Wicked Wonderland (3 page)

“Isn’t it pretty?”

“Whatever.” Jesse knew he played the role of the broody badass very well and decided that would be the easiest way to keep her at arm’s length. Given his disheveled appearance, he thought he could pull it off without a hitch.With that in mind, he put his best scowl in place and was trying to think of something surly to say when she opened her mouth and captured a snowflake on the tip of her tongue. Jesse watched, mesmerized, and with a groan melted right along with it.

“Oh, I knew it!” Her smile immediately faded and her green eyes widened. “Put me down!”

“What?” Jeez, could she read his mind? “Hey! Hold on!” When she tried to wiggle her way out of his grasp, Jesse staggered backward and luckily landed against his truck or he would have fallen, taking her right along with him. “What are you doing?” Maybe she was high maintenance after all. Or crazy. It wouldn’t be the first time he had been dead wrong about a woman.

“I should have known better!” she cried, and pushed against his chest.As she managed to dislodge one of her endless legs, she flipped one of her silly shoes up in the air. She yelped when her toes sank into the snow. Her package dangled from her other hand, and her purse slipped to the ground with a thump.

“Would you just stop it?”

Her answer was to wiggle harder. “No, I’m going to give you a . . . a hernia or something.”

“What?”

“I’m too heavy.”

“Why would you say that?”

“You grunted!”

“Grunted?”

“Yes!”

He looked at her in question.
Oh . . . the groan.
“No, I didn’t.” Jesse slipped his hand beneath her leg to lift her freezing foot out of the snow.

“You didn’t?”

When she squirmed to look at him more closely, Jesse shifted his feet and hit a slick spot. “Whoa!” They both almost went down, and he had to scoot his hand upward to balance her weight.

“See!”

Jesse shook his head slowly.“It’s because you’re squirming.” He had somehow managed to get his hand beneath her skirt fairly close to her ass, and even though she didn’t seem to notice, he sure as hell did. “For the record, I didn’t grunt.”

“But I heard you.”

Jesse sighed. “What’s your name?” he asked softly.

“Claire Collins.”

“Well, Claire Collins, I could carry you for miles without grunting even once.”

“You could?”

“Okay, now you’re hurting my ego.”

“I’m very sorry,” she said so sincerely that she nearly made him laugh.“It’s just that I’m a big girl,” she added, and lowered her lashes.

Big girl?
Jesse felt a flash of anger at the society that made curvy women feel unattractive. Claire was drop-dead gorgeous and didn’t seem to realize it. His feelings must have shown on his face because her eyes widened and she put one hand on his cheek. It was a sweet, simple gesture but touched him in places that hadn’t felt emotion in a long time. If the truck hadn’t been behind him he might have staggered again.

“Really, Jesse, I didn’t mean to insult you,” she insisted, mistaking his reason for scowling. “It’s just that most men would have struggled dealing with my weight.”

Jesse got the impression that she meant it in more ways than one. “I’m not most men.” He wanted to say more but didn’t.

“I get that.
Most
men wouldn’t open their home to a complete stranger.”

“And I need to get you there. It’s freezing.”

“Right . . . ,” she said with a smile, but then her eyes rounded. “Hey, your hand is on my . . .
butt
.” When the word “butt” came out a high-pitched whisper, Jesse had to suppress another grin. He wasn’t a grinning kind of guy. What was she doing to him?

“It wasn’t intentional. I swear.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“And you’re wearing a lacy little bit of nothing. Ah, my own little Christmas miracle,” Jesse surprised himself by saying, and smiled up at the sky.

By rights Claire could have been angry at his comment, but instead she tilted her chin up and laughed, causing the hood to slip from her head. A gust of wind blew her long hair forward, brushing against Jesse’s cheeks and bringing the light floral scent of perfume his way. The warmth of their breath mingled, then frosted as snowflakes danced all around them.

And their eyes met. Held.

