“Get behind me, Rick. Let’s do this thing.”

She looked so cute, all ready to fight her way out of the hotel, even though it was clear Lana was completely freaked out. Which was why Rick decided then and there, if he was ever going to get married again (which he wasn’t) or found himself falling in love again (which he shouldn’t), he was going to pick a woman like her.

“While I appreciate the sentiment,” he told her, “I don’t think freezing to death is better than being made into sausage.”

“Oh, it is. Trust me, the only casing I’m going into is the Spanx in my closet.” She turned back to the door. “Freezing is the far superior option.”

“Or—and hear me out on this one—we could put down the poker and play poker instead. I saw a deck of cards in the lobby.”

“Lobby is too generous.” With a sigh, she sat next to him, still holding the fire poker.

Rick straightened because it was hard to pretend to be relaxed when her hip was mere inches from his own.

The door banged open, revealing Carl in all his glory with an armful of towels, and Rick had the absolute wonder of finding himself with Lana jumping three feet in the air like a startled cat, landing on his lap. A frightened Lana didn’t scream, and her hair was in his face so he couldn’t see hers, but Rick had the feeling she had placed herself in between the threat and him for the second time that night.

A warm feeling of amusement filled him. Still, he wanted to show Lana that he didn’t need her protection. Not from Carl anyway. Silas…possibly. The solid weight of her on his lap? Definitely. But not from Carl and his towels.

Rick wrapped his arm tight around her waist, then shifted her over enough so he could see.

“That was unexpected,” he said. “Maybe try knocking next time?”

“These are towels.” Carl stared at them, not blinking.

Yes. Yes, they were.

“Ma said we turn the lights out at nine. I put the other set in the other room.”

“There were dolls,” Rick told him. “We only need this one.”

If Carl cared, he certainly didn’t show it. Instead, he grumbled all the way back to the door, then slammed it shut.

“How did he walk so quiet on the floor out there, but now he’s making so much noise?” Lana asked in a whisper.

“You probably couldn’t hear him because of the sausage grinder.”

Lana shuddered. “Rick, I think we should leave.”

“In the snowstorm?”

“We’re going to be made into sausage. I’d make a terrible sausage. Do you know how much body fat percentage I have? Because sausages are supposed to be twenty-five percent, and I have at least twenty-eight percent. Maybe more. I’m probably closer to thirty, because these things are not pure muscle.”

When she stuffed a thumb into her breast and poked it a few times for emphasis, Rick’s brain tried very hard not to notice.

“How do you know the fat content of sausage?”

“Everyone knows that, Rick. Everyone knows.” Her voice was taking a panicked tone, which would have been more alarming if her thumb had changed places. But nope. Still poking, giving her a somewhat squashy lopsided appearance on that side.

He’d never been aroused by a squashed breast before, especially not when the owner of said breast was frightened, but Rick was only human, and she was…well…in that dress. On his lap. And it had been a long time since his lap had entertained anything other than a cereal bowl or his cat’s abject disapproval.

“You’d make an even worse sausage,” she continued, “Because let’s be honest, you don’t have an ounce of fat on your body. Which would be sexier if I didn’t think it was because you don’t eat enough. That’s probably my fault. I’m charging you way too much rent, and you can’t afford to eat, and now they won’t make you into sausage, and you’ll probably end up strips of Rick jerky covered with too much pepper or not enough teriyaki and—”

Okeydokey. Watching her have a mild coronary event was not in the plan for this date. Rick took her hands so she stopped poking a hole in one of the most appealing breasts he’d ever seen.

“Lana, breathe.”

The sausage grinder’s choice to make several loud squealing noises at the time did not help his case. Her eyes widened, so Rick pulled her in closer.

“I can afford to feed myself,” Rick said. “Rent’s high because rent’s always high in Alaska. No one is making jerky out of me, and they’re definitely not going to make sausage out of you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because even I don’t have bad enough luck for that to happen on the first date I’ve been on in years.” Rick wondered if it was too much to ask that she keep leaning into him like that. “But…on the off chance that we are actually in a slasher movie, what’s the plan here?”

“That’s not funny,” Lana said with a cute pout.

“I wasn’t joking.”

