The First Love Cookie Club (18 page)

“No, I lost it in the lake the day you rescued me and I haven’t gotten around to replacing it. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, although how do you get by without a cell phone?”

She shrugged. “I’m not a phone person.”

“Yeah, but you need one for emergencies. We’re buying you a new one when we get back to town.”

“Yes, sir.”

He blew out his breath. “Anyway, Jazzy’s safe and snug as a bug in a rug on Aunt Raylene’s couch watching
The Little Mermaid
for the two millionth time, so I don’t have to worry about them getting trapped by an ice storm in Fort Worth.”

“That’s good.”

Through the windshield, Sarah watched the sky turn the color of a fresh bruise and the wind viciously slap the treetops. In just a few hours the temperature had plummeted dramatically. She had forgotten how erratic and unpredictable North Texas weather could be. Travis turned the pickup truck around and checked the trailer in the rear-view mirror.

He headed in the direction from which they’d come. The pickup truck crested a small rise but on the other side was a deep gully rutted in the road. The truck slammed down hard, followed by a loud bang, and the impact rattled Sarah’s teeth.

The truck stalled.

Travis gave it gas, but a loud clanging and grinding noise had him easing off immediately.

He swore colorfully.

Sarah frowned, alarmed. This didn’t sound good. “What is it?”

“Stay in the truck,” he said, getting out. “It’s too damn cold for you to be out here.”

“What happened? Can I help?”

“Just pray it’s not what I think it is.”

He shut the door and disappeared from her view as he bent down to check underneath the truck. A couple of minutes later he was back inside, a grim expression on his face.

“I take it my prayers didn’t work.”

“It’s a busted axle,” he muttered.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s gotta be towed in. My cell phone battery is kaput and …” He trailed off just as the heavens opened and spat out an avalanche of icicles.

“So this is a hunter’s cabin.” Sarah glanced around the tiny one-room log structure that was in severe need of a good dusting. Cobwebs dangled from the corners, looking all Halloweenesque. A camp stove that had seen better days in the 1950s crouched next to the rough-hewn pine table. Battered pots and pans hung from pegs on the wall. The soot-covered fireplace gave off an I’m-a-serious-fire-hazard vibe and across from it sat a double bed piled high with faded quilts.

Travis flicked on the light switch but nothing happened. “Power must be off since Frank’s not leasing this year.”

“Just you and me and cabin makes three.”

“Yep.”

“Well,” she said.

“Well,” he echoed.

Oh great, now that they were trapped in here together he was going to turn into monosyllable man. Lovely. Feeling a bit claustrophobic, she peered out the window. The ice was coming down in swift,gray sheets, making
clink, clink, clink
noises as it hit the panes.

“You know,” she said, “I’m not really a wilderness girl.”

“No kidding. The stiletto boots you wanted to wear were a big tip-off. And the fashion gloves for tree chopping. That was a giveaway too. Oh, and your tiny designer purse.”

Sarah clutched her little Dooney & Bourke to her chest. “What’s wrong with my purse? It holds all the essentials. Makeup, money, credit cards, driver’s license, breath mints, tissues. What else do you need?”

“It’s fine for a day in Manhattan.”

“Exactly.”

“Except we happen to be in a back pasture on one of the biggest ranches in North Texas in an ice storm. Do you at least have some matches in there?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

“Oh, so the big he-man is going to take care of poor, ill-equipped city girl?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.”

“Don’t drag out the big words. I’m not going to get into a verbal fencing match with you.”

” ‘Implied’ is not a big word.”

“It’s a fancy word.”

“No, it’s not.”

“You’re a writer, words are your weapons, I get that. When you’re feeling vulnerable it’s only natural that you’d whip them out.”

“Weapons? What are you talking about?”

“You use your intellect to keep people at a distance,” he said mildly.

Did she? Probably. “Oh, please. That argument has at its core a central fallacy.”

He smiled, almost to himself, as if he found her infinitely amusing.

The smile irritated her. “What?” she snapped.

“Fallacy?”

“What’s wrong with ‘fallacy'? It’s a legitimate word.”

“Fancy.”

“All right, if that’s the way you want to play it, so what if I use fancy words? It’s who I am. Deal with it.”

He folded his arms over his chest and didn’t speak, but the smile had turned into a smirk. One look from him and she was wound up like a pound puppy on adoption day. She wanted to walk out on him, except there was nowhere to go.

“So what if I got straight A’s in school and graduated with a 3.8 GPA from college? I would have had a 4.0 if it hadn’t been for that required statistics class. I hate statistics. What’s the probability that it will sleet on a day that starts out sixty-four degrees and sunny, right? Statistics would tell you that the chances are slim to none, but does statistics take berserk Texas weather into account? No indeedy. And that’s what’s wrong with statistics.”