Jesse didn’t think he had a romantic bone in his body, but time suddenly seemed suspended and in all of his thirty-five years he had never longed to kiss a woman more than at that particular moment. But a sudden blast of arctic air brought him back to the reality of her situation. “We need to get you inside out of the cold.” He meant for his voice to be all business, but what came out of his mouth sounded low with some swagger. “I warmed it up for you,” he added, and then nearly groaned. “You know, the truck.” Why was everything he said sounding like a cheap pickup line?

“Thanks,” she answered politely, as if one of his hands weren’t cupping her nearly bare bottom and they hadn’t just almost kissed. Luckily they were on the passenger side of his truck, so Jesse eased away from the fender, turned, and opened the door. Claire slid into the heated leather seat with a little moan.

“Better?” Jesse asked as he handed her purse to her.

“Much!”

“Good,” he said, but then spotted her bare foot, which was glowing pink from the exposure. It bothered him way more than it should have that she was uncomfortable, and after closing her door, he retrieved his gym bag from the back cab and located some clean socks. After turning around, he spotted her delicate red shoe lying in sharp contrast with the fluffy white snow. He cocked one eyebrow as he leaned over and scooped it up with one finger. “Women,” he mumbled with a shake of his head. He had to admit, though, that the shoe was pretty damned sexy.

Don’t even go there
, Jesse sternly reminded himself as he walked around to the front of the truck. Claire was depending on him for shelter and safety, and to take advantage of her vulnerable state would be wrong. Luckily his log cabin was big enough that if he put her in the guest wing, she could wait out this storm in complete privacy, and if by some miracle the airport cleared airplanes for takeoff, he could get her home for the holidays and he would be bound for the beach.

After climbing into his truck, Jesse handed Claire the socks. “Here—they’re clean and will keep your feet warm.”

“Thank you.” She accepted them with a shy smile. “Look, I know this is a huge inconvenience for you,” she said as she slipped her other shoe off and tugged on his socks.“I just hope there’s some way I can repay you.”

About a dozen different ways immediately popped into Jesse’s mind, but he kept them to himself. “Can you cook?” he asked as he carefully pulled out onto the main road. Snow was coming down hard.

“Not . . . so much.” Her smile faded. “My mother is an interior designer and my father is a lawyer for a big Atlanta law firm. When Patty, our housekeeper, didn’t cook, we had takeout,” she explained sadly, but then brightened. “But I like the whole
idea
of cooking.” She raised her hands in expression. “And I watch the Food Network. I’d be happy to assist you. I’ll just need some supervision.”

“Close supervision?” He meant it as a joke, but a sudden vision of them preparing a meal together seemed intimate and sensual. When Jesse glanced her way, she wrinkled her cute nose at him.

“Um,
yeah
.” She smiled, but the slight tremble let him know that she was still nervous, and who could blame her?

“Well, I like to cook, so you’re in luck. But, hey,” he said in his best reassuring tone, and his earlier thoughts of intimidating her flew out the window.“I know I have dark circles under my eyes, I’m unshaven, and my hair is a mess, but I’m a decent guy and won’t let any harm come to you. My cabin is clean and warm and I just got finished grocery shopping with all of the other crazy people fighting for the last loaf of bread.” He shook his head and then chuckled. “I got caught up in the moment and bought stuff I normally don’t even look at, but I felt compelled to fill my cart.You’d think we were going to be snowed in for the winter instead of for a few days.”

“A few days?” Her face fell.

Jesse could have bitten his tongue. “At least, I’m afraid.”

She looked down at her folded hands. “I’m not getting home for Christmas, am I?”

“Possibly.” Jesse slowed down to turn onto the road leading up to his home and then looked over at her.“But, Claire, I’ll be honest. It’s not likely.”

“If I didn’t have this stupid fear of flying, I’d already be home.”

“So that’s why you were on the train?”

She nodded glumly. “I’ve never been away from my family on Christmas Day.” She brushed at a tear but then swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Believe me, I understand.”

She gave him a trembling smile. “Well, you know what they say?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“When life gives you lemons,” she said, and then lifted her chin, “add vodka.”

“Now you’re talking!” Jesse laughed so hard at her unexpected comment that he lost his concentration and fishtailed on the slick road.

