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She sighed. “Okay.” She blotted her shoulders and snagged the lotion from her shelf in the bathroom. “Get my back for me?”
It had become a routine for them. The burns had faded to a faint scarring that she’d wear for the rest of her life. The skin itself was prone to absolute dryness that made her insane if she didn’t keep it moisturized.
She dropped her chin to her chest as he coated her skin then rubbed it in with the most amazing long strokes. His large hands so thorough and amazing at the same time. When he dropped a kiss on the nape of her neck, she peered up at him from under her lashes.
“Hi.”
“God, you’re beautiful.”
She turned around and slipped her arms up around his shoulders. “You’re not so bad yourself.” In his eyes, she knew he meant it. And she slowly stopped noticing the two tones of her hands and the rough feathery skin of her shoulders.
He made sure she never felt like a freak.
He reminded her that they were both alive.
And the baggage might be extensive, but at least she had someone to carry it with. It was far more than she’d ever thought she’d have.
She rose onto her toes and kissed his full lips. “I say we get steaks and baked potatoes and I’ll bake something decadent for dessert. You know, so you have all the strength for shoveling.”
He groaned. “I didn’t even shovel when I was a kid.”
“That’s because you were too dreamy to do something so humble.”
“Damn right.”
She laughed. “All right, let me get dressed.”
He inched her towel up in the back until that big palm could get a hold of her ass.
“That is not getting me dressed.”
“No, but it is the cutest little ass.”
She wiggled out of his arms. “Groceries. Then you do whatever you want to my ass later tonight.” She threw a smile over her shoulder on her way out.
“That wasn’t nice,” he called after her.
No, but it sure had been fun to say.
Twenty-Nine
Logan curled his fingers around the steering wheel. It had taken far longer to get into town and through the market and back up the mountain. The snow was already thick on the roads and his ice-caked windshield wipers were smearing away most of his visibility.
Within the next hour, the roads would be impassable.
As much as he loved being with Izzy, he didn’t like the option not to leave. Not with the storm coming on so hard and fast. The last one had been smaller—more of a sleeting ice storm.
This would lock them in.
And he really didn’t like having no way to contact Marcus. Their out-of-the-way cabin had been working for months, and there was no reason to change anything. As far as the world knew, he and Isabella were convalescing in his house in Hawaii.
He didn’t have a damn house in Hawaii, but it was a good cover story. There were a hundred islands there, making it almost impossible for anyone to find them. With the wind whipping his SUV all over the road, he wished for a few Hawaiian tropical breezes about now.
Isabella stomped on her side of the floorboard for the fourth time. Her fingers were vised around the Holy Shit handle.
“Babe, you do not have a brake pedal over there.”
