“Damn right.”
They drove in silence, the headlights barely illuminating the road through the near whiteout conditions. As they started up the steep climb to his neighborhood, the engine strained as the car plowed through the deepening snow.
“This storm came in fast and hard.”
“No doubt.” She tossed him a quick glance as they reached the top of the hill. “Which way?”
“Take Big Pine. I’m way down at the end. The house backs up to the forest.”
“Nice. I bet you have a killer view of the lake.”
“That’s why I bought the place.” He stroked along Winnie’s back as she turned on his lap to press her nose against the window. “The next driveway is mine. Damn, looks like I need to get out the snow blower.”
“Not going to happen