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“Aw, don’t be sorry, honey,” he says cheerfully, running his eyes over me. He has the tiniest trace of an accent, a gentle lilt that gives his words a pretty, sing-songy sound. “Are you injured? Does your back hurt?”
“I—” I roll my shoulders, and pain shoots up my neck again. “Not my back.”
“Good.” He reaches in and offers me a gloved hand. I take it, letting him gently tug me out of my wrecked car. “I don’t like your chances of getting an ambulance up here right now.” He pulls me out onto the road. Cold air stings my face as snowflakes flutter down, landing on my coat. I stumble as my feet hit thick snow, and he slides his other arm around my waist, keeping me upright. “You’re okay,” he says softly. “You’re okay. Unlike the poor tree you just mowed down.”
Bracing myself, I look around at the devastation I’ve caused. I’m half-expecting to see a giant carcass bleeding out into the snow, but judging by the line of hoof prints leading into the forest, Ijustmissed the moose. Good for him.
Instead, I rear-ended into a fucking huge pine tree.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, taking in my car. It’s not much—a second-hand, orange hunk of metal with a chipped paint job—but I’ve had it since I was a teenager. I saved up waitressing paychecks for years to buy this car. And now it’s so crumpled and cracked, it barely looks like a car at all.“Oh God. There was a moose—”
“I saw it,” Thor grunts. “Eli saw it. The people back in the village bloody saw it. Apparently, the only person whodidn’tsee it was you.” I look up at him. He’s got his arms crossed and his jaw clenched as he looks flatly back at me. “How exactly did you miss an animal that was two metres tall? You drive like a fucking idiot. You could’ve killed it.”
My mouth falls open. “Icould’ve killedit?It could’ve killed me!”
He shrugs, like my death wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
The redhead shoots him a look, then turns back to me. “Don’t mind him, he gets all grumbly when his animals get hurt. What’s your name, honey?”
I hesitate as my mind races. “Um. Uh. It’s… Daisy,” I settle on. I’m a terrible liar, and judging by Thor’s quirked eyebrow, he thinks so, too, but the other man just smiles, offering me his hand.
“Daisy. That’s pretty. I’m Eli,” he says, giving my hand a firm shake. “And the big bear currently glaring at you over my shoulder is Cole. Sorry about him, he has severe behavioural issues.”
Thor—Cole—grumbles something under his breath, patting the crumpled-in trunk. “Hope you didn’t have anything important back here.”
My eyes widen. I brought canvasses and all my paints with me, figuring that if I kept on painting commissions, I could hide up here for months. If anybody ever wants to hire me again.
Maybe people don’t want a whore painting their family portraits.
Crap, crap,crap.
I run over and yank the lid of the boot up, staring in horror at all my broken equipment. All of my canvases are completely ruined, the frames splintered and the fabric ripped. Most of the paint looks fine, although one tube of cadmium red has exploded, spattering all of my stuff with dripping, vibrant crimson. It looks like a crime scene.
Eli comes to stand behind me, taking in the carnage. “Shit,” he says.
I reach out to touch my suitcase, and my fingers come back red. The reality of my situation dawns on me. I’m stranded in a foreign country, with no car, no way of making money, and no fucking clue where I am. I glance up at the sky. In the last couple of minutes, the snow has gotten even heavier, and the clouds are darkening ominously.
“Shit,” I echo.
Two
Cole
Of course she’s a tourist. Ofcourse.
I hate tourists. None of them can drive up here. They just roll in with their summer tyres and expect to be able to navigate ice and snow.I peer inside the broken window and fight the urge to swear. She’s driving a foreign car, for God’s sake. The steering wheel’s on the wrong side. You’d have to be an excellent driver to drive the wrong kind of car on dark winter roads.
Which this girl clearly isn’t. She probably barely passed her test. How hard is it to swerve without knocking down a fucking tree?
Ihatetourists.
I vaguely hear Eli flirting with her behind me as I examine the car. Her voice is soft and shaky as she answers. She sounds nervous.
She should be. She’s lucky to be alive. I walk around the car, taking in the damage. The back window is cracked, and the trunk has been crumpled in like a tin can. She’s left the key in the ignition, so I lean in and turn it. Nothing happens. Sighing, I pull it out, slamming the car door shut.
“Hey!” I look up. The girl is frowning at me. “What are you doing? Give me back my keys.”
I run my eyes over her. She’s tiny. If it weren’t for the soft curves pressing against her pale pink ski jacket, I wouldn’t even think she’s old enough to drive. Even though she’s about the size of a troll doll, she’s got her arms crossed, glaring up at me like she’s about to fight me.
