Turn Up the Heat (13 page)

“So, the quitting your job thing is recent, then?” Shane asked, pulling her back to earth. He hooked his thumb through a belt loop, leaning against the rough wooden workbench.

Her lips popped open in surprise, but she didn't shy away from the question. Better to start facing the music. “Well, that depends. Is this morning recent enough for you?”

His eyes widened with momentary shock. “I'd say so.” He waited another beat before asking the dreaded question. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Bellamy meant to open her mouth to offer a heartfelt thanks but no thanks. It was really nice of him to offer to listen to her crap, but there were probably forty-two things he'd rather be doing than listening to a relative stranger do the woe-is-me song and dance.

But then she caught Shane's eyes, open and unpretentious and smolderingly sexy, and the words that crossed her lips were definitely not
thanks but no thanks.

 

 

“Wait, wait. Let me get this straight. Your boss called you in the middle of a dentist's appointment and was pissed you didn't answer while you were getting your teeth cleaned?” Shane's forehead creased as disbelief took over his features.

Bellamy nodded and leaned back in the lone chair Shane had dragged out of the office for her to sit on. She flipped her hand up to signal scout's honor. “Yeah. Her rationale was that my ears still worked just fine. I'm sure she thought it was a bonus that I couldn't exactly protest, either.” She shrugged, propping her empty coffee cup on one knee.

From where he sat, perched on the workbench with his boots dangling over the edge, Shane shook his head. “Okay, truth?” he asked, still giving her a look as though she might be pulling his leg.

She wished. Bosszilla had given her such a hard time about that stupid call, too. “You haven't learned the answer to this question yet?”

“Right, of course.” He nodded, sending his black hair over his eyes before he flipped it back with a nonchalant toss. “It sounds like you're way better off without that job.”

Her insides gave a little quake, but it was less scary than the full-on fear tremors she'd had earlier. “Yeah, remind me of that when the bills come rolling in. I mean, I have some money saved, but the reality is, I wasn't really happy there even before my terrible boss came onto the scene.”

Shane opened his mouth to answer her, but was cut off by the shrill electronic ring of the office phone.

“Ah, that's probably Grady, calling to see if I've left yet,” he said, giving her a guilty look before swinging his legs down from the workbench to grab the phone.

“God, I'm sorry. It's been really good of you to put up with my psychoses and all, but we really should get on the road.”

Shane looked at her over his shoulder. “I'm not worried about the truck handling the snow. Just let me grab this and then I'll get you back to the resort.”

Bellamy stood up and stretched her legs, walking over to look out the window at the snow. Thick, fat flakes were still dumping from the sky, and they swirled in brisk drifts over the gravel drive and the road beyond. She squinted through the glass in confusion. The tire tracks she'd left on her way in had been swallowed whole, and as she looked more closely, Bellamy realized she had no idea where the drive ended and the road began.

And there were easily five inches of snow on both.

“Uh, Bellamy?”

She knew without turning around that she wasn't going to like the look on Shane's face. He leaned in the door frame, phone still in his hand, and met her eyes with an oh-shit expression that made her stomach bottom out somewhere around her hips.

“What? What's the matter?”

“That was my buddy Jackson, who drives a snowplow for the county. They just closed all of the roads going to and from the mountain due to whiteout conditions.”

Her eyes went round and wide as he shook his head and met them with his own.

“It looks like you and I are kind of stuck here.”

Bellamy's eyes were as round as pretty, green dinner plates, and she stared at him, wary. “Define
kind of stuck here
.”

Shane tried not to wince. “Well, they closed the roads to everyone but snowplows about fifteen minutes ago. Jackson said visibility is pretty much nil, so the cops set up roadblocks until the snow eases up.” He didn't add that two cars had skidded right into the guardrails, and that Jackson had almost gone off the road himself a time or two.

“Are you serious?”

Shane shifted in the door frame, trying to look at anything other than the doe-eyed expression on her face. Keeping himself in check when she got all hot-girl-feisty was hard enough. The sweet, vulnerable thing? Shit, an army of him wouldn't stand a chance against that.

“Unfortunately, yeah. Listen, I'm sorry. I should have just taken you back earlier.” He probably would've gotten stuck at the resort that way, but at least it would have been better than being stranded here at the garage. Just the two of them. Alone.

Bellamy shook her head. “No, this is all my fault. If I hadn't come down here like a total lunatic, we wouldn't be stuck here like this. God, my screw-ups know no bounds.”

The look on her face sent a hard kick of remorse to his gut. “If you hadn't come down, I'd be stuck here alone. So look at it this way. It was kind of like doing me a giant favor.” He pushed out of the door frame to reenter the garage, phone in hand.

Bellamy lifted a golden brow at him, a look of stubborn doubt belying the delicate features of her face. “You are so full of shit.”

Her blunt words made him do a little stutter step, stopping him short with a laugh. “Okay, fine. I won't humor you. You're stuck with me until it stops snowing. Why don't you call your friends to let them know you're okay, and I'll see what we've got by way of food. According to the weather report Jackson heard, the snow won't start tapering off until later tonight.”

