them over. Which was fun in itself.
Fun. Yes, the day had been fun. And full of surprises. And now a blizzard was approaching and they were safe and warm inside. Ryan had said they needed to conserve their power usage so they didn’t drain the batteries, but she did turn the TV on long enough to catch a weather forecast. The high mountains could get five feet or more of snow, certainly enough to cover their solar panels and bury the satellite dish.
She glanced at her laptop, fully charged. They still had Internet. She supposed she should catch up on her e-mail, but she ignored that task, as she had been doing lately. She e-mailed Cheryl at least once a week, just to let her know she was okay. She and Brad had exchanged only a few short notes. And Susan, her agent, she’d e-mailed twice. But yesterday when she’d checked her mail, she had ten or twelve that needed her attention and it was just too overwhelming. She’d closed her laptop and ignored them, including one from Brad she had yet to even read.
She heard a bark outside and knew they were back. She went into the kitchen to stir the stew, stirring her own thoughts as well.
“It’s started,” Ryan said unnecessarily, as the evidence littered her dark hair. “The wind’s picking up too.”
Jen’s gaze followed her to the stove where she held her hands out to warm them. There was only one small lamp on, making it appear even later than it was.
“Has the temperature dropped?” she asked. It had been almost spring-like during their sledding.
Ryan nodded. “Yeah, the front is definitely here.” She made a show of sniffing the air. “Smells great. I’m starving.”
“Must have been all that sledding you did,” she teased.
“Must have been.” Ryan joined her in the kitchen, lifting the lid and sniffing again. “Mmm. Can I help with something?” Ryan offered.
“No. It just needs to simmer another half hour or so.”
“Was that the last of the potatoes?”
“Afraid so.”
“So it’s on to rice then, I guess. When Reese comes to get you, I need to request a care package.”
Their eyes met briefly, then they both pulled away. Yes, she knew their time together was coming to an end. She’d known it when they’d been out playing. The snow was melting so fast. Yet there would be a reprieve, thanks to the blizzard. Jen turned away, shocked that she was actually thankful for the storm. No doubt Ryan was more than ready for the spring thaw.
“What do you think? Another couple of weeks?”
Ryan nodded. “If the temperature pops back up, I’d guess another week to ten days.”
Jen forced a smile to her face. “See? I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”
“Yes, but I’m getting spoiled by your cooking. I’ll have to fend for myself again.”
Jen followed her movement as Ryan walked to the windows, looking out into the darkness. Jen wondered what she was thinking about. She saw her take a deep breath, then let it out heavily. As Ryan moved, Jen looked away, making a show of stirring the stew.
Conversation lagged as Ryan settled in her recliner with her laptop. The dogs were sprawled out on the floor beside her, creating a scene Jen would remember fondly, she was sure. She let her eyes travel over them, landing on Ryan, noting her disheveled hair, her nearly flawless skin, hands that were both soft and strong, fingers long and limber, the nails neatly trimmed. Jen’s gaze drifted back to her face, Ryan’s brows were drawn, her lips somewhat parted, moving ever so slightly as she read. She was disarmingly attractive, and Jen wondered again why she was alone. She wished Ryan trusted her enough to divulge more about her past. Jen had talked freely about her life, yet Ryan had revealed so little.
“What thoughts are running through that pretty head of yours?”
Jen blinked, realizing that she had been staring. She shook her head and smiled. “Private thoughts.” She took two bowls out, pausing to stir the stew one more time. “Ready to eat?”
“Yes. Let me help,” Ryan said, getting up from her recliner.
“I’ve got it. What would you like to drink?”
“I’ve got a few bottles of wine saved back,” Ryan said. “Not sure how well they will go with stew, though.”
“I wouldn’t know the difference,” she said. “I don’t know the first thing about wine.”
And she didn’t, she thought, as she took a sip. The red wine was a bit dry for her, but Ryan seemed pleased with it. Ryan also dug into the stew, which in turn, pleased her.
“Very good,” Ryan said after another bite. “I’ve never really tried to cook a stew before. When I want soup or something, I usually just open a can.”
“Thanks. My grandmother was big on soup and stew. We had one or the other at least once a week.”
“You’ll have to give me pointers before you leave then,” Ryan said. “My cooking experience has been trial and error. It’s not something I learned to do growing up.”
Jen ignored the reference to her leaving and instead used Ryan’s brief statement to ask a question she’d been curious about. “Where did you grow up?”
Ryan was quiet for the longest time, and Jen thought she wasn’t going to answer. But finally, with an almost apologetic smile, she said, “The Hamptons.”
Jen’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
Ryan shrugged. “Mostly.”
Which, of course, brought more questions to mind, but the look on Ryan’s face told her to keep them to herself. Which she did. The rest of the meal was eaten in near silence with only an occasional comment about the weather each time a gust of wind rattled the windows. It was a bit exciting to know that a major blizzard was happening outside yet they were comfy and warm inside, with no worries of being stranded. Well, no more than they already were.
Ryan helped her clean up the kitchen after dinner, but again, it was a mostly silent affair. She wondered at Ryan’s mood. Even for her, she was being extremely quiet this evening.
However, their routine didn’t waiver as they both took their respective seats with laptops in hand. Ryan immediately began tapping away, and Jen opened up her journal. Feeling a bit shy as she wrote down her thoughts from earlier, recounting their adventure on the sled, she nonetheless went into great detail. Knowing she would be leaving soon, she figured she would delve into it all again once she was back home...and alone.
At nine, Ryan closed up her laptop and stood, stretching her arms over her head with a satisfied sigh. Jen found her gaze traveling up Ryan’s body. She turned away quickly when she found her eyes glued to Ryan’s breasts. She felt the temperature in the room rise twenty degrees, and she reached for her glass of water, downing it in one gulp.