Once Upon a Rescue Page 4

  Brooke dropped back to her feet and ran her tongue over her lips. The gesture had half the blood draining from his head.

  “Sweet,” she murmured.

  “Huh?”

  “You taste like Oreos.”

  That had him chuckling. “Double dessert before dinner. That works for me.”

  One corner of her mouth lifted in a lop-sided smile. “I’ve been thinking about that all afternoon.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it since junior high.”

  Surprise had her tipping her head back. “What?”

  Damn. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Well, he was in it now. “I had a terrible crush on you back then.”

  “Really?”

  “The girl who had her own daily bake sale to fund her cause of the month. Always something animal-related.”

  Brooke blinked. “Wow. That makes me feel terrible I don’t remember you.”

  “Believe me, it’s better that way. You were out of my league back then.”

  “It was junior high in a small town. There was no league.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.” Because she tempted him to fall into another kiss and well beyond, Hayden made himself take a step back. He wanted more than a quick roll in the proverbial—or, given their location, quite literal—hay with Brooke. “The chili will take a while longer, right?”

  “It’s one of those things that gets better the longer it cooks.”

  He jerked his head toward the door. “The snow’s slowed down. There’s no telling how long it will actually last in the morning. You wanna go play?”

  Her grin spread wide. “Hell yeah.”

  They checked on the dogs one last time and made a run to the house for some extra layers, but fifteen minutes later, they began scooping and packing snow.

  “With all this, we’ll be able to make a snow village!” Brooke declared.

  “It’ll be a damn sight better than the pitiful snowman I managed my last winter here. He was only two feet tall.”

  “Two feet’s good for a Mississippi snowman. Most of mine were only a foot. I have a pictorial chronicle of all the Bobs.”

  “Bobs?”

  Her self-deprecatory laugh was dampened by the snow. “Every snowman I have ever built has been named Bob. I have no idea why. It’s just a thing I started when I was a kid.”

  “And what number Bob are we on today?” Hayden asked.

  She paused in the midst of enlarging the base. “I think this would be Bob the Tenth.”

  “That’s a lot of Bobs for a Southern gal.”

  “My grandparents live in West Virginia. We go up there for Christmas every other year, so I usually get the chance to play in real snow. When I was in first grade, I made a snowball and put it in a big mason jar to bring back for show and tell since nobody really knew what snow looked like down here.”

  He laughed. “And did your prize survive the trip home?”

  She feigned a devastated expression. “Sadly, no. I lost out on cementing my coolness for yet another year.”

  “You’re still cool in my book.” Scooping up snow on the fly, Hayden balled and flung it in her direction. The snowball went splat against her red coat, eliciting a squeak of surprise.

  “Snowman building is the neutral zone!”

  “All’s fair in snow and war,” he declared.

  Instantly, she bent to retaliate. A face full of snow was a frigid reminder that she’d played softball as a kid. She still had a hell of an arm. Her giggle lit the air as he wiped snow from his face.

  “Okay then. It’s on.”

  They played like children, pelting each other with snowballs and dodging in and around the barnyard until he finally snagged her when she shoved a snowball straight down the back of his shirt.

  “You’re going to pay for that!” He dragged her down with him, rolling until she was pressed beneath him, breath heaving, cheeks rosy, and eyes snapping with mischief. There was nothing to do but kiss her.

  Her response was immediate. She arched up to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and opening her mouth beneath his for a string of hot, playful kisses that had him wishing for a bed and far fewer layers. Brooke shared the sentiment, her frozen fingers snaking beneath his shirt to splay against his back.

  Hayden let out a pitifully unmanly yelp at the touch. “Holy crap, woman, your hands are freezing.”

  “That’s what happens when you make out in a snowbank.”

  Laughing, he dropped his brow to hers. “How about we take this inside where it’s warmer?”

  “I support this plan.”

  With one, last, fleeting kiss, Hayden tugged her up, only now noticing his wet jeans and hers. They’d need fresh clothes and towels. At the risk of breaking the mood, he stopped at the door. “In the name of avoiding hypothermia, I’m gonna run into the house to grab some dry clothes for us both, okay?”

  “I’ll check on the dogs.” She skimmed a hand over his cheek. “Hurry back.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Revved up with arousal, Brooke barely noticed the cold. She hadn’t quite decided how far this was going to go, but definitely further. She wanted to get her hands on him, wanted his hands on her. Wanted more kissing. Definitely more kissing. She’d forgotten how much she loved kissing, and Hayden was particularly good at it.

  Inside, assorted canines offered greetings. She went stall to stall, checking on the group. There’d been no fights, no fussing. The lot of them mostly just seemed happy to be out of the worst of the cold. And then she reached the vet stall. Greta was in active labor.

  The priority shift was instant. Brooke slipped inside, moving slowly lest the dog decide to snap. But Greta had bigger things on her mind. Brooke was still kneeling in the straw, checking Greta over when Hayden came back.

  “She doing okay?”

  “Her labor’s starting. She’s doing fine, so far.” Brooke rose to her feet and joined him at the door to the stall.

  His eyes searched her face. “You worried?”

