Claustrophobic Christmas (7 page)

“No.” Darcy was beginning to suspect why he didn’t want to remain here with their bodies mashed together. Impolite things seemed to be occurring below their waists.

“Darcy, I…” His breath sent shivers through her that were a lot more pleasant than the ones caused by the weather. God, he felt even better than she’d dreamed.

“What?” Mesmerized, she widened her fingers on his chest. His body didn’t have a lot of give. Hoo boy. She recognized his growing arousal—and hers.

“My truck’s bigger than your car.”

“And?”

He held himself a little stiffly, no pun intended. “You might not feel as closed in there. It’s got big windows and a taller roof.”

“You want to take me to your truck?”

“It’s not a come-on.” His body belied his words. Sometimes bodies don’t heed the tips sent by one’s brain. “When the traffic breaks, we’ll know it sooner. It’s not far.”

Darcy was tempted. If they weren’t in motion, it shouldn’t bother her to be in someone else’s vehicle. She could open the door and get out anytime she wanted. It wasn’t a trap.

“I have extra gas in the truck bed,” he continued, but he made no move to separate their increasingly frank embrace.

She adjusted her posture until his thigh slipped between her legs. It was discreet, with absolutely no humping or rubbing or grinding. But she could feel his hard cock against her hip as he tilted into her, pressing, pressing.

His fingers dug into her back, just a little. His heart thudded beneath her fingers and cheek like he was the one having the panic attack.

He was thinking about it. She was thinking about it. Six months of thinking about it but never talking about it had brought them to this point. Darcy closed her eyes.

“Could we run the heater?” she asked.

“Whatever you want.” She thought she heard him swallow. “I have blankets. Cards. MP3 player. Iced tea. You can bring the jelly beans.”

She wondered which reason was the main one. Was it as stupid as hers? Because she was imagining them naked. If his truck had bench seats, he could push her into the leather like he was pushing her into her car, only his hips would be right there… Or his mouth. Darcy closed her eyes and thought of his cock, thought of hard candy, and him sucking and licking.

Tip for female travelers—don’t let vacation exhilaration tempt you into a one night stand. If he likes you, he’ll call you after the sunburn fades.

“It’s not far,” he repeated. His hand was so big it nearly spanned her back.

She’d turned him down yesterday. Today she’d confessed her big secret. He knew the truth now. Surely he could put two and two together and understand what her claustrophobia meant about her? About them?

No hot trips to the Bahamas, that was for sure. Was he okay with that? Was he okay with her?

Dammit! Darcy couldn’t bear to end this, but she couldn’t bear to commit to something that had disaster written all over it. It could be a dumb move. Because lingering in several inches of snow and ice was so smart. Clearly the sub-freezing temperatures had sapped her common sense. Her feet ached so much it felt like a vice had tightened on them.

It could be dumb. But it could be a risk that seriously paid off. She’d liked him already, and adding his colossal sexiness to that mix was nigh irresistible.

His fingers found the gap between her waistband and her shirt. He brushed her bare skin, and she nearly went up in flames.

“It’s cold, Darcy.”

“I’m good,” she managed. His icy touch sizzled through her, and she wanted nothing more than for him to grab her ass and shove himself inside her.

Okay, she wanted one thing more. For him to do that in private.

“You could get frostbite if we stand here much longer.” He pushed away from her and opened her door. “Get in or come with me.”

“If I want to live?” she quipped.

His chin lowered. “Now.”

Would he toss her over his shoulder if she refused? That sounded positively…exciting. But they had an audience, and he was right. It was too damned cold. “I’ll get the candy.”

Accepting an invitation to his place after what was essentially a first date. This wasn’t a tip she’d give anyone, anytime, whether traveling or at home.

But his place was bigger.

Chapter Six

Darcy was going to drive him insane. Her soft body and her smart mouth and her funny little ways. This claustrophobia thing, James didn’t know what to make of it, but it sure as hell didn’t stop him from thinking about her. Worrying about her. Hypothermia wasn’t a damn joke. He’d been about five seconds from stuffing her bodily back into her vehicle.

Considering he’d been two second from ripping off that hideous sweat suit and fucking her against her car, her capitulation had come just in time. It was like she wanted to torture him.