“Thanks for trying to make me feel better. And I really am sorry.” Bellamy twisted the sleeve of her sweater in a tight spiral with her thumb.

On legs that didn't quite belong to his free will, he stepped in close to meet her eye to eye. “No apologies.”

Sure. Except for the big, fat
sorry, you may not kiss the rich girl
that his neurons were trying to send to the impulsive part of his brain.

“Okay.” Bellamy took the phone and dialed, pacing the floor in a loop. She brushed her free hand through her hair until her forefinger snagged on a lone curl. Moving her wrist through a gentle roll, she wound the curl around her finger as she assured Jenna that she was safe but definitely stuck until the storm passed through.

The graceful way she carried herself was so unexpectedly beautiful that it captivated him, and even though he knew he was supposed to be doing something, he'd be damned if he could remember what it was. His stomach growled, sending up the hungry-man's version of a slap upside the head. Right! Food.

“So, what've we got?” Bellamy finished her lap around the garage, returning to where Shane stood with nothing to show for his efforts but a smile made up of pure bravado and a prayer that she hadn't caught him staring.

“Well, we always keep bottled water around, and there's half a case of it in the office.” Thank God he knew that without looking, having snagged some the day before. “I've got a turkey sub and two apples in the mini-fridge, but there's not much else. Oh, except for the jelly beans.” They were such a staple around the garage that Shane had almost forgotten about them.

“Jelly beans?” Bellamy looked at him, surprised.

He nodded. “Grady keeps a stash of them in ajar in the office. He swears they're how he quit smoking,” Shane replied, going into the office to retrieve the jar. The thing was half full, and while they might get one hell of a sugar high for their trouble, at least it looked like he and Bellamy wouldn't starve.

“That's kind of an unorthodox way to go.” She looked at the jar with curious eyes.

Shane thought of the old man and grinned. “Yeah, he has a helluva sweet tooth. Those damned things work, though. It's been sixteen years since he had a cigarette.”

He put the jar down on the workbench with a plunk and shuffled through the contents on the shelf over the coffeepot. “We have plenty of coffee, too. That and the blanket from my truck should keep us from getting too cold.”

A look of panic seeped into her glance. “What?”

Shane was quick to diffuse her worry. “Relax, as long as we have power, there's heat. It's just that it's drafty in here with all the windows, and we're not exactly well insulated, like a house. So you might want to keep your coat handy after it gets dark and the temperature drops, that's all.”

“Oh. Okay.” A hopeful look flickered over her face. “You know what? I think I saw a safety kit in Jenna's trunk when she took her suitcase out the other day. It might have something useful in it.”

Shane laughed. “Like maybe a snowmobile?”

Bellamy crossed her arms over her chest, but the laugh she was trying to press between her lips was obvious. “Well, there might be an extra smartass in there. Just in case I need a matched set.”

Okay, he had to give her credit. That was pretty good. “All right. I have to venture out there to get the blanket from the truck anyway. Give me the keys and I'll check the trunk.”

The indignant look he got in return was just as much of a turn-on as the banter that followed. “I think I'm capable of making it to the side lot to check the trunk for a safety kit, Shane.”

The way her lips kicked up over his name sent a blast of heat right through him. He shouldn't flirt with her. He should. Not. Flirt with her.

Oh, fuck
that
.

He took his coat from the hook by the door and pulled his ski cap low over his brows. The wind could get bitter enough to curl a polar bear's toes in a storm like this, but far be it for him to stand in her way.

“By all means. Ladies first.” His stare offered no quarter, mostly because he wanted to make her squirm, but a tiny part of him just couldn't look away from the sexy fire in her emerald gaze.

She didn't flinch, but the longer he held the eye contact between them, the more her glance softened, as if she were surprised he'd conceded. “Okay, then.” Bellamy sauntered to the side door and slid into the coat she'd abandoned there earlier. She set her cute little knit gloves in place and palmed the key fob to the BMW, squaring her shoulders before opening the side door. The gasp that flew out of her turned into a squeal as soon as she was met by the wall of wind and snow four steps past the threshold.

“Oh my
God
! That is so unfair!” She cursed in Shane's direction, hugging her arms around her body to ward off the blast of cold air as she took a few more steps through the relentless snow.

Shane bit back a shudder. Damn, it really was bone-chilling, and he was used to the weather up here. “What's the matter? I thought you were all over this,” he joked. Guilt didn't let him stand there for very long, though. She stopped, and he stepped in close to block her from the stinging wind, letting it force the snow against his back instead.

“I was. I mean, I am,” she said, but her cheeks were already flushed from the biting wind.

Reaching down to catch her gloved hand in his, he slipped the keys from her fingers. “You proved your point, tough stuff. I can get the safety kit.”

Bellamy lifted her eyes up, unwavering. “I'm not going back.” She shivered, but her determination was crystal clear.

He curled the keys back into her palm, returning her gaze with his own surety. “Suit yourself.”

Neither one of them moved, and Shane knew right then and there that he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of her this time.

