She rolls her eyes. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  I drop my hand to her towel-covered ass and squeeze. “If you choose wisely, you can be romanced like this for a long, long time.”

  All I see is wet hair when her forehead lands on my chest.

  Maybe I’m wearing her down.

  “At least we weren’t in the shower together when your dad got here. It was bad enough wearing your clothes.”

  She looks up and gives me a small smile. “Electricity means real life, and real life means you’ll probably wear underwear, doesn’t it?”

  “I’ll gladly stay commando in your presence for as long as you’ll have me, baby.” I shake my head. “Say you’ll come with me, and I’ll throw all my underwear into the Tasman Sea.”

  Her smile fades, but her fingers grip my shirt tighter.

  “Demi,” I push.

  She reaches up to kiss me, but I take over. Her back is to the wall and her towel hits the floor before I let her mouth go. It’s more difficult than anything I’ve done, but I don’t touch her the way I want to … the way I’m desperate to.

  Instead, I tip my forehead to hers. “Don’t say no. Whatever you do, just don’t say no.”

  I let her go and move to the bathroom.

  This is a form of misery I’m not used to.

  Chapter 18

  Demi

  Open Ended

  The power is on, and my old furnace is hacking away like it’s smoked three packs a day for the last five decades.

  It might not be far from the truth.

  I found a frozen lasagna in the freezer and I was able to cook Logan a meal that wasn’t warmed over the campfire.

  My mom and dad have been relentless, leaving me a million voicemails. Both of them are checking on me since I have a male overnight guest they didn’t know about. What every message had in common was they knew I wasn’t going to Australia. How they were sure I was too pragmatic, responsible, and, they didn’t say it, but boring, to up and do something so wild, crazy, and irresponsible.

  They’re right on all counts. I’m all those things.

  And all those reasons are holding me back.

  I hate myself for it.

  Logan must have sensed the internal war I’m fighting. He’s proved once again that he’s pretty damn perfect, because he hasn’t asked me again to come with him. Instead, he brought us back to the magical place we found when it was just us in the middle of a snowstorm.

  We didn’t move the mattress back to my bedroom. We didn’t turn the lights on. No TV. Neither of us checked emails or tried to get caught up on work.

  The only thing running other than my old furnace are the fairy lights twinkling on my skinny, bare Christmas tree.

  The sun set hours ago.

  I fell asleep in Logan’s arms, wearing nothing but a tank and panties. Everything might be the same, but my old house is nice and warm tonight.

  The New Year has come and gone, and Winter Falls is back to business as usual. It’s my last night with Logan. You’d think I’d toss and turn, but I don’t. I’m sure that will happen tomorrow when I’m by myself again … when he’s gone and I’m regretting my boring and pragmatic and responsible personality traits that I just can’t shake.

  My eyes flutter open when a warm hand drags my panties down my hips. Lips and a tongue assault the skin below my ear, and a tremor of the best sort ripples down my back when I feel his cock on the bare skin of my ass.

  His deep baritone flutters across my skin. “Don’t move.”

  I nod and my breath goes shallow.

  “You’re wet for me,” he notes. My panties are tangled around one ankle as he plays with me, spinning me into a flurry of emotions that are as deep as the snow outside. “Gonna miss this, baby. Gonna miss you more than anything.”

  “Logan—” I try to turn to look at him but he stops me when his long, hard cock slides into me from behind, stretching me and filling me in a way I never want it to end.

  His hand slides over my hip and between my legs. When his fingers find my needy clit, I arch, wanting more of him—as much as I can get.

  He slides in and out of me, excruciatingly slow when all I want is more.

  Faster.

  Harder.

  One more souvenir … before he leaves.

  Before it’s over.

  He continues his torture until he can’t take it any longer.

  His fingers circle faster. His cock slams into me harder.

  “This doesn’t have to end.”

  His words… They pierce and slay me.

  “Don’t let it end. Give me your trust, hacker. Time doesn’t matter, you know me. All of me, in and out.”

  I lean my head on his chest, his lips hit my shoulder, and his teeth sink into my skin. I come instantly, and he follows shortly after. His body moves with reckless abandon, and he holds nothing back.

  My moans cut through the quiet room, trailed by a growl that vibrates through me where we’re connected.

  I’m spent when he comes, limp and wrapped in his arms with his muscular body cradling me. He holds me tight to his chest and doesn’t pull out. My breathing hasn’t evened yet when I hear the crinkle of paper.

  The source of that noise is forced into my fingers, and my eyes fly open. “What’s this?”

  He presses his lips to the back of my head. “Open ticket.”

  I do my best to read the paper in the darkened room. “Ticket?”

  “I’m giving you every opportunity to not break me.”

  “Logan—”

  “I’d rather you use it today. I’m not above guilting you. It’s not like I’ve ever asked anyone to travel around the world to spend time with me, let alone for a whole month. I can barely stand my own family for a week.”

  I hold the piece of paper to my chest that holds all my hopes and fears. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll leave with me. I don’t want to miss a minute with you.”

