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Declan stomped out of the open concept living-slash-dining room, through the kitchen, and into the mudroom and slammed his feet back into snow-covered boots.
Fucking cold.
Why couldn’t Chris hate winter too? Probably because his son was growing up in New York instead of Arizona, where Declan had. He was used to the arctic temperatures.
“Will the naked lady be okay?” Chris asked, coming up behind him—so much forThe Grinch.
“Bud, you have to stop calling her that.”
“But she makes that face and her eye twitches when I say it. It’s so funny.”
“Bud.”
His six-year-old chuckled, and Declan stomped out the door and into the blizzard to help the lunatic who was turning his calm week into a giant headache. A gust of wind burst across the night, sending snow straight into his face.
White Christmas is magic.Who the hell said that? Because this cold, wet shit sucked; nothing magical about it. There were waist-high mounds of snow piled on either side of the driveway from past storms, so Declan had no choice but to trudge along the icy concrete, sliding like an asshole the entire way. But he had to get to the top to check on Natalie.
His foot skidded, and he teetered. Instinctively, his arms shot out, and he jerked himself forward as he got his footing. One more step, and he skidded again. He was a professionally trained athlete at the top of his game, but put him on ice, and he was a baby deer that couldn’t keep his legs under him. He looked like a freaking idiot. From over his shoulder, he spotted Chris standing in the front window, laughing at him. It took work to fight a smile at the glee on his son’s face.
But if he got hurt in the off season, his coaches would be up his ass. Damn headstrong woman should have listened to him.
“It’s just snow. I do it all the time.” Declan’s voice took on a higher pitch as he muttered to himself.
In spite of his mood, worry crept up his spine as he approached the car. Her airbag had deployed, and the front end of her car was mangled and woven with the gate to create a terrible mess.
“Natalie?” Declan growled, yanking open the driver’s side door.
Shocked golden-brown eyes stared back at him. She was conscious. That was a good sign.
“I think I hit the gate.” She turned to look back out the windshield like maybe she was wrong. Clearly, this chick wasn’t thinking straight.
“Well aware of the gate situation.” Declan crouched at her side. “Are you hurt?”
She simply blinked at him, so he grabbed her chin and turned her face to him. Other than a cut over her eye, she looked okay.
“I—I don’t think so. Do I look hurt?” She blinked again.
For crap’s sake.
“Can you stand?” He tried a simpler question.
Natalie nodded. He held her arm, helping her out of the door. But the moment she was on her feet, she swayed and leaned into him. Even in the snowy night, her lavender scent slammed into his nose as she tucked her head against his shoulder. Instinctively he turned his face to her hair before he jerked his head back.
Nope.
He wasn’t getting turned on by freaking Goldilocks who’d just crashed into his gate. But she wasn’t steady enough to walk. So, hewasgoing to have to carry her while fighting the icy driveway. This kept getting better.
Declan lifted her and cradled her against his chest with his arm under her knees, trying his best to ignore the scent of lavender and the way his stomach bottomed out when she was this close.
“But my car—I need to leave.”
Yeah,thatwasn’t happening.
“No one’s going anywhere tonight. Your car is now part of my gate, and separating the two is a tomorrow problem, when it’s light and the sky stops spitting cold wet shit at us.”
“Okay…” she mumbled into his chest.
He barely knew her, but the lack of argument seemed out of character for the woman. Nor did she have any comment as he slipped and slid down the driveway. With the serious damage to her car and her suddenly agreeable demeanor, he worried she might have a concussion.