Now he was leading her to his truck, her babbling nonstop, and all he could think about was whether this meant her no had changed to a yes. She had to recognize what was on his mind. He’d had an obvious hard-on, and she’d been fondling his pecs.

If it was still a no, well, he wouldn’t press the issue.

Tonight.

He and Darcy weren’t the only ones migrating between vehicles. Three minutes into their snowy trek, they ran into an impromptu party in the lee of a Winnebago. A couple of guys had produced a charcoal grill and were cooking hotdogs. More folks had thrown open their stashes of holiday goodies, and the guy who’d said he was from Tarnington had contributed his bread and milk to the buffet.

As they watched, two women headed off the interstate toward some small, scrubby trees, clutching each other’s arms as they minced through the snow. He felt sorry for them. Hell of a night to have to squat to pee.

A man with a harried expression was knocking on windows down the row. “Anybody got any baby formula?”

“A couple cars down, there’s a red SUV with a family that has a baby,” James told him. “They seem like nice folks. You could try them.”

“Hi, everybody,” Darcy piped up. “Isn’t this crazy weather?” She started chatting with guy from Tarnington like she wanted to visit a while, but James had no intention of dawdling. Her coat wasn’t warm enough, and he didn’t think it would be appropriate in mixed company for him to tuck her inside his parka again.

Though Darcy had talked incessantly since she’d decided to cooperate, she hadn’t mentioned their big, horny bear hug. Neither had he. Not a single leading comment from either of them. He had no idea if she was envisioning nudity and hot times in their near future. What was she going to do, grab his ass and ask if he had condoms in his truck?

He did.

Remembering the condoms made James impatient. Nobody had any news about the weather beyond the fact the snow was expected to continue through the night. Nobody had any news at all about the traffic jam.

“Let’s go, Darce,” he whispered. “You’re not dressed for this weather.”

“Be safe, everybody,” she called as he tugged her away from the group. “Happy holidays.”

He guided her between the cars, where the snow was the shallowest and most tramped down. It was slippery. Darcy kept stumbling, which gave him a good excuse to hold onto her.

“I feel like somebody sewed Frankenstein feet on my legs,” she complained. Enough cars had left their headlights on that it wasn’t hard to see. “They don’t work right.”

“You need boots.” James supported her when she slipped again. She clutched her jelly beans like they’d cushion her fall. He clutched her. “You don’t rent boots, do you?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I own boots, silly man. I didn’t think I’d need them.”

They reached his truck. He helped her inside, glad he’d had it detailed before he’d gone to Dallas. Her car had been clean as a whistle, give or take a jelly bean or two. “Big enough?”

“It’s surprisingly roomy.” She slid across the bench seat, rubbing the leather, and put her purse and jelly beans between them. “High ceiling. Wide windows. It has a back seat, and you can pack your luggage in that box in the truck bed. No clutter.”

“You bet. I’m six-two, Darce. I gotta be able to sleep in here if it comes to it.” He’d roughed it on numerous occasions, though more and more he wanted to go to a hotel and kick back—check and see if Darcy was online—instead of working eighteen hours a day. “It pays to have an extended cab.”

“I like it. I should trade my sedan in for one of these.” She bounced a little. “Comfy too.”

After he removed his gloves, James double-checked the emergency brake and cranked on the motor and heater. The vents gusted out frosty air. Darcy shivered.

“You want to crack a window?” he asked. If it kept her from spazzing, he’d set the heat on max or find some other way to keep them warm.

She shook herself like his question brought her back to earth. “A couple inches, if that’s okay.”

He dropped the glass about an inch. He eyed her to see if that was enough, and she didn’t say anything. Good. He wanted to let the heat build enough for them to take off their clothes.

Dammit, he had to ease into that. And it might be smart to get her to make the first move. Women were more likely to be all smiles the next day when they thought the sex had been their idea, and he wanted Darcy to feel really smiley about him tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that.

It would pretty much be his best Christmas ever if he could hook up with Darcy.

The object of his desire leaned against the glass and hummed. The amber glow of the dash dials lit her pretty face like candles. When she tilted her head, it turned her lenses orange. James propped an arm on the back of the seat.

