HOW TO CATCH A BAD BOY

Chandler smiled. “You can say it now.”

Elena looked over at him. Her face was pale and drawn. “Say what?”

Lifting his eyebrows, he waved a hand at the windshield.

“Ahh.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll save the I told you so for when we’re safely inside his place.”

The back end of the car fishtailed when he turned down the long driveway.

Knowing not to overcorrect, because the last thing he wanted was to end up sliding off the drive and down the slight ditch that he knew lined the first fifty feet or so, he lessened the pressure of his hands on the wheel until the vehicle righted itself. Now that they were protected slightly by the trees that crowded Paul’s property, the visibility increased to something more manageable than it had been on the roads leading them here.

“You gonna miss anything important tomorrow?” Chandler asked her.

Elena rubbed her forehead. “Not really. I don’t have any orders booked.” She groaned. “Emily will probably be freaking out though.”

Visions of her sister bearing down on him had him shivering. But staying at Paul’s place and risking her wrath for one night was preferable to attempting any stupid-ass drive back home too soon.

“I can’t believe how fast this hit,” he said. The peak of the A-frame cabin came into view, and the band of tension around his chest relaxed even further. All he had to do was navigate the long, slight curve to his driveway where there were no tracks to follow. Using the bend in the trees as his guide, Chandler pushed them forward through the snow, easily six to seven inches deep given that it was untouched.

When the tires, without snow chains, spun at his acceleration, he cursed. Mightily.

“I can’t believe you’re so afraid to drive in the snow,” she teased unexpectedly.

Amazing how it loosened their tongues to have shelter in sight, even if they’d be stuck with freaking Agnes, who’d probably claw their eyes out the second they walked in.

“I’m not afraid to drive in the snow.” Chandler gave her a look as he pulled up as close to the cabin as the drifting snow would allow him. “But I didn’t exactly want to slide off the road when I have you to think about.”

“Like I told you before… You’re a closet sweetheart, Chandler.”

“And I already told you that I am no such thing,” he replied.

He finally stopped the car and noticed that Elena was smiling.

“Stop it.”

It spread even further, wide enough that her white, even teeth showed behind her pink lips. And against the blinding white of the snow, with her dark hair and deep brown eyes, she looked like Snow White.

He huffed. “Let’s just go inside, okay?”

“Okay.”

“The snow will be deep. Do you want me to carry you in so you don’t get your shoes wet?”

Elena smiled again. “How sweet,”

“Fine. Get your shoes wet, get your pants wet, get hypothermia, see if I care.” He leaned toward her. “Don’t come to me in the middle of the night and beg me to warm you up when your body temperature drops because you are doing that thing where you ignore my practical, logical offer, princess.”

“I’ll risk it,” she said quietly. “But thank you for being so practical and logical and not sweet.”

Chandler rolled his eyes. “Overkill but you’re welcome. You wait here. I’ll make sure the key works first.”NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.

After trudging his way through the snow and up onto the equally snowy deck, he peered inside the dark cabin to make sure Agnes wasn’t sitting in waiting, claws unsheathed and fangs bared.

Underneath the overhang of the A-frame, there was a large stack of firewood, which made him breathe a bit more easily. At least they would stay warm overnight until they could head home the next day. To the right of the wood was a heavy-duty shovel.

“God bless you, Paul,” he murmured.

Quickly, he shoveled the area by the door clear so snow wouldn’t fall into the cabin as soon as he opened it. The key worked easily, despite the metal of the lock being cold as shit. Knowing they could get in, he turned and shoveled a single strip so she’d have a clear path once she got on the deck.

And he wasn’t doing it to be sweet, but he just didn’t want her to have soaked socks when she got in. He turned and waved her in. While she grabbed her backpack and pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up over her hair, Chandler thought about why it bothered him so damn much that she’d said that.

Maybe because he didn’t want Elena to look at him like he was a sweetheart.

People called Elijah sweet all the time, and if that wasn’t the kiss of death to getting laid, he didn’t know what was.

He’d been reminded his entire life that Elijah was the superior specimen in every way that mattered to their parents, and even though he’d moved on from being bothered by it, he didn’t want to be lumped into his category either.

As Elena hopped onto the deck and made her way along the path he’d shoveled for her, he knew that being stuck with her in this cabin would undeniably be worse than that being in his family house. There, they had to worry about other people, but now they were going to be completely alone. She could be herself. He could be himself.

And they had nowhere to go while she sat there categorizing him as a harmless, fluffy teddy bear.

“Brrrr,” she said as she huddled next to him. “That wind is frigid.”

Chandler shoved the door open and motioned her in. “Let’s go. I’ll get a fire going.”

She preceded him into the dark cabin, lit only by a small lamp along the small stretch of kitchen counter. Of course, Paul left a light on for that damn cat.

When he shut the door, Elena blew out a hard breath. “This is …”

“Tiny?” he supplied.

She exhaled a laugh. “Yeah.”

Paul’s cabin was one room, kitchen counter stretching along the back, a bathroom tucked next to it without much more than a serviceable shower, toilet, and sink crammed into the small room. Separating the sitting area was a tiny, beat-up table with two chairs tucked against it.