  I pause before whispering, “Honestly?”

  He gives me a squeeze. “That depends.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “It’s just a plane ride and a vacation. Don’t make it into anything more.” He pulls out, and I miss him instantly. I roll to my back, and he’s warm everywhere when he covers me. “I’m going to shower. My Uber will be here in a couple of hours. Pack up your laptop and come with me.”

  He kisses me once more and doesn’t give me a chance to say anything else.

  In all his bare beauty, he stalks away from what has become our bed in front of the fire.

  And I fist my open-ended ticket tighter than I have anything ever before.

  Chapter 19

  Logan

  Airport

  My Uber honks.

  Again.

  I’m wearing the same thing I did when I got here, the first time in days I’ve actually worn my own clothes. If I could push back my return to Sydney, I would. Hell, there was a moment in the middle of the night when I woke up and watched her sleeping that I wondered if I would be committing career suicide if I just quit. It’s not like I don’t have headhunters calling me all the time. The offers I’ve gotten from our clients have been even better. I have plenty of money, I could wait out my six-month non-compete and live in the mountains.

  Then I wondered how the headlines would read if I just kidnapped her, whisked her off to Australia for a month, but didn’t do the weird shit that kidnappers do.

  Though, I’m open to other kinds of weird shit.

  The scenarios that ran through my mind were whacked.

  And not one of them included this. My hacker standing in front of me, not packed, not dressed, and definitely not going anywhere, let alone prepped for a twenty-four-hour trip around the world.

  “It’s just a month,” she whispers.

  I want to shake her.

  “We’ll text and we’ll talk. You’ll be back, and we’ll pick up where we left off.”

  I stuff my hands in my pockets. If my hands were free, I know for a fact I’d pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. But I don’t need that kind of attention from the sheriff.

  Plus, I want her to want to be with me as much as I want to be with her. And that has not one thing to do with ego or pride. When it comes to her, I don’t give a shit about that. But for this to be good for her, she needs to do it on her own.

  I’ve decided I’ve never really wanted anything before now. The need for her that’s coursing through my veins right now confirms it.

  I want Demi, and I’ll do whatever I have to do to make that happen.

  Her voice is rough with emotion. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

  The Uber honks. What the fuck, he’s on the clock. I’d give my year-end bonus for a few extra moments with her.

  “Look at you like what?” I ask. If this is it, I can’t not touch her. I close the distance and push her to the wall beside the door. Just like it has since she met me in the snow when I crashed into her tree, my body hums, and my fucking insides ignite for her. I lean down and drag my tongue across her bottom lip. “Like there’s nothing more I’ve ever wanted?”

  “Stop.”

  “Why?” I demand. “If you want to be with someone who will make you feel okay about time apart, you hacked the wrong guy, baby.”

  Her eyes well and overflow, a tear dripping between us. “I’m not used to this.”

  My voice turns to stone. “Don’t you trust me? I’m not that other guy, Demi.”

  Her grip on my shirt tightens. “I know that.”

  “Then don’t treat me like it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  The Uber honks, and as much as I’d pay him to sit there all damn day, I have a flight to catch, and unlike hers, my ticket is not open ended.

  My jaw turns to stone, and I bite my lip. There are so many things I want to say. Hell, what I want to do is beg.

  I press my lips to hers, and they move with mine—with as much desperation as I feel. Why the hell she’s resisting, I have no idea.

  I untangle her fingers from my shirt and can’t look into her hazy blues. This is not the last memory I want of her for a whole month. I kiss her forehead once more, desperate for a last touch, which will not be nearly enough to get me through the next several weeks.

  I say nothing and concentrate on not ripping her old door off the hinges when I leave.

  “Logan,” she calls after me.

  I climb into the back of the Uber and slam the door.

  The driver looks at me through the rearview mirror. “Airport?”

  I nod. “International terminal.”

  He puts the car in drive, and we move over the snow packed streets.

  I don’t look back.

  I don’t dare. I don’t trust myself.

  Chapter 20

  Demi

  Code Red

  I focus on my screen—the same one I’ve been staring at for way too long. My current project is due to the client next week, and I’m not even close to finishing.

  Focus? I don’t know the meaning.

  Sleep? No way.

  Food? I can’t stomach a thing.

  Not even the Christmas cookies my mom sent home with me when we were finally able to celebrate. But following the best Christmas ever, it was painful to be happy. My parents did everything they could to cheer me up. When they kept pressing and pressing, I told them I was just too conflicted for a belated Christmas, when secretly, I wished I was on a whole other continent.

  Logan calls me constantly. He texts multiple times a day. He tells me how much he misses me, what we would be doing if I were there, and asks me the status on my last online date-turned-fiasco, Sam the creeper.

  I assured him Sam has remained out-of-sight, out-of-mind.

  What I don’t tell Logan is how I miss him more than anything and that regret claws at me. It’s digging its talons in deep, becoming more and more painful as the days click on.

  It’s a new year.

