Even so, right now, I don’t give a shit. And since I’m not a pussy and I’m definitely no politician, I’ve decided I’m nothing other than fucking brilliant. Because, unless she kicks me out into the storm, I’m snowed in with my own personal hacker until further notice. And since she kissed me back when I couldn’t wait another second to touch her in the flesh, things are looking good.

  Fuck the numbers.

  I’m sitting on Demi’s sofa and she’s obsessing over the cut on my forehead. “What in the hell were you thinking? You could’ve been killed. No one should be out in this storm, let alone without four-wheel drive.”

  She’s not wrong. Wrapping that Flintstones car around her big-ass pine tree wasn’t fun, but it seems everyone else was hell-bent on getting out of Winter Falls when I wanted in, and there was no other rental available. There was barely enough room in the back seat for my backpack.

  She’s berating me. It’s a far cry from her melting in my arms just moments ago in the snow. The space is only lit by a roaring fire and candles, but it’s clean, efficient, and I like it. A small tree stands dark in the corner with a cluster of presents tucked beneath.

  I feel like I stepped back in time by three decades. I looked up the tax records for her address, for the simple fact I’m nothing if not thorough in everything I do, and it made me feel better since she pretty much read everything on my phone like a best-selling novel. I also know she’s a member of the Winter Falls Snowboarding Club and the original organizer of We Climb.

  After I joined the rest of the world on social media, I left my notifications on. If Demi were to try to get hold of me, I wasn’t going to miss it, especially since we were on opposite sides of the globe.

  What was missing on her social media profiles were men, besides Sheriff Benjamin and her brothers. She’s close with her family, which makes me hope if this works out past the weather catastrophe we’re experiencing, she might be able to put up with the pain-in-the-ass Carpinos.

  She pushes the thick shirt I was using as a coat down my shoulders. It was the heaviest thing I had with me in Australia. I’m thanking the gods it’s soaking wet from the snow, because being undressed by my hacker is a bonus I was not counting on.

  “It was the only car they had.”

  She looks up at me, and her eyes are bluer than her pictures let on, even in the dim space. “Are you crazy or stupid?”

  I shake my head. “Trust me, I don’t normally do shit like this.”

  “Like what, risk your life?” She shakes the snow from my shirt, drapes it over a chair by the fire, and yanks her sweater down her shoulders.

  I probably just missed my first opportunity to undress her too.

  Fuck. I don’t even recognize myself.

  Focus, Logan.

  “I only take measured risks. But it seems when a blizzard is going to fuck up my plans, I do things like change my flights and drive hours through the snow.” I yank off my shoes since my feet are soaking wet before peeling off my socks. “Trust me, I don’t like it either.”

  Standing there in only leggings and a thin tank top, she crosses her arms over her perfect tits when she shivers. “You should have called me.”

  I toss my socks on the hearth in front of the fire and turn fully to her. “I had no time. I barely got on another flight. And by the time I finally found a rental, it was too late. I was all in and didn’t give a shit what you thought.”

  Her jaw tightens.

  The need to touch her again is strong. I take a step forward and she pulls in a breath when I frame her hips with my hands. “The thought of having to go another week or, hell, even a month since I have to be back in Sydney in January, created a pit in my gut.”

  With these words, her eyes flare.

  “Right.” I give her a squeeze and pull her body to mine, lowering my tone. “Demi, I’ve never felt that before. I owed it to myself to figure out what it meant. I owed it to you. We can put that behind us, I’m here now.”

  “You’re here,” she echoes.

  “Are you pissed? Please don’t tell me you’re going to send another company-wide email. I can’t go through that twice. I’m already the laughing stock of the company.”

  She pulls her lips between her teeth, and her blue eyes cringe. “That was the result of rage and frustration. I’m sorry about that.”

  “Do you rage often?”

  Her gaze shifts to the side. “Only when someone tells me something isn’t possible.”

  She hasn’t moved from my touch, so I slide a hand up to the middle of her back and smile. “I learned my lesson. I will never underestimate you again.”