  “No. Just…cautious. Mostly dogs don’t need our help, but there’s that whole fact that we can’t get to any if she does.”

  “I heard somebody around here was a vet tech and actually knows stuff.”

  She shot him a look at the bland tone. “Ha ha. Yeah, I can handle minor stuff. But whatever happens is going to happen, so I’ll leave her to it.”

  “You should get out of those wet clothes.” There was nothing salacious in his tone as he offered up a pile of towels and clothes.

  With a rueful smile, she took the pile. “Not the context where I was hoping to hear those words.”

  A flash of heat crossed his face. “Not right now isn’t the same as never.”

  It fascinated her how he could bank the desire and shift priorities so quickly. Always putting others first. She liked that about him. It set him apart from the long string of duds that had inspired the man diet in the first place and made Hayden, by her estimation, the perfect guy to break it with.

  “No, I suppose not.” She took the pile. “We should work on a collective potty break for the pack before we bother putting on dry clothes.”

  “Fair point. If there’s more snow coming, now’s as good a time as any to do it.”

  “Is there more snow coming?”

  “No idea. Would you mind if there was?”

  “I can’t think of anybody I’d rather be snowbound with.”

  “Back atcha, Blondie.”

  It took almost half an hour to let everybody out. Without a proper fenced yard, they couldn’t risk letting anybody but Tim off leash. All the dogs wanted to sniff, several wanted to play, and Mulligan freaked out about the snow, which was up to his belly. By the time everybody was settled again, she was feeling the cold all the way in her bones and looking forward to chili and dry clothes.

  Settling the dogs with chew bones, Brooke disappeared into the tack room to change. He’d brought her some of his own clothes—a henley and flannel shirt, some swe
atpants. Unable to resist, she buried her nose in the soft flannel and sniffed. The shirt smelled like him, a comforting mix of sweetgrass and cedar that was probably as much detergent as man. The scent immediately calmed her.

  She’d been shockingly calm in general this afternoon, since he’d strode into the rescue with the plan she’d so desperately needed. She was always less stressed when Hayden was around. He had a habit of wading in and helping out, knowing exactly what was needed. She’d seen it before today but hadn’t had occasion to really think about how much his easy assistance was truly worth. For someone like her, used to handling things all on her own, that was more than a little appealing. As if she needed more reasons to like him.

  When she emerged from the tack room, she found he’d changed himself into another variation of his winter uniform of henley and flannel. His wet clothes were draped on one of the stalls to dry. She followed suit, wondering if her own clothes would be wearable by morning. While the barn had warmed considerably, she bet it was hovering right around sixty degrees. Not exactly conducive to air-drying laundry.

  “The chili’s ready,” she announced.

  “Perfect. I’m starved.” But it wasn’t the empty belly kind of hungry she saw on his face.

  “Is everything we say going to sound suggestive now?”

  “Probably. I figure it’s a symptom of makeoutus interruptus. That a problem?”

  “No. Just checking to see if it was just me.”

  “Definitely not just you.”

  “Good to know.” It was a long night ahead. Perhaps there’d be opportunity to pick back up where they’d left off. The idea of it had her skin flushing.

  “I am legitimately looking forward to that chili.”

  “I should hope so since you proposed marriage. That’s a serious offer to be making without tasting it first.”

  “Obviously I need to rectify the oversight.”

  They grinned at each other.

  In the tack room, she dragged out the sour cream and cheese, opening the tortilla chips and setting up a line of fixings on the battered old desk. They dished up the food in a couple of hand-thrown pottery bowls he’d brought from the house and ate the first serving standing around the crock pot. For the second, they relocated to the picnic blanket, where he pulled something from his pocket.

  “How do you feel about cards?”

  She went brows up. “Poker?” In a game of strip poker, she’d be the definite loser, winding up down to her underwear before he even lost his socks. Under some circumstances that might be okay, but it was way the hell too cold for that tonight.

  His grin turned a little bashful. “Gin rummy.”

  Delighted with him, she laughed. “You, Hayden Garrow, are turning out to be quite the surprise.”

  He shuffled the cards and bridged them with all the expertise of a Vegas pit boss. “My Nanna was a bit of a card shark. She taught me to take no prisoners.”

  “Noted. So what are the stakes?”

  “Stakes?”

  “What are we playing for? Just bragging rights or something more interesting?”

  “I’m game for more interesting. How about kisses?”

  “That seems rather mutually beneficial for stakes,” she observed, feeling a tightening low in her gut.

  “Does that offend your competitive spirit?” he teased.

  “Competition is overrated.”

  Grinning, he began to deal.

  Morning came with a warm woman in his arms, her face pressed into the bared skin of his throat, their legs tangled beneath the heavy sleeping bag. Hayden decided it was a pretty amazing way to start the day, even if they were both wearing multiple layers apiece. Then the barking started. A yip here. A whine there. Within moments there was a cacophony of canine demands.

  Brooke groaned and snuggled closer. “Time s’it?”

  “Not sure. Daylight. Breakfast according to the starving masses.”

  She stretched on another moan, her body rubbing enticingly against his and the blood drained out of Hayden’s head. Under the guise of stretching himself, he eased his hips back.

