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I’m temporarily stunned by her breathtaking body before my eyes zero in on the rifle propped on her shoulder.
“You tried to shoot me!” I say indignantly.
“You passed at least six ‘No Trespassing’ signs along my driveway, including one on the gate that specifically says, ‘Trespassers will be shot on sight.’”
“I didn’t see any signs,” I argue. “In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s pitch black and snowing.”
She scoffs. “What about the locked gate? Did you miss that, too?”
“What gate?” I give her my thousand-watt smile that few can resist. It’s earned me a ton of money in athlete endorsements. I’ve even shot one or two toothpaste commercials.
She doesn’t return my smile. Instead, she points the gun at my face. “It’s not a good idea to test my patience. Even a bad shot can’t miss at close range.”
“Whoa!” I raise my hands defensively. “Slow your roll, Annie Oakley.”
“Winnie McAllister.” She keeps the gun leveled on my face. “And you are?”
“Jax Whalen,” I mutter.
“What the hell are you doing on my property, Jax Whalen?”
“Could you lower the gun, please? I didn’t mean any harm, I swear. I’ll head back to my car right now. You’ll never see me again.”
She sighs, and—to my immense relief—lowers the rifle. “You can’t drive down the mountain in a blizzard. You’ll have to stay here for the night. But I swear to God, if you try anything, I won’t even have to shoot you. Woof will take care of matters for me.”
“Woof?” I ask, rising to my feet.
She whistles, and a big dog appears out of the darkness. He sits on his haunches at Winnie’s feet as if waiting for a command.
“Woof is a retired K9 unit,” Winnie explains. “He lives a cushy life now, but he hasn’t forgotten his training. Try anything, and he’ll rip your balls off before you can blink. Isn’t that right, Woof?”
The dog barks in response, showcasing a mouth full of sharp teeth.
I instinctively cover my crotch with my hand. “Thanks for the offer, but I can just sleep in my car.”
She shakes her head. “It’s not safe. The snow could clog your exhaust pipe. You’d die of carbon monoxide poisoning in your sleep.”
I’m tempted to tell her I’ll take my chances. Dying in my sleep sounds far better than being shot or mutilated by her dog.
“Come on,” she says, turning to walk toward the house. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”
Chapter 3
Winnie
When I let Woof out to use the bathroom, I’d just thrown on boots and grabbed my rifle in case some coyotes needed to be scared away. Woof is the best guard dog there is, but he doesn’t have the sense to leave the coyotes alone. I had not expected to see a gigantic man sprinting toward my house, making me stay out in the snow far longer than it would have taken Woof to relieve himself.
So, I’m shivering uncontrollably as I lead Jax Whalen to my house. Jax freakin’ Whalen! Despite the risk of hypothermia, my cheeks burn with heat. Jax has starred in my fantasies for years. But in all my fantasies—even my most creative ones—I was never half-naked in the snow, threatening him with a rifle. And I definitely wasn’t wearing a threadbare University of Denver t-shirt and cheap, ten-to-a-pack cotton panties from Walmart.
Inside the house, I hesitate for a moment, unsure what I should do. I want to immediately dash to the bedroom and put on some clothes. But what good would that do? Jax has already seen me in my underwear. Plus, I’ve ruined any chance of fulfilling my Jax-related fantasies by firing a shot at him. There’s no way to salvage the situation. So, I, Winnie McAllister, will do what I do best: fake it till I make it.
I place the rifle next to the door and stride to the kitchen counter to put on the pot of coffee I’d promised, pretending I’m completely unconcerned about what he thinks of me. Unfortunately, the cabin has an open floor plan. I usually love that, but I could use some distance between myself and Jax to clear my head.
As I scoop the coffee, my body begins to adjust to the temperature inside the house. It’s easier to think now that I’m not a half-frozen popsicle. I pull a couple of mugs out of the cabinet and turn to ask Jax how he takes his coffee.
I freeze when I see that he’s staring at me slack-jawed. His eyes zero in on my breasts, and I glance down, realizing that not only am I not wearing a bra, but that my nipples are hard as pebbles from being outside in the cold. The wet snow has made my white t-shirt transparent, putting the girls on full display for Jax to see.
To his credit, he quickly averts his gaze, and his eyes lock onto mine. Heat surges through my body, flooding me with such a sense of need that I can’t help but bite my lower lip. He notices, and his gaze drifts to my mouth.