  She unfolds her arms from between us. Her fingers, which she normally uses to dig deep into sensitive and private information, feel their way up my chest over my thermal. “I’ve never been a pit in anyone’s stomach before.”

  “That you know of,” I point out, thinking of the last asshole she met online who’s been harassing her. But I keep that to myself, because who wants to talk about a stalker at Christmas?

  A small smile plays on her lips. “True. I think I have some butterfly bandages for your cut. Are you hungry? I’m afraid we won’t have power for a while. I wasn’t planning on company for a few days. We’ll have to make do.”

  I can’t lie. My mom was pissed when I told her I wouldn’t make it to Omaha for Christmas. I explained something came up and I had to change my plans. After that, I turned my phone off because notifications are from the devil himself.

  “I’m starving. And my suitcase went to Nebraska. I have a toothbrush in my backpack, but that’s it.”

  Demi grins. “Sounds like a dystopian Christmas special.”

  I fight the corner of my lips tugging toward the North Pole and exhale. This is going to be interesting.

  And I can’t fucking wait.

  Chapter 11

  Demi

  Vulnerable

  My contribution to Christmas dinner was supposed to be Brussels sprouts and a buffalo chicken appetizer. I had the appetizer mixed up and ready to bake, but that’s it. The temp in my house is falling as fast as the snow outside. Cold dip didn’t sound good.

  Logan whipped up a rack in the fireplace from a baking sheet. It took longer than normal and it wasn’t baked evenly, but we ate warm dip for dinner and had toasted brown sugar glazed Pop Tarts for dessert. If I had to guess, I’d bet Logan Carpino is still hungry, but he hasn’t complained.

  Now we’re sitting in front of the fire, me criss cross, and Logan is leaning back on one arm with his long legs stretched out next to me. We’re on our second round of beers and the crackle of the fire is loud, in comparison to the silent night with everything powered off.

  I try to bite back the goofy grin on my face, but fail.

  He takes a swig of his beer and frowns. “What?”

  I let out a little laugh. “I have to admit, from the moment you weren’t being an asshole, I wondered what you were like. Never in my wildest imagination did I picture you sitting in my house wearing my Victoria’s Secret hoodie and fuzzy socks.”

  Logan, confident and masculine, is comfortable in his skin. He has to be. He didn’t even flinch when I offered him something warm to wear. Size wise, I’m a small, sometimes a medium. But Victoria’s Secret sent me the wrong size last year and I forgot to return it. Plus, it’s big and roomy—I like to snuggle up in it.

  But it is pink with the logo in glitter on the front. And the fuzzy socks he borrowed are red and white striped, a gift from Posey in a Christmas basket that included a vibrator, because she’s the best kind of friend.

  He nudges my ass with his candy-caned foot and dazzles me with a smile that would make Santa jealous. “I’m a lot of things, hacker, but I’ve never been prepared for surprise detours or blizzards.”

  My smile turns tight, and I have to fake my cheery tone. It’s stupid, I know. I have no hold on Logan. Just because he flew the opposite direction than his first destination and risked death in a blizzard, he’s only been here for a short time. I have no claim on him. “So you plan on doing this again?”

  “Fuck, no.” He sets his beer down on the floor next to him. “Next time I’ll tell you. Maybe you can pick me up a pair of sweats and some boxers for the occasion.”

  I look down at the bits of paper I’m collecting from picking the label off my beer because I don’t sit idly well.

  “Demi.”

  I look up at his shadowed face lit only by the fire. “Hmm?”

  He doesn’t move, but that doesn’t mean his eyes don’t spear me to my spot here on the floor. “Never thought I’d travel around the world and schlep through a blizzard for anyone, let alone someone I met online and who embarrassed me at my place of business. Why are you making that face? Do you want me to leave?”

  “No,” I exclaim, not cool or smooth or collected.

