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“I’m Ellie.”
“Sergeant Grayson.” He smiled kindly at her, and her brain emptied of all coherent thoughts.
“Oh, like Dick.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could call them back.
Oh. My. God. Undo. Undo! You did not just say the words “like Dick” to the sexiest man you’ve ever met.
He quirked up an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
Heat flooded her cheeks and she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “You know, from Batman? Dick Grayson was his sidekick, Robin. Well, I guess technically he’s Nightwing now, but that’s . . . um . . . not important.”
A smile, bigger and brighter than the ones he’d offered her before, lit up his face. “So you’re not asking me if I like . . .” A teasing glint shone in his eyes, sending her stomach swooping up and then down.
She bit her lip and shook her head, her ponytail swishing against her cheek. “No. Definitely not. I mean, if you do, if you don’t, that’s none of my business. I heard your name, and I said the first thing that came into my head. I’m just going to stop talking now.” She exhaled, puffing her cheeks out.
God, Ellie. Get your shit together.
“Well, I don’t.” He leaned toward her and winked. “Catwoman is much more my type.”
She touched her fingers to her lips as fresh blood flowed into her cheeks, excitement replacing her embarrassment. “Too bad I left my latex suit at home.”
He laughed, and the sound warmed her straight to her core. “Let’s get you out of the cold.”
He led her to his SUV, his gloved hand on the small of her back. Despite the layers of fabric separating them, it felt as though his touch was burning her, igniting her nerve endings, and something caught, deep in her chest, at the sweet protectiveness of the gesture.
A tiny seedling of hope took root inside her. Maybe he wasn’t like the other men she’d dated. She wasn’t sure if she should let that seedling grow or rip it out by its roots.
* * *
Matt Grayson brought his shovel down hard on the surface of the icy snowbank, chipping away at the snow and breaking up the ice around the wheel well of the front passenger’s side tire of Ellie’s car. Scooping up a shovel-full of heavy snow, he tossed it over his shoulder, digging in again in a fast, efficient rhythm.
He definitely wasn’t going to miss this. Winters in Wyoming were long, cold, and sometimes impossibly snowy. He was more than happy to trade the snow for rain, especially when that trade came with a big promotion, and the chance to really make a difference. Handily enough, it also served as an excuse to start over somewhere new.
He glanced back over his shoulder in the direction of his SUV, where Ellie sat in the front seat, scoping out the police gear mounted to the dash with animated curiosity. Something tightened in his stomach as he watched her, and he forced himself to keep shoveling, trying to ignore his body’s response to her.
To be fair, it wasn’t every day that he pulled over to help someone stuck in a snowbank only to be presented with the view of a deliciously round, feminine ass. God, she was cute. More than cute. She was a blonde in glasses, and the sexy librarian vibe she gave off was really doing it for him. He felt a tug of disappointment that he couldn’t ask her out. Figured. The first woman he’d wanted to ask out in a long time, and he met her when he couldn’t do anything about it. He shook his head. Flirting with her had felt good. He’d felt light, happy, and warm. So warm.
Damn.
He kicked the tire and a chunk of sludge dislodged from the top of the wheel well, splattering on his boots. Stepping back, he surveyed his work and felt a bead of sweat trickle from his hairline down over his temple. Flexing his hands around the shovel, he circled the car, checking for damage and any other buried portions. He bent over to check the tailpipe, making sure it was free of snow. Leaning against the rear fender, he waved Ellie over, and watched as she hopped out of the SUV and made her way cautiously toward him. Immediately, his mind flashed back to how she’d felt in his arms and his palms tingled with the urge to touch her again. They’d been separated by several layers of clothing, including a Kevlar vest, and the contact had only been for a second or two, but it had left him wanting more. He felt the insane need to see her blush again, to hear her laugh, to see her light brown—almost golden, really—eyes light up as she smiled. He knew nothing about her, and that only drove home the realization that he wanted to know her.
Her long, blond ponytail swayed behind her as she walked, swishing against her shoulders. Her pink cheeks stood out against her ivory skin, the bottom lip of her wide mouth caught between her teeth. She pushed her glasses up her nose as she approached, squinting against the sun already slanting toward the horizon.
“Thanks for your help, Sergeant Grayson.”
“You’re welcome. And it’s Matt.” Not that it mattered.
“Matt. I don’t know how long I would’ve been here if you hadn’t come along. Good timing.”
She had no idea how wrong she was. His timing was terrible.
He nodded, not sure what to say because he couldn’t say the things he wanted to. “Drive safe. Happy New Year.”
She nodded, her brow furrowed and her lip once again caught between her teeth. He needed to stop looking at her mouth. Needed to stop racking his brain for ways to prolong the interaction. He pushed off the fender just as she strode forward, and once again, they were chest to chest.
“Happy New Year to you too, Matt.” She opened her mouth as though she were going to say more, and then closed it, pressing her lips together. Something bright and hopeful shone in her eyes as she looked up at him, and regret slammed into him.
Fuck.