  Blissfully unaware of his state, Brooke sat up, wrapping her arms around her middle. “God, it’s so cold.”

  Her hair stood on end in charming disarray, and her cheeks were flushed and rosy with sleep. Utterly gorgeous.

  Unable to resist the urge, Hayden hooked a hand around her nape and drew her mouth to his. She jolted once before melting into him, her hands fisting in his shirt. Knowing they had work to do, he kept the kiss light and easy, just enough to appease the craving for closeness.

  “Good morning,” he murmured.

  Brooke blinked at him, green eyes hazy with sleep and desire. “That’s a helluva good morning.”

  Hayden grinned. “I’ll do you one better. Go check on the puppies. I’ll start the potty routine and once we’re done, I’ll make pancakes.”

  “Throw in fresh coffee and you will have my undying gratitude.”

  “I thought I already had your undying gratitude,” he teased.

  “Fine. I’ll give you my chili recipe.”

  “Deal.” As the dogs hadn’t slowed down their complaining, he hollered, “I’m coming! I’m coming.” He shoved his feet into boots and shrugged on his coat.

  He and the first three dogs came out of the barn into a winter wonderland. The snow had continued through most of the night, filling in a lot of the tracks from their snowball fight. There was certainly enough to complete the abandoned snowman this morning. While the dogs sniffed and did their business, he checked his phone, reading the backlog of texts that had come in since last night.

  Brooke joined him as he brought in the second group of dogs. “Puppies are doing just fine. All six came through the night and mama’s doing well.”

  “Good to hear. Looks like we ended up with about six inches, all told. The roads aren’t clear yet, but the Department of Public Works has already started clearing in town.”

  “How do you know all that?”

  “Fire Department group text. We’ve been doing running updates since the storm started yesterday. Thankfully there weren’t any major emergencies while the roads were shut down.”

  “Thank God for small miracles.”

  As soon as the dogs were settled again, they retreated to the house. Belatedly, he wondered if he should’ve made an effort to clean up. But Brooke didn’t comment on the evidence of his bachelorhood scattered around the living room and kitchen.

  “Oh my God, heat! This feels glorious!”

  “If you want to throw your clothes into the dryer to warm them up before you change again, you’re welcome to. I’m gonna get started on breakfast.”

  While she was in the laundry room, he made a quick pass through the house to make sure he hadn’t left underwear or anything else mortifying lying around. He scooped up empty glasses and the takeout containers piled on the coffee table. That would have to do.

  Brooke had started the coffee herself. He liked that she was comfortable enough to make herself at home and wondered if that was just how she was or if it had something to do with the fact that she was still wearing his clothes. It was a curious sort of intimacy, along with a host of others they’d crossed since yesterday because of their snowbound state. Would she backpedal once things got back to normal? He didn’t want that. He wanted this to be the start of something real, and he had some ideas on how to make that so.

  “Did your magic group text happen to say what the weather report was?”

  “The cold is here for a couple more days, though the snow is finished. We should be able to get out to go check on the cats by this afternoon.”

  Her shoulders relaxed a little at that. “I guess you’re stuck with us for a little while longer.”

  “I’ve got no problems with that. While we’re out, we’ll swing by your place to pick up some more clothes. Not that I have a problem seeing you in mine.”

  Her answering smile came with a blush. “I really can’t
thank you enough for all your help with this. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t rescued us.”

  Hayden saluted. “I live to serve.” Turning away, he began to mix up the pancake batter. “Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do about the rest of winter? We probably won’t get snow again, but this isn’t likely to be the last of the cold.”

  “You’re right. It’s not. And I really don’t know. I’ve got some grants submitted for funding that I’m waiting to hear on. But that likely won’t come through until spring. If we weren’t already at capacity, I could probably jury rig something that would get us through, but we’re busting at the seams. With six new mouths to feed as of last night.”

  “I had an idea about that, actually.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “I think you should move the shelter out here.”

  Brooke paused, the coffee halfway to her lips. “I’m sorry?”

  “The barn is much bigger than the facility you’ve got and could be adapted to house kennels and such. It’s not being used for livestock and isn’t going to be.” He added a cheeky grin. “Plus, it means I’d have an excuse to see you more often.”

  Her expression softened and she pushed up from the chair, padding across the room in sock feet to slip her arms around him. “Did you need an excuse?”

  He tucked her closer. “You tell me.”

  “Heroes are always welcome.” She rose to her toes and brushed her lips over his in a quiet kiss, full of affection and gratitude. “I appreciate the thought and your willingness to just offer up your space, but I don’t think that’s the answer. At least, not on any kind of permanent basis.”

  “Why?”

  “You said yourself you’d been thinking about opening up the barn for boarding. You might need that income. Beyond that, it would put the rescue very much in your space. There’s the noise from the animals, not to mention, serious implications for the future salability of the property.”

  “We’re not selling the farm.”

  “Maybe you won’t. But if it came up, that would be a problem. Plus, it’s a fair bit out from town and there’s a lot of legal implications with permits and stuff.” She softened her refusal with a wry smile. “Besides, what happens if you get sick of me?”