“You’re not my boss.”
Despite how pissed off I am, my lips twitch with humor. “Actually, I am. So it’s settled. You’ll stay here.”
I open my door once again, hoping that my abrupt ending to the conversation will deter her from her stupid idea to follow me to what I hope is a town.
The car shuts off. I turn to figure out what the fuck she’s up to when her passenger door opens. She steps out, holding her arms close to her body in an attempt to keep warm. She dangles the keys in the air, her hair blowing all over the place from the wind.
“We’ve got to lock it since we’ll be gone.”
“Get back in the car, Margo!” I yell into the whistling wind.
She fucking ignores me. The lights blink twice, indicating that she’s locked the car before she starts walking down the side of the road in the direction of the lights.
My dress shoes slip in the snow as I rush toward her. “Margo,” I hiss, catching up to her.
She ignores me, her eyes trained on the lights ahead of her.
“Stop ignoring me,” I demand.
Snow hits the both of us in the face. We might as well fucking freeze out in this storm. And it’s completely unnecessary for her to freeze right along with me. She should’ve stayed in the car.
“Then stop trying to tell me what to do,” she yells against the wind.
“Now’s not the time for you to be fucking stubborn,” I seethe. Her shoulders have already begun to shake from the cold. With the way the wind beats down on both of us, it should be only minutes before her lips turn blue.
She continues her trek down the road. I don’t think the pair of fuzzy boots on her feet are much better footwear for the snow than my dress shoes. I’d let her know of that fact if she wasn’t so hellbent on ignoring me.
With a loud groan of anger—at myself and at her—I rip my coat off and eat the distance between us. Without warning, I shove the coat over her shoulders, trying to pull it up and around her ears so at least she’ll be a little more warm.
“What are you doing?”
Without the coat, the wind cuts right through my suit jacket and thin button up. I try to hide how fucking cold it is. It doesn’t matter. I’d strip completely fucking naked in this storm if it meant she’d be even slightly warmer.
“If you’re not going to listen, then I’m at least going to try and keep you from freezing to death.”
“What about you?”
“Should’ve thought about that before you insisted on following me.” Stuffing my hands in my pockets in an attempt to keep them warm, I head down the road, knowing she’ll follow closely behind me.
As the lights get closer and closer, I can’t help but become even more pissed off with myself for the decisions I’ve made today.
The Uggs on my feet are sopping wet as we step through the doors of the small inn. I feel like a wet dog, every inch of my clothing cold and sticking to my body as we make our way to the person waiting for us at the front desk.
The old woman sitting behind the counter gives us a warm smile, tucking the book she was reading into her lap. She pulls off a pair of hot pink readers. “Oh dear,” she says with a worried expression, taking in both of our disheveled appearances. “Did you get stuck in the storm?”
We give each other a look, the two of us still hot inside from our fight. Beck’s lips press into a thin line as he looks back at her. “You could say that,” he says, his voice low.
“It’s a lot of snow for November,” the woman muses, nowhere near deterred by the growly tone of Beck’s voice.
Beck grunts, tapping his fingers against the counter. He looks at me briefly from the corner of his eye. I bite back a snarky comment about the numerous warnings I gave him about the snowstorm. I’d warned him they’d shut down the roads and overpasses if it got too bad. It’s not my fault we’re in this situation.
“Are you needing a room for the night?” she straightens the glasses on her nose, warmth in her eyes despite Beck’s continued grumpiness.
“We’ll need two rooms. The two most expensive ones you have.”
The woman clicks her tongue. “I’m sorry sir, because of the snow we only have one room…” She looks between us, uneasiness finally starting to seep over her features.
“Fine,” he snaps. I want to chastise him for the tone of his voice with her. It isn’t her fault he decided he was a weather expert. Stupid, stubborn man.
He aims a dirty look in my direction. For a split second, I wonder if he can read my thoughts. He looks away from me, pinning his angry stare on the nice woman. “As long as it has two beds, we’ll take whatever you’ve got.”
She turns around, taking a set of keys off a nail behind her. “We have our honeymoon suite left. The people who’d reserved it for their honeymoon’s flight got canceled.” She jingles the keys in front of her. “Lucky for you,” she adds, her tone chipper once again.
Dread settles in my stomach. Beck must be coming to the same realization as me. The honeymoon suite doesn’t strike me as a room that has two beds.
He clears his throat, taking the keys from her hand. “The honeymoon suite has two beds?”
She shakes her head. “No, dear, only one. It’s rather large though if you’re waiting for marriage or you know”—she looks between us awkwardly—“need some space between you and your girlfriend.”
I cough, choking on my spit in embarrassment. It might be a slight tinge of amusement too because oh my god is Beckham Sinclair blushing?
“Are there any other inns or hotels around that would possibly have something with two rooms? Nothing against this place, but my assistant here and I need two beds.”
“I’m afraid not. There’s a few in the heart of Sutten, but I don’t think there’s any transportation that could get you there.”
I lay my hand on his bicep, taking in the frigid fabric of his button up. The starched, freezing cold fabric seems almost frozen to his body. “It’s fine.” I try to keep my voice calm. “We’ll figure it out.”
His nostrils flare as he stares me down. I’d give anything to know what’s going on in his head. He’d been so angry with me earlier, the two of us bickering more than an old married couple. Now he doesn’t look as angry, but there’s another emotion I just can’t get a read on. He shoves the keys into his pocket and then pulls out his wallet. He lets out a resigned sigh. “We’ll take it.”
I bite back the urge to tell him he shouldn’t sound so put out with the thought of sharing a bed with me. He’s told me various times all the ways he wants to fuck me, so clearly he doesn’t find me disgusting. I’d gladly share a bed with him if it meant my toes would thaw and I could get out of these freezing clothes.
Speaking of, I lean over the counter and smile softly at her. “Is there any chance you have a gift shop here or anything where we can buy new clothes? I’m desperate for something warm and not completely saturated in freezing cold water.”
She finishes writing something in a small little journal of hers, running Beck’s credit card and handing it back to him. “We sure do, hon. Let me take you to it. This inn is run by my husband and I. He’s out making sure the snow doesn’t make us lose any power so I can get you taken care of in the shop as well.”