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“That’s not slang.”
“It sure as hell is,” he stuttered.
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you challenging me? The dictionary is right there on the shelf.”
He stared at her intently for long seconds, daring her to back down. She just smiled.
Muttering under his breath, he retrieved the oversized dictionary and started flipping pages.
She got up and leaned over his shoulder. “It should be the third one down,” she said helpfully.
He made it to the TIs and started running his finger down the page, his brow creased in concentration. She wondered if he even noticed that her breast was pressing his shoulder.
He made a little sound and she grinned to herself. “Why don’t you read it out loud, Grant?” She licked his ear.
He jerked and cursed, nearly dropping the dictionary. He read the words slowly, incredulity in his voice. “A small worn-out horse, a nag.”
She bit his earlobe. “Never play Scrabble with a writer,” she whispered. “I’m sure you have many other talents.”
He moved so fast, she didn’t have time to react. He got to his feet, backing her toward the wall. It was a blatant attempt to use his physical size to intimidate her, and she should have been indignant. Instead, she felt a burgeoning excitement. His face was calm, but his eyes twinkled.
She swallowed. “You can’t bully me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that what I’m doing?”
One more step, and her shoulder blades met resistance. She flattened her spine against the wall, her breathing jerky. “Sore losers are pathetic.”
He cupped her butt and lifted her off the ground. Instinctively, her hands grabbed for his shoulders. Her legs wrapped around his waist. Their groans mingled as their bodies strained toward each other.
He leaned his forehead against hers, his hands kneading her ass. “I think you cheated. I demand a rematch.”
She wiggled, close to begging. His erection tormented her even through layers of cloth. And judging by the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to breathe, Grant was interested in playing a much more intimate game than Scrabble.
“I don’t like waiting,” she whispered, her voice agitated. In her books the characters always did exactly what she told them. At least most of the time. Grant’s obstinacy, especially in the face of his undeniable arousal, frustrated her. And she hated being frustrated.
He heaved a sigh and released her, letting her legs slide to the ground. “Have you ever had sex with a man you’ve known less than twenty-four hours?”
His blunt question made her wince. It was hard to carpe diem when the man in question was determined to be reasonable. “No,” she muttered.
His smile was strained. “I am absolutely committed to being the man you spend Christmas with, but I don’t want to be the guy you regret the morning after.”
She could see the struggle on his face, the determination to make sure she knew her own mind . . . And in that instant, she fell a little bit in love with him.
* * *
They went their separate ways after lunch, Maddy to her writing, and Grant to try and dig out his Jeep. He breathed in the bitter cold air, and wished the weather had the power to affect his dick. He wondered how long a man could have an erection before his cock exploded.
Maddy was an almost irresistible temptation, but he meant what he said to her. She might not realize it yet, but he had every intention of exploring a relationship with her beyond this cabin. Previously nebulous thoughts and dreams were beginning to solidify. Family. Permanence. Home.
He looked at Maddy and saw a world of possibilities.
He used his hands and a small piece of plywood to scrape the thick snow from the vehicle. The cabin boasted neither a garage nor a carport, an omission he was rethinking. Of course, since he mostly used the cabin in the summertime, the issue had never really been critical.
He started the engine and let it run for a few minutes. What if Maddy had required real medical attention? What if he had needed to get her down the mountain? The narrow gravel road he had negotiated with ease two days ago was invisible, no sign of its boundaries remaining. Even if he could have forced the Jeep through the deep snow, he would likely have run off the road and gotten stuck. Thank God it hadn’t come to that.
When he was satisfied that the battery and gas line were operational, he turned the engine off, and wondered what he could do next—other than returning to the house. That wasn’t an option.
If he had to stay outside until his balls froze, he would do it. He picked up an ax and headed into the woods.