“You’re nervous,” he said.

“What makes you say that? Why would you think I was nervous? I’m not nervous.”

“You’re prattling.”

“I am?”

“You told me you prattle when you’re nervous.”

“Did I? No, no, I said I babble when I’m nervous.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Babbling is nonsensical. Prattling is going on and on and on …”

“Which is what you’re doing.”

Sarah wrinkled her nose, raised a palm to her mouth. Gosh, where had she learned to prattle? Surely not when she was in her apartment diligently writing. Then again, maybe that’s precisely where she had learned to prattle. All those hours alone, talking to imaginary characters, trying to coax them to talk to her on the page.

“I’m sorry. Am I getting on your nerves?”

His smile was kind. “Never. And don’t worry,” he said, not only brave in the face of her prattling, but easily sliding into macho-male protector mode. “We’re going to be fine.”

He opened up the backpack he’d dragged in from the pickup truck with him and started going through it. “Water,” he said, slapping several bottles down on the table. “Turkey jerky.” He tossed the fat package beside the water bottles.

“I hope you have dental floss with that,” she said because she was definitely feeling outgunned. He had been prepared, where she’d been relying on the statistical probability that it would not sleet.

“Toothbrushes too.” Miraculously, he extracted new toothbrushes, toothpaste, and dental floss from the backpack’s side pocket. “I’m a big believer in dental hygiene.”

“Oh yeah, your dad was a dentist. I remember. No wonder you have such sexy teeth.”

“You find my teeth sexy?”

She flicked a gaze over him. “Don’t get all ego-y about it.”

“Ego-y, huh? Is that anything like ‘choppy down tree thingy'?”

“It’s exactly like that.” She giggled.

He gazed at her tenderly. “I love to hear you laugh.”

She felt her cheeks flush. She loved to laugh, Sarah realized.

“Apples,” he continued. Four large Red Delicious joined the water and turkey jerky.

“Impressive, Officer I’m Prepared for Any Disaster.”

“Hey, I’ve gotten trapped in the wilderness before. This is experience talking here.”

“Lucky me, I’m iced in with Daniel Boone.”

“Thank you for the compliment.” Travis grinned and kept digging. “Nuts.”

“What? Did you forget the kitchen sink?”

“No, actual nuts.” Out came three small plastic sacks. “Pecans, cashews, walnuts.”

“Cashews, yum, my favorite.”

“Club crackers and string cheese.”

“You truly are a wilderness man.”

“Two cans of chicken noodle soup.” He held them up. “With round noodles because that’s Jazzy’s favorite kind.”

“If you have chocolate chip cookies in there I’m marrying you.” The minute she said it, she could have bitten off her tongue.

“Chocolate chip cookies move you that much, huh?”

She shrugged, laughed. “Well, you know … chocolate.”

“Makes even a rational woman lose her head?” Travis tilted his chin and slanted her a sideways glance that sent a delicious shiver sliding down her spine.

“Um … something like that.”

“You’re cold,” he said.

She crossed her arms over her chest. Crap, were her nipples showing through her bra and sweater? “No, I’m not.” Fact was she was hot, hot, hot.

“I’ll get a fire going.”

He’d already started a hellacious fire inside her. “I thought you didn’t have any matches.”

“No,” he said,
“you
didn’t have any matches. I always carry them.”

“Show-off.”

“Come on, admit it, you like that I came prepared.”

“You’re way too self-assured for my own good.”

“I’m not nearly as confident as you think.” The raw honesty on his face took her by surprise. “Truth is, I’m as afraid of being stranded here with you as you are of being here with me.”

“Really?” she whispered.

“Sarah …” He stepped forward and she didn’t back up. “Ever since that night I pulled you from the lake all I’ve been able to think about is making love to you, really making love to you. When you left Twilight, I thought, Well, that’s it, but then you came back—“

They met in the middle of the floor, his arms going around her, pulling her up tight against his chest while she entwined her arms around his neck.

She inhaled him, pulled his bottom lip into her mouth and nibbled lightly.

He groaned and closed his eyes. “Woman,” he growled. “Keep that up and you’re in serious trouble.”

Sarah stepped back. He was right. This was headed only one place. Did she really want to go there? Was she ready to take that leap?

“Let’s take it slow,” he said, reading her mind. “Real slow. We’ve got all night. Nobody’s going to be able to get out here to rescue us in this ice storm. I’ll start a fire. We’ll be safe and warm.”

As if to prove his point, the wind gusted outside and sent a fresh pelting of sleet knocking against the windowpanes.

It was true. He did make her feel safe in a way she’d never felt before. She’d spent so many years taking care of herself that this was heady stuff. Knowing he could and would take care of her, come what may.