  I have zero play and I know it. I’ve always been this way. Maybe it’s from growing up with brothers. Maybe it’s because I’d rather be on a black diamond or hiking the hard trails. Who am I kidding? I’m sure it’s because I work behind a keyboard and don’t interact with people on a daily basis.

  “I don’t want you to go. You traveling all the way here to meet me is…” My tongue sneaks out to wet my dry lips. “Well, if this isn’t common for you, then I really don’t do this.” I motion back and forth between us. “Why do you think I was on a dating app to begin with? And the only experience I had other than you was not a good one.”

  “About your bad experience.” Logan scoots closer to me and moves my beer out of the way. His hand finds mine and our fingers lace so naturally, it calms my nerves and revs my anxious heart. I wonder if this is how lovers feel when magnetism and instinct take over. If this is what home feels like? “How did that end? I talked to your dad that night, but beyond that, I don’t know anything.”

  His thumb swipes my wrist—back and forth and back and forth. I sense it’s to calm me, but it’s doing the opposite.

  “My dad wants me to file a restraining order. I don’t know. I’ll see after the holidays.”

  He gives my hand a squeeze and lets go, moving back to where he was. “My barging in on you. Probably not a good move right now, huh?”

  I shake my head and close the space he just created. “Call it intuition, or maybe it’s simply the fact I’ve combed through your phone. I’m glad you’re here, Logan. The fact that Sam is an asshole doesn’t make you one.”

  He claims my hand as his again, but this time his hold is tighter. Coupled with his dark gaze, a shiver runs down my spine.

  His tone is as low and as warm as the fire light surrounding us. “I’m relieved.”

  The vibes I get from Logan couldn’t be more different than those from Sam.

  “You cold?”

  If he only knew. Still, I answer, “Yes.”

  “Come here.” He gives me a gentle yank and pulls me between his legs. I turn and fit myself to him. His chest is warm against my back, firm and inviting, as he wraps his arms around me. “Relax, Demi. Been a long couple of days. I traveled over twenty-four hours, drove through a blizzard, and wrapped my rental around a tree. I’m beat.”

  I lean my head against his shoulder and realize how tired I am too. Not that I’ve spent an entire day traveling back in time, but between work, getting ready for Christmas, and now my surprise visitor, exhaustion has set in.

  His lips brush my ear. “Tell me something about you. Something that will make me feel closer to you. Anything.”

  Well. My exhaustion just flew out my drafty windows.

  The fire does funny things to my eyes as I stare into the flames. Logan says nothing more, letting his probing question hang between us in the silent night. He does run his big hand up and down my arms, the friction warming me.

  “You make me nervous,” I whisper, and his hands stop, so I keep talking. “In a good way. The best way.” His methodical hands move again, and I feel him exhale. “I like it, but I’m scared of it.”

  He hikes a leg and reclines back against my sofa, taking me with him. “Why are you scared of it?”

  I allow myself to settle into his chest. “Because I feel vulnerable. And now that I just admitted this … exposed.”

  His arms convulse around me, but he says nothing.

  My eyes slide to the right. “Isn’t this the time you reciprocate with a deep, dark secret not found on your cell?”

  His chest vibrates when he presses his lips to the top of my head. “Sorry, I was thinking.”

  “What about?”

  “Being vulnerable is good. We’re in our most basic state when we’re vulnerable, right? Not sure there’s a better time for that than now. Snowed in, no electricity, no distractions.”

  “That’s not a secret, Logan.”

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman. In any way, baby.”

  I look down at his arms wrapped around me and trace a vein in his hand with my index finger. “You mentioned that. How long?”

  He brings that hand to my chin, tilting my face to his. He presses his lips to mine again, and just like when we were outside in the snow, his kiss is warm, strong, and demanding. His tongue invades my mouth, and I was right before. He’s hungry, but not for food.

  When he finally allows me to take a breath, he murmurs against my lips. “Years long. So, a long fucking time.”

  I smile.

  His eyes narrow.

  “You like that?” he asks.

