She looked up at him as the snow fell softly around them. “Let’s go back to your place,” she said, realizing as she did that there was no place in the world she’d rather be.
15
Max
Banff, Canada
December 15
Max hadn’t slept a wink. But at least this third pot of coffee was helping to clear some of the fogginess away. The sleepless night also meant he’d finished another dog sweater, this one joining a dozen others going to the rescue where he’d adopted Patsy. Max may have been struggling with his music at the cabin, but he’d been prolific with his knitting—every closet was full of projects, in various stages of completion.
He glanced at the closed guest bedroom door, behind which Sadie slept. She was plumb tuckered out, between the tour and the flight to Banff, and he wanted to let her sleep as long as possible. She would likely have a rough morning regardless, after all that whiskey.
That got him thinking about the bar, their karaoke singing...that kiss. Max could still feel the softness and warmthof her lips, which had been a welcomed contrast to the chilly temperatures last night. He could still smell the heady vanilla scent swirling around them, the taste of spicy cinnamon on her lips, the feel of his heart racing like a herd of wild horses.
A pained groan escaped from the guest room. Max rapped his knuckles softly against the door. “Sadie? You up?”
There was no answer, and he pressed an ear to the door. Hearing nothing still, he knocked again, a touch louder. Another low groan in response.
“There’s coffee,” he said.
“Okay, thanks,” Sadie mumbled. He heard the sound of items shifting on the nightstand, then a loudthudfollowed by some cursing.
“All good?”
“Yeah, all good,” she strangled out. Max knew from personal experience that Fireball hangovers weretheworst.
A few minutes later Sadie emerged from the guest room, and Max handed her a glass of water and two ibuprofens, for which she seemed grateful. Then he filled a mug—the saying “Country Music: Cheaper Than Therapy” on its side—with coffee. “You take it black, right?”
“Thanks. I really needed this.” She took a sip, but then cringed as she put her hand on her forehead. She looked green around her mouth, the dark circles under her eyes even more prominent today. “My memory is spotty, and what Icanremember, well, I hope it isn’t true?”
Max’s stomach flipped. Was she regretting the kiss?Well, of course she is, you ding-dong,he thought. Sadie Hunter needed Max, but not in that way. She had drunk too much—he couldn’t read into anything about last night.
But then she said, “Did I get sick? Outside the cabin?” She looked mortified. “Oh God, I did. Didn’t I?”
He was relieved. So, it wasn’t about the kiss after all. “Don’t you worry about that.”
Sadie put her coffee down and covered her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing.” Then she looked at Max, her blue eyes holding his dark ones. “Did anything else happen?”
Max paused, remembering the feel of their bodies pressed together, full of desire, white-hot even through their layers of winter clothing. Things could have gone differently when they’d returned to Max’s cabin, but he would never take advantage of a situation like that.
“Joe gave us a lift back on his snowmobile, and then you wisely got rid of a few of those Fireballs into the snowbank. Don’t worry, I held your hair back,” Max said, chuckling slightly at the look of horror on her face. “Then I gave you a big glass of water and got you to bed.”
“I appreciate you getting me back here in one piece.” Sadie rubbed her temples and looked around the cabin’s living room. He tried to see it through her eyes. It was rustic but plenty comfortable, with warm touches, like woven tapestries on the walls and a large stone fireplace. The fire Max had started crackled and cast a bright orange glow into the space.
“It’s so cozy. The perfect spot to recover from too many Fireballs.” She gave him a weak smile. “Thanks again for taking care of me, Max.”
“You’re welcome,” Max replied. “My pleasure.”
She snorted. “I highly doubt that.”
He smiled, then handed her a fluffy white bath towel. “A hot shower will make everything better.”
After he heard the water go on, Max stoked the fire and tried to avoid thinking of Sadie in the shower. Instead, he thought about how he’d carried her into the cabin and tucked her into bed. He liked taking care of her. Max wasn’t sure about a lot right now, but that much he was certain about.
An hour later they sat on the couch in the living room, the fire raging and keeping the cabin toasty. The snow came down steadily as they listened to John Denver’sRocky Mountain Christmasalbum and drank hot cocoa. Sadie was dressed head to toe in red-plaid fleece loungewear, which had been his sister’s and fit her well, if not a touch long in the arms and legs. Her cheeks were still rosy from when they’d taken Patsy out on a short walk about twenty minutes earlier.
“Hope the cocoa’s not too hot,” Max said, joining her on the couch with his own mug, marshmallows bobbing on its surface. He patted the cushion between them for Patsy. “Come on, girl. Up.”