“Have you always been claustrophobic?” he asked.

She licked her lips. “I’m not nuts, you know.”

“Honey, I didn’t say you were.” If she was sensitive about it, it might not be a safe topic. She’d seemed unhappy about telling him. But everything about her was so intriguing, he wanted more information. Was it hard for her? Was there anything he needed to do to help? “One of my best friends is claustrophobic.”

“Really? Who?”

He meant her, so he just grinned. Hell, he’d told her about the time he’d nearly gotten himself killed hang gliding. It wasn’t comparable to claustrophobia, but his fixation on getting the perfect shot had been known to land his ass in hot water. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“We can talk about it. You deserve the truth after I nearly froze you.” She stuck her hands up her jacket sleeves, hugging herself. James tilted one of his vents toward her. It was just beginning to blow warm. “I never liked small spaces, but I had an MRI in my twenties that seemed to trigger it.”

“I haven’t had an MRI. Nita did once. Said it was awful.”

“Oh, it is.” She shuddered. “Anyway, the claustrophobia’s not severe as long as I control my environment. I can avoid most situations that give me the creeps.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, you know.” She avoided eye contact. “MRIs. Elevators.”

He got the impression she was hiding something important but didn’t want to bully her. “What else do you do for it?”

“Take the stairs.” She grinned, but it didn’t seem like a cheerful grin. “I don’t go spelunking, either.”

He couldn’t recall her writing up any caves as vacation destinations, but he’d only been reading her newsletter six months. “Miriam and Alex won’t be visiting Carlsbad, huh?”

She huffed out a breath and started jiggling her foot. “Definitely not.”

“It’s making you uncomfortable to tell me about this,” he guessed. There’d been no reason for her to share this when their relationship was long-distance, and he wondered if it had anything to do with her refusal to let him chauffer her to Tallwood. “You keep it to yourself, don’t you?”

She nodded. “I consider it private.”

“Then I’ll keep it to myself as well,” he said. “Does your family know?”

“Most of them.” She cleared her throat. “I’m not ignoring it. I see a therapist, I do yoga, and I have anti-anxiety meds for acute attacks.”

Jumping out of the car into a blizzard seemed acute to James. “Do you need a pill? I can get them from your car if you want.” Stupid, she probably kept them in her purse.

“Come on, James. Friends don’t let friends drive while medicated,” she said with a smile.

“You’re not driving right now.” The fact she’d referred to them as friends was a positive sign. He’d worried after she’d turned him down that they’d never speak to each other again. Once the romance topic got broached, it was hard to pretend it hadn’t. Plus he’d needed time to sulk. “Speaking of driving, what about cars, Darce?”

She pursed her lips. “What about them?”

He just looked at her.

“I make a lot of pit stops.” Her jaw tightened and she poked her glasses up her nose. “I don’t travel with other people much.”

“I get that now.” So the claustrophobia thing was part of the reason she hadn’t said yes to him. Too bad—she could have told him. He wouldn’t have minded prolonging their trip to see a lot of sights and more of Darcy. “If someone’s a friend, he’ll understand. He’ll work with you.”

“I guess.” She pointed behind them. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“No harm, no foul.” He unzipped his parka and caught her staring at his chest when he slid the parka off his arms. Wasn’t she warm enough to take off her coat? He tilted the rest of the vents toward her. “You weren’t harmed, were you?”

“My feet would hurt if I could feel them. I need to take my shoes off. Is that okay? I promise I took a bath this morning.”

“Shit, I forgot about your wet shoes.” James grabbed her legs and swung them onto the bench. She had on these white canvas things better suited to summer than winter.

“I don’t want to get your leather dirty.” She fumbled at knots still crusted with ice and snow.

“This is hardly what I call dirt.” He nudged her clumsy fingers aside and yanked the laces. She kept interfering, trying to do it herself, and he stilled her hands with his. “I got this. Your hands are too cold.”

She didn’t listen, of course. In spite of her help, he managed to get the sneakers off with a wet splorch.

Darcy uttered a long hiss, wiggling her toes. “That smarts.”

“Your socks are soaked.” He stretched into the back of the cab, clanked around, and came up with a lap blanket. “How about your pants?”