  I try to bite back my smile, but it’s futile. “Maybe.”

  He pulls in a breath and turns me back to the fire, in a way I wonder if he’s controlling himself. Holding himself back. He mutters, “Talk about exposed.”

  I settle into him and feel much better about my vulnerable state. When I close my eyes, Logan presses his lips to my temple. “Tomorrow, my beautiful hacker, we’ll get to know each other more. Close your eyes.”

  I do. With the wind and snow lashing against my house, and the nerves swirling in my stomach, I force myself to close my eyes. And I finally relax in the arms of the man who pissed me off so much, I hacked into his phone.

  Craziest Christmas ever.

  And, maybe, the best.

  Chapter 12

  Demi

  My Fire Needs Wood

  My back is on fire, but the tip of my nose is frozen.

  Not literally. But I’ve never been so hot and cold at the same time.

  When I open my eyes, my family room is bathed in light. Snow is still falling in buckets so thick, I can barely see the forest. Beyond that, the mountain range is nowhere to be seen. It’s a whiteout.

  The fire is barely crackling, but the last thing I want to do is get up and throw another log on the fire. And that’s because the man I accidentally met on a dating app and subsequently hacked is wrapped around me.

  Logan’s thick thigh is hitched and heavy on my hip and legs. His even breaths whisper against my temple. And his hand…

  His hand somehow made its way up my shirt, resting warm against my heart and over my breast. I not only feel it, but my hand is holding it there with our fingers woven and warm and so very, very together.

  I give his hand a squeeze, and his body contracts around mine. Every muscle is hard and taut as we’re wrapped around one another under my down comforter.

  One very important part of his body is hot, hard, and pressed into my bottom.

  And I like it.

  My eyelids fall shut, and I can’t help but arch.

  His hand that’s teasing the swell of my breast inches up, wraps around my neck, and slides to my jaw. He lifts my face as his lips touch the skin below my ear. A shiver runs through my body that has nothing to do with the electricity outage or the frozen state of my nose.

  After tasting my skin, the cold tip of his nose brushes my earlobe. “Merry Christmas.”

  I burrow deeper into his warmth, which also means his cock. I swear it’s bigger than it was moments ago and I suddenly hope the snow never stops falling. This feeling could easily become an addiction. “Hmm, merry Christmas.”

  He presses his groin into my ass. “The fire needs wood.”

  I bite back a moan because I agree. My fire definitely needs wood. “Yes.”

  My head hits his shoulder, and the hand that has a firm grip on my jaw slowly makes its way down the center of my body, teasing my breasts on the way. “You cold?”

  “No.” I open my eyes. His hair is a gorgeous mess, and his dark gaze holds mine hostage—asking me, willing me, or, maybe even daring me—as his fingers tease my lower abs.

  I press my ass into his cock again, and his whole body tenses, his hand flattens on my lower abs and holds me to him. That’s right before he slides that hand down the front of my joggers and straight into my panties.

  His gorgeous face disappears from my sight when my eyelids fall shut, and I’m lost in Logan Carpino. He doesn’t take his time or mess around, which is so like everything I’ve gotten from him so far. His fingers slide easily between my legs, two fingers plunging deep in my sex.

  “Yes. Oh, yes.” My words slip out on an exhale, spurring him on. I forget about the snow, our lack of electricity, Christmas, and how we got to this moment. I only focus on exactly what he’s doing now. I forget about his thick cock on my ass and press my hips forward.

  He pumps me twice before giving me what I want. When he brushes my clit the first time, I gasp.

  So fucking good.

  “You’re so fucking wet.”

  Yes. Yes, I am.

  “For me,” he goes on. “You’re wet for me.”

  This is a given, but I can’t confirm because I can’t form words. For him, my body is reacting in ways I don’t recognize. And it’s been so long since anyone has caught my interest, let alone had this effect on me.

  He circles my clit in a way that might drive me mad if he doesn’t kick it into gear soon, putting those muscles to work.

  “Please,” I beg. “I want more.”