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When I reach my SUV, I carefully set her inside before digging around in the back for the blanket and emergency kit I keep back there. That’s going to be the first thing I get Indie for her new car.
After securing the items I need, I climb into the driver's seat and place the blanket on her lap, tucking it around her sides to keep her nice and warm. Then I take her small hands in mine, growling when I feel how cold they are. I turn them over, inspecting her for frostbite. Thank God I don’t see anything concerning.
“Walker?” she finally asks as I cradle her ice-cold hands, trying to infuse my warmth into her.
“Don’t talk, Indigo.”
Her shoulders slump. I curse myself for being a dick, but I need her to save her energy. When I’m satisfied with the warmth in her hands, I put my gloves on her and tuck her hands into the blanket for added heat.
I bring my hands up to her face, gently cupping her cheeks and looking her over for damage. Indie’s impossibly big teal eyes stare back at me. She’s okay. Shaken up, frightened, and still in shock, but she’s going to be okay. A violent shiver works its way through her body, spurring me into action. My pixie needs a hot shower, a change of clothes, and then a long talk about her never pulling this shit again.
By the time we pull up to my cabin, I’ve all but lost my damn mind. Looking over at Indie, I see her huddled up in my coat and blanket, staring out the window.
I silently get out of the car, then run around to the passenger side and gather Indie up in my arms, blanket and all. I’m shaking as I set her down on the couch and start up a fire in the fireplace. The adrenaline is long gone, replaced by fear and anger. I’ve never been this rattled, this frayed apart at the edges. I’ve never cared about anyone this much. Not since my parents died. It’s fucking terrifying and I’m not sure what to do with the feelings rushing through me, each one fighting for dominance.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I bark out, pacing back and forth. “What were you doing out there alone? Where is your phone? Why would you put yourself in danger like that? Of all the irresponsible, short-sighted…”
I’m jarred out of my panicked, frustrated rant when I hear a muted sob echo throughout the cabin. I whip my head up to look at Indie. What I see completely shatters me.
My pixie has her head buried in her hands as painful sobs wrack her tiny body. She’s folded in on herself as if she’s trying to disappear into the blanket. I fall to my knees in front of her and pull her into my lap. My heart breaks as I cradle her in my arms. Indie trembles almost violently as her tears soak through my shirt.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into her hair. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. God, sweetheart, I was so worried. So fucking scared I’d lost you.”
Indie clings to me as I stand up and reposition us on the couch so she's straddling me. I adjust the blanket, making sure it's still wrapped around her. I notice she's wearing the moon and star necklace I gave her. Something about her remembering to wear that but not her coat sinks down into me.
We sit there for long moments, me gently rocking her back and forth and rubbing her back in calming circles, Indie nuzzling into the side of my neck and holding onto me with all her strength.
“I-I just w-wanted a Christmas t-tree,” she stutters out through her tears. This girl is killing me. I’m such a fucking asshole for making her cry.
“I know, baby. I’m sor—"
“And I forgot my coat,” she says, ignoring my apology. She’s got some fire behind her words. Even though her anger is directed at me, I’m just glad she has the energy to put up a fight. “And I left my phone on the counter because I couldn’t decide if I wanted to text you or not. It was anaccident! But I’m trying, Walker. I’m trying so fucking hard to be the adult everyone needs me to be, but I don’t know what I’m doing!” Indie is nearly shouting by the end of her sentence. Her face turns from furious to shameful in the blink of an eye. I hate it. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” Indie whispers again as tears fall down her cheeks.
“I’ve got you, pixie,” I murmur, letting her burrow into the side of my neck. “I’ll take care of everything. I’ll take care of you.”
“But I want to take care of myself. I want to prove to everyone I’m not an idealistic, naïve kid anymore,” Indie mumbles, her face still pressed against me. I cup the back of her neck and massage her there, trying to soothe my beautiful, broken pixie.
“You’re not a kid, Indie. I love that you view the world with excitement. I love your untamed soul, pixie. I love your big heart, and that even though you might not know what you’re doing, youaredoing it. You helped pick up the pieces when your sister needed you, just like I’m here now to pick up the pieces for you. All you have to do is let me.”
She doesn’t say anything, but her arms tighten around me and she melts a little more into my embrace. I feel the moment our hearts beat as one. There’s no other way to explain it. As crazy and impossible as it sounds, we somehow found each other. Indie is my opposite in almost every way, and yet we somehow fit together perfectly. I hold her close, absorbing her doubts, worries, and pain, replacing them with my confidence in our future together.
I carefully set Indie down, just long enough to make a few calls. First, I call Mistletoe Mechanics to get the car towed, and then I call Mable to pick up Melissa and Carson. I know she’ll break the news to Melissa gently and then mother her and Carson when they get back home.
A sudden need sparks deep in my core when I come back to the couch and see Indie all curled up. It hits me with enough force to knock the air out of my lungs. I sit down next to her and pull her into my lap once more, but she’s still not close enough. I hate the layers of fabric separating her skin from mine. The reality of almost losing the most important, precious thing to me has me all amped up.
Indie senses my need. Maybe she needs it, too. She leans back and looks me straight in the eye as she cups my face. My pixie doesn’t have to say anything; her feelings are written all over her face. I see remorse, fear, and shame swimming in her teal eyes. I hate that I made her feel any of those things.
She leans forward, resting her forehead on mine. I slip my hands under the blanket, needing to touch her. Indie slides her hands around to the back of my neck, sighing so sweetly when my fingers trail up the bare skin of her back. I groan softly when she rolls her hips, my dick springing to life with an almost painful urgency. She’s as essential as air, so I breathe her in, filling my lungs with her sugary peppermint scent.
When Indie presses her lips to mine, I know I’m a goner. I grip her hips, helping her grind down against my swollen cock, giving us both the friction we need. The sweetest, most desperate whimper falls from her lips, and I take the opportunity to slip my tongue into her mouth.
I slide one hand up her back, tangling my fingers in her long, silky black hair. It’s a wet, matted mess, which pulls me out of the moment. I’m an asshole. She’s half-frozen, and here I am ready to bend her over the couch and fuck her so roughly there will be no doubt in her mind who she belongs to.
“W-what’s wrong?” Indie asks breathlessly.
I steal one last kiss before standing up with her in my arms. “I need to get you in a hot shower, pixie.”
"As long as you'll take one with me." There's a playful, heated gleam in her eyes, and yeah, I'm about ready to come in my damn jeans.