 

 

Bellamy couldn't tell if it was the frigid temperature around her or the blazing heat coursing through her, but either way, if she stayed where she was, it was going to land her in deep shit.

“I'll just take a quick look in the trunk, then.” She ducked her head and stepped away from Shane's guard, regretting it the second the wind slapped her in the face for her trouble. A furtive glance told her he'd turned to trudge toward his truck in the side lot, so she made quick work of slogging through the shin-high snow to the spot in front of the garage bays where she'd parked Jenna's BMW. She dusted off the lock on the trunk to spring the latch, silently kicking herself.

How could she have been so stupid? she thought as she rummaged past a handful of reusable grocery bags. Her fiery attitude had gotten her stranded out in the middle of nowhere with a sizzling hot car mechanic whose sharp tongue wasn't limited to his snappy wit.

Good Lord, maybe a quick stint in the arctic wind was a good idea after all. How the hell else was she going to cool off?

“Find anything?” Shane called from over her shoulder, blanket in hand.

Bellamy brushed off her overactive imagination to zero in on the plastic crate in the trunk. She yanked it from the car, balancing it on her hip as she replaced the trunk lid. “I'm not sure what's in it, but I'm not going to stand out here to find out.” She hustled back to the side door of the garage, noticing the thick layer of snowflakes clinging to Shane's dark ski cap. It had only taken five minutes, and they were both covered in a glittering crust of ice and cold.

“Here,” Shane said, gesturing as he removed his coat to shake the snow from it. “You're pretty much soaked. We can put this stuff over by the heat vents to dry.” He reached for her coat and gloves as she took them off, throwing them over his arm with his own.

Bellamy scooped up the blanket and the crate, bringing both over to the workbench. She placed the crate in front of her and started rifling through the contents. “Oh, thank God. There are a couple of those heat packet thingies in here. You know, the ones you use to warm your hands. Brilliant.” After rummaging past two bottles of water and a set of flares, Bellamy struck gold. “Granola bars never looked so good.” And the fact that there was a whole box of them made her feel like she'd won the oatmeal raisin lotto.

“Excellent.” Shane nudged a fresh cup of coffee into her hands before looking over her shoulder from behind. He was barely a step away, and she let out an involuntary shiver.

“You're freezing,” he said, so close she could smell the warm, woodsy scent of his skin.

Bellamy was far, far from cold.

“I, uh . . . well, it's kind of snowing.” Great. Because that little mouthful of obvious didn't make her sound ridiculous at all.

Bellamy squeezed her eyes shut. Come on. They were both grown-ups, here. She could handle close quarters with a member of the opposite sex without it becoming . . .

Shane stepped in to reach over her head for the box of sugar packets on the shelf, inadvertently brushing against her. They both froze for a second, his chest a tight fit against her back, and every rational thought Bellamy had been fighting for was lost in a sea of
oh, so good
.

“You're trembling.” There was the barest hint of hesitation before he swept her hair over one shoulder, the rough calluses around his fingers a sharp contrast to the heated skin of her neck.

“I'm sorry,” she blurted.

He chuckled, a low rumble that Bellamy felt vibrating under her skin, and his warm breath fanned out over her neck. “No apologies, remember?”

Bellamy answered in a rushing sigh as he wrapped a lean arm around her rib cage, muscles flexing against her with hot suggestion. “Okay. I'm not sorry.” Leave it to her to botch being seduced. Oh, God, the heat of him, so unyielding against her, was distracting as hell. She felt him smile into the spot where her neck sloped into the soft knit of her sweater, his lips parting over the skin there in the barest of kisses.

“You are very beautiful when you're flustered. Did you know that?” Shane held her fast, sliding his mouth over her neck in a silken trail that threatened to knock her knees out from under her.

“I'm not flustered,” she protested in a voice so velvety, she wasn't convinced it belonged to her.

“Mmm.” The kisses teased behind her ear before returning back down her neck, each one shattering her resolve further. “Do you want to be?”

With that, Bellamy loosened her grip on the workbench in front of her and kicked any illusions of holding back to the curb. She swung around, and Shane met the hollow of her throat with a groan.

“Bellamy,” he whispered into her skin before lifting his face to hers. She wrapped her arms around his taut shoulders as he parted her lips with a deep kiss that marked every inch of her. Just when she thought she would explode from the intensity of it, Shane pulled back, creating just enough space between them to be excruciating.

“This is still a bad idea,” he murmured with a wicked grin, tracing her neck with two fingers all the way down to the top of her chest before stopping to trace a lazy circle over her heart.

Oh, two could play at that game. Her mouth curved into a flirty smile. “Hideous,” she agreed, running the tip of her tongue in a delicate swirl over his earlobe. Bellamy wasn't about to be one-upped, no matter how hot he made her.

And he made her hot enough to know that the standing O she was bound to experience if he kept it up had nothing to do with the theater.

She worked her way from his ear across the line of his jaw, trailing little, feathery kisses back to his mouth. The friction of his stubbled chin against her lips was almost enough to blow her dwindling composure.