“Whoa!” Claire’s eyes widened, but then she laughed.“That was fun. Do it again!”

“Really?” He shot her a glance to be sure.

“Yes!” she shouted, looking so cute all bundled up in his big coat.

“Hang on, girl!”

“Okay!”

Jesse gave the truck some gas and then jerked the steering wheel, sending them into a donut. While clinging to the armrest, Claire braced her other hand against the ceiling and squealed with delight.When he sent them sliding the opposite direction, she shrieked but then laughed harder, making Jesse laugh right along with her. He hadn’t done anything this spontaneous in a long time and it felt amazing.

When he came to a stop, Claire leaned back against the headrest with her hands to her chest and then turned to him with a smile. “That was crazy fun.”

“Yeah, it was.” She had a warm smile and pretty eyes that drew him in.

“I have a snowmobile, and I could take you on a wild ride if you’re interested.”

“You know what? Why the hell not?” She shot him a grin that made him laugh again . . . something he normally didn’t do this time of year.

“Your attitude keeps getting better and better,” he told her, and then thought with surprise,
So does mine
. This morning he’d been ready to bite the head off anyone who came near him, and now he was laughing. Amazing. At first glance, Claire Collins might appear to have big-city sophistication, to be the type of woman he would never approach . . . and yet he felt drawn to her in more ways than one.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a hairstylist at Sweet Indulgence Salon and Day Spa.”

He glanced her way. “Sounds fancy.”

“It is. I was at a conference in Denver for hair extensions.”

“Okay, what are hair extensions?”

“Human hair that is weaved into your own.It can be very damaging, and this company has a new process that’s state-of-the-art.”

He raised his eyebrows, then pointed to his head. “Wait, someone
else’s
real hair? People really do that?”

“Yep.”

He looked at her beautiful auburn hair with a frown.

“It’s mine,” she assured him with a chuckle.“Wow, it’s really coming down. How can you even see?”

“I know the area like the back of my hand. But the good news is that we’re almost to my cabin.”

She nodded and looked out the window at the tall pine trees dripping with freshly fallen snow. “It’s beautiful here.”

“That it is.” But before long it would be pitch-black . . . much different from in the city. Instead of sirens and honking horns, Claire would be hearing the sounds of nature.

As if reading his mind, Claire turned and said, “I’m thinking I’m in for quite a Christmas adventure.”

Jesse arched one eyebrow in agreement. “Yes, my little Southern city slicker, I believe you’re right.” Just as he pulled into the clearing where his cabin stood, three deer scampered across his front yard.

Claire’s eyes rounded and she put a hand up to her chest and stared out the window. “Oh, look!”

“That’s common. There’s a lake out back. I see deer all the time.” Among other animals that he would warn her about later, but if she was this freaked-out about deer, he had his work cut out for him.

“No . . . I mean,
that’s
your so-called log cabin?” She turned and looked at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“
W
hat do you mean?” Jesse asked as he killed the engine.

“Um, Jesse, this isn’t a log cabin.”

“Well, technically, it’s a log and timber hybrid with stone accents.”

Claire shook her head. “No, I mean, cabins are little.” She made a small square with her fingers. “This is a . . . a lodge.”

Jesse shrugged. “It was my family home and my mother loved to entertain, especially—,” he began, but paused. “Anyway, she wanted plenty of guest rooms. My parents were both artists and designed it from the ground up. It’s more than I need, but I’ll never sell it.”

Claire looked out of the window through the swirling snow. “Wow, it’s magnificent, Jesse. I don’t blame you one bit. With the pine trees and the mountains . . . wow, it looks like a scene inside a snow globe.” She turned to look at him.“So your parents don’t live here anymore?”

A shadow passed over his face as he removed the keys from the ignition. “No.”

Claire wanted to ask more, but he abruptly turned and opened his door. A moment later he was at her side. “Oh . . .” She looked down at her sock feet and winced.

“We’ve established that I can carry you,” he reminded her with a wry smile. “Just link your arms around my neck and hold on, okay?”