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"You're bundled up good, so you should be fine." Grabbing one of the towels I always keep with me from behind the seat, I gently wipe Cherry's face free of snow. "Did you have a hat?"
She nods, her teeth beginning to chatter less.
I hop out of the truck and dig through the snow until I find the nubby woolen hat we found at the thrift store. I shake out the snow and set it on the dashboard in the truck, another dry towel under it, so the snow can melt off.
Cherry's color is already improving, and her teeth have stopped chattering. She's going to be fine, I know that, but my heart is still pounding like she's in danger.
"How are you feeling? Any dizziness or confusion?"
She sniffles. "I'm okay. I just feel like an idiot. I'm not an outdoorsy person and I'm never going to prove to RJ that I've changed when I can't even handle getting to a job interview without nearly dying."
"You're not an idiot. You just aren't familiar with deep snow. Jo doesn't keep her driveway as cleared as she should because she's got a big truck and a trailer that gets up and down it with no problems. And the drive would have been cleared before you got here if I wasn't running late this morning. I had to referee an argument between the zoning commissioner and a business owner."
"I was stuck in the snow and I couldn't move my feet. I couldn't even figure out how to walk in snow."
"It's easier with snowshoes. I wouldn't be able to walk in this snow, either. It's heavier down deep, because we had warmer weather a few weeks ago and the snow melted a bit, then refroze hard and heavy when it got cold again. On top of that, there's the soft fluffy stuff. It's a combination for getting your feet stuck that no one could out muscle."
She sniffles again, her eyes wide and sad. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."
I huff out a laugh. "Do I strike you as the kind of guy who says things just to make people feel better?"
That gets a smile out of her. She looks down at herself and huffs out a defeated sigh. "I can't go for a job interview like this."
I start up my truck. "Josephine's not looking for a sharp dresser. She's looking for a hard worker."
That doesn't seem to cheer Cherry. Instead of starting up the drive like I'd planned, I keep the truck in park and turn to face her. "I don't want to blow smoke, but you're a shoe in for this job. No one else is applying."
I hate her expression, all self-doubt and worry. It's not rational, but it makes me want to punch James. Somehow, on a gut-deep level, I'm sure her self-doubt is his fault.
"I'm not cut out for hard work, Xavier. I tried, okay? I came all the way out here and I tried to prove to RJ that I've changed, but maybe he's right. Maybe all I'm ever going to be is a silly woman who's better at shopping than adulting."
I grip her face in my gloved hands and lean in close, studying her intently.
Her brows lift, then her eyes heat. She licks her lips and I want to kiss her.
"What are you doing?" she asks, her voice breathy.
My cock goes hard in an instant and the cab of my truck suddenly feels way too hot. "I'm checking for signs of a concussion."
"Why?"
I take a long moment to get myself together, to remember I'm helping her and—
She presses her lips to mine, and the world vanishes in an electric spark. All thoughts seep out of my brain with my blood as it rushes to my lips and my cock. Cherry presses her tongue to my lips and I open to her.
Kissing her is even better than I'd imagined, and I've imagined it more often than I want to admit to myself. I've been thinking about tasting this woman, about holding her, and, even stranger, just about spending time with her far more than is healthy.
I move my hands from her cheeks to wrap one around the back of her neck and the other around her waist, so I can pull her closer. I should pull back. She's upset and I'm being an asshole.
Except she's the one who kissed me and if this is what she needs to feel better, who am I to argue?
Selfish bastard that I am, I move my lips to her cheek, tasting the salty track left by her tears, and then to her jaw, tasting every inch of her skin.
She moans and tilts her head back, giving me more access, but she's got a thick scarf and a coat in the way. We're in my truck and she just had a near-death experience.
Slowly, I pull away, pushing her back as I do. I won't be able to resist her if she keeps touching me.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