“Promise not to throw me out on the porch half naked when it’s over?” she quipped.

“Sarah,” he murmured, cupping her face between his palm. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“I’m teasing.”

“Only partially,” he said, seeing straight through her. “I hurt you.”

“I understand. Jazzy comes first.”

“She does, but I had no right to make you feel embarrassed or ashamed.”

“Seems to be my MO where you’re concerned.”

“I think it’s time we got you a new MO.”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“What if you assumed the role of my girlfriend?”

“Why, Officer Walker, are you asking me to go steady?”

“What would you say if I was?” His gray eyes drilled into her.

Her heart thumped and her mind filled immediately with lovely fantasies. But she’d learned a long time ago you couldn’t put your faith in daydreams. “I’d say that long-distance relationships rarely work out.”

“And I’d counter that writers can work anywhere. In fact, seems you work better right here in Twilight than you do in New York.”

“Are you asking me to give up my place in Manhattan?”

“You got anything keeping you there?”

She dared to hold his steady stare. “Do I have anything waiting for me here?”

He hesitated. It was just for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to extinguish the flicker of hope that fluttered in her chest. “You’ve got a lot of friends here.”

“Yes,” she said, stamping on the rush of sadness and forcing a smile. “I do have that now.”

“Sarah, I—“

“Don’t feel like you have to apologize for not being able to make me any promises. It’s okay. I get it. You’re a good father who has to make sure his personal decisions don’t adversely affect his child.”

“Sarah,” he whispered, “you are the kindest, most understanding woman I know.”

“It’s not that,” she said. “I care about Jazzy too.”

“So we take it one step at a time?”

“Hey, the longest journey begins with a single step, right?”

“Right.”

“Um … before we take this any further, I have one question,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“Do you have any condoms in that backpack?”

He laughed. “What do you think?”

“Oh? You were that sure of yourself?”

“No, I just didn’t want to be caught unprepared.”

“You know, they really should consider you as director for FEMA. You’re much better prepared than some of the people they’ve had in charge.”

“Speaking of being prepared, I need to get that fire going,” he said.

“Are you hungry? I could heat up some of that soup for lunch.”

“Sounds good.”

Sarah retreated to the gas camp stove to heat the chicken noodle soup while Travis braved the elements in search of firewood. Whatever happened tonight in this cabin, she was going to take it at face value. Just enjoy the moment. No fantasies. No expectations. No hopes of happily-ever-after. She was simply going to have a good time.

While the soup heated, Sarah stepped into the adjoining bathroom—such as it was—to freshen up. She brushed her hair and applied fresh lipstick. When she emerged, she found a crackling fire in the fireplace and Travis bent over, feeding in more logs.

Unbidden, her gaze tracked down the length of his muscular back to take in the curve of his butt underneath his jeans. She tilted her head, fully enjoying the view.

He straightened, turned, and visibly sucked in a deep breath. “My God, but you’re gorgeous.”

The tops of her ears flushed. “He can predict the weather, pack one hell of a backpack, and start a fire with ice-cold wood. What more can a girl ask for?”

“If you don’t know,” he said, reaching out a hand to draw her closer to the fire, “I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

“I’m looking forward to benefiting from your expertise.” She went up on tiptoes to nibble his earlobe.

Travis groaned and buried his face in her hair. “If you don’t stop that right now, the soup is going to burn to the bottom of the pan and I won’t give a good damn.”

She giggled, amazed at her own exuberance. “Down, tiger, I’ll go ladle us up some soup.”

To take advantage of the warmth, Travis dragged the table and chairs over, positioning them in front of the fireplace. They sat down at the table across from each other, the bowls of soup between them adding steam to the already sultry air. The way he looked at her as they ate sent heat seeping through her body. Nervousness suffused her along with the heat. Nervousness and excitement. They were iced in together with no place to go and nothing to do…

Unbidden, her gaze tracked over to the bed.

He saw where her gaze went and a grin tipped his lips. Quickly, Sarah yanked her attention back to her soup bowl.

“So tell me, what was your favorite story as a kid?” he asked, clearly searching for a neutral topic to put her at ease.

“A
Wrinkle in Time
by Madeleine L’Engle.”

“The book you were reading the day we found you at the scavenger hunt.”

“Yes. Madeleine helped me through some tough times as a kid.”

In particular the time I embarrassed myself over you. She gave me hope that I could disappear into a black hole and come out sane on the other side.

“You associated closely with Meg,” he said.

“You know the main character? You’ve read the book?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I do know how to read.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“It’s one of Jazzy’s favorite books too. But
The Magic Christmas Cookie
is still number one on her list. You helped her cope with life the way Madeleine L’Engle helped you.” Travis cocked his head and studied her for a long time.