  I love the start of a new year. I always have. There’s something beautiful about a fresh start, a new lease on life. New goals, new challenges, and new opportunities.

  But not this year. I’ve fallen into a depression because I think I’ve fucked up my fresh start and stomped on my chance at new opportunities, all because I’m a big, fat chicken.

  I’m so stupid.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Posey stops by, but I refuse to look at her—she can read me like a good romance novel and will know my level of misery is at code red. “I’m afraid I’m going to miss my deadline and I’ve never missed a deadline.”

  “You need a change of scenery. Get dressed. You can grab dinner with me and Eli, then come back with a fresh brain.”

  I shrug, staring at the coding in front of me that would be easier to crack if I could concentrate long enough to follow the paths. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Hey, what’s this?”

  I hear paper crinkle and spin in my office chair. The moment I see her reading my wrinkled open-ended promise, I panic. “Give that to me.”

  She turns to keep it out of my reach. “Is this a plane ticket voucher?”

  “Posey—”

  She turns to me. “To Australia?”

  I step back and cross my arms.

  She tosses the piece of paper to my desk. At this point, I’m surprised it’s readable. I’ve crumpled it, thrown it away, dug it from the trash, slept with it, agonized over it, and might’ve shed a couple of tears on it.

  Not that I’m being dramatic or anything.

  “You made it sound like your Christmas romp with the Force of Nature was a one-off. But heartbreak is written all over your face, and I’m pretty sure you’ve been crying on that ticket.”

  Shit, I guess dry tears really do show on paper.

  “What did that asshole do to you?” Posey demands.

  I’m quick to shake my head. “Nothing. And he’s the farthest thing from an asshole. He’s sweet and perfect—in every way. His brother and brother-in-law created that profile as a joke. That and the fact that you swiped it when neither of us were interested in meeting anyone is surreal.”

  She motions to the ticket that continues to taunt me with promises of … a future? “And he wants you to go to Australia with him? He bought you a ticket?”

  I take a deep breath. “Yes.”

  She spears me with a glare. “And you’re still here? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You know me.” I shrug, because there’s no other explanation needed.

  Her eyes soften, and she moves across the room. I’m taken aback, because I find myself in the arms of my childhood friend who is not a hugger. “I love you, Demi.”

  I give her a squeeze. “Love you too.”

  But she jerks back, grips my shoulders, and her face turns hard. “But you’re an idiot. There aren’t enough men on this mountain for you to hang around here forever. You can do your sneaky, hacker shit from anywhere. You’re one of the smartest people I know, but sometimes you can be blind. So now you’re going to sit around here, miserable, waiting for Sambal the freak to try and make another move on you?”

  “Hell, no.” I pull away from her and cross my arms. “Just … yuck. How can you even say that?”

  “Because that’s what you’re doing. For you, sticking your toe outside of your comfort zone is like eating chips over your keyboard.” I cringe. Crumbs and technology do not play well. There’s nothing more disgusting than a dirty keyboard. Her eyes widen, and her hands hit her hips. “See?”

  “Okay, fine. It freaks me out. Are you happy?”

  She hitches a foot.

  “What?” I demand.

  She narrows her eyes and studies me. Then, she nods slowly.

  “Stop it,” I say. “You’re freaking me out.”

  Then, she moves.

  I turn as she brushes past me in a rush. “Wait. Where are you going?”

  She doesn’t answer as she heads straight to my bedroom. When I get there, she’s dragging my suitcase out from beneath my bed.

  “What the hell?”

  She talks as she moves. “We need to work fast. I have plans with Eli, but I’d be a shit friend if I allowed you to sit here on this mountain alone and wallow in your depression.”

  She digs through my drawers, dumping loads of panties, bras, and all my favorite clothes, made up of mostly athleisure, since I work from home.

  “If you want anything in particular for the next month, I suggest you lend a hand. I’ve got three hours. That’s enough time for me to dump you at the airport and be back to Eli.” She stands and turns to me. “Get your passport. I have no clue where that is, but you’re gonna need it.”

  “Posey—”

  She jams random shit into my suitcase and turns to me. “Look, you’ll thank me. On the small chance this doesn’t work out, think of it as a short vacation to a country you’d never go to on your own. But if it does work out, I’ll be toasting you at your wedding and again at your fiftieth anniversary. You can thank me then.”

  I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

  “Demi.” Her tone is firm, yet loving. “I’ve known you your whole life. You’re not a dumbass, you just need a push. This is me giving you one.”

  I think of Logan and the look on his face when I turned him down. I think about the days we spent together.

  “Get your passport, girl.”

  I think about his phone calls ever since. And my new state of depression.

  What the hell am I doing to myself? What am I doing to Logan?

  I exhale and whisper, “Okay. I’m going to Australia.”

  A grin creeps over her beautiful face. “Hell, yeah, you are. And we’re leaving in ten. I’ve got a new man I need to get back to. That blizzard was the best thing to happen to us.”

  Holy shit.

  I’m doing this.

  I’m going to Australia … to Logan.