Yes, he was totally joking, but it took her a moment to realize it. Then she grinned. Not the breezy smile he hated—the one covering what she really thought and felt—but her real smile. The one that made his blood sing in his veins.

Slender fingers reached up to touch his cheek, and Rick found himself leaning into the contact. “The plan is we’ll take over the dining room and set up our defensive perimeter,” Lana said conspiratorially. “With a squirrel army at our backs, we’ll definitely last until morning.”

“As long as one of us knows what they’re doing.” Rick winked at her.

Silence fell between them, a silence where Rick desperately wanted to say the right thing, but all he could focus on was how good her hair smelled and how soft it felt brushing along his arm.

“I haven’t really done this whole dating thing in a while,” he admitted in a rough voice. “It’s like being benched for forever and abruptly finding yourself up to bat with bases loaded.”

“If you’re going to make sports analogies, I much prefer football. And trust me, as far as my dates go, this is much better than most.”

“Are we still calling this a date?”

“Huddled together for safety in a hotel of horrors?” Lana asked, her bright eyes full of mischief. “Absolutely.”

Her lashes were long enough to brush her cheeks. How had he never noticed before?

“My last actual date was with a masseuse last July,” she said. “It wasn’t much to speak of.”

“I haven’t kissed a woman since my ex. I probably don’t even remember how.”

“Twelve months.” When he raised an eyebrow, Lana clarified. “It’s been twelve months since I kissed someone. Last New Year’s.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“It wasn’t even one of the good kisses. Too much teeth, not enough…not teeth.”

“Not teeth is important when kissing.”

“And yet someone never told him.” Sighing with playful dramatics, she rested her palm against his stomach. “If I had known it would be so long, I might have tried to enjoy it more.”

A comfortable silence fell between them, but that silence was punctuated by the metal of the roof creaking as it contracted in the freezing temperatures.

“The rest of me is fine, but my fingers simply refuse to warm up.”

“Body heat is better than thin blankets,” he said.

“And evil sausage grinders?”

“You’re the one who thought this would make a great story.” Rick chuckled.

“Story, yes. For grandchildren and the like. Not to be on the local news. I can see it now. Two new lovers found ground to death in squirrel mausoleum. Try the stroganoff. The mystery meat is delicious.”

Rick gently squeezed her waist. “Will it help if I promise I won’t let anyone chop us up to bits?”

“It won’t hurt.” She sighed, then snuggled into his shoulder. “Rick?”

“Hmm?”

“This was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m completely serious.” Brown eyes gazed up at him. “Do you want to know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you cared enough to keep driving.”

Beauty was more than skin deep. Beauty was a kind heart and hands willing to help, no matter how dirty they got. Beauty was a quick grin and eyes that noticed everyone in a room. Noticed and cared about everyone, no matter who they were.

Eyes that saw him, when he’d been sitting in the background of his life for far too long.

“Can I—” Pausing midquestion, Rick cleared his throat. Bless the woman for not making him finish his sentence. Lana nodded in encouragement.

Heart hammering in his chest, breath caught in his lungs, Rick leaned in. He wasn’t sure what he expected…maybe a slap to the face, despite her arm wrapped around the back of his neck. Instead, he found soft lips, warm despite the cool air. Just the slightest of pressure, his mouth to hers. Pulling away, Rick glanced at her.

“See? I promised I wouldn’t bite.”

“Not yet anyway. I’m sorry.” Lana nodded, kind enough not to mock him for his trembling hands. “Guess I need some more practice.”

“Or more time?” she asked gently.

“No. I’ve had more than enough of time.”

It had been too long since Rick had taken a woman in his arms, holding her close. And he never would have expected this woman to be the one. He felt outclassed, outmatched, and beyond overwhelmed. But when he slid his palm up her back, Lana leaned against him, melting into his touch. When his fingers threaded into her hair, the silky strands clinging to his wrist, this time, she kissed him.

Deepening the kiss, Rick relaxed back against the bedding, drawing her with him. The scent of her subtle perfume was almost as intoxicating as the warmth of her body beneath his hands. He could have stayed like this forever, her ankle hooked around his, her arm hugging his rib cage, as if she needed to hold him as much as he needed to hold her. Each touch of her lips against his was even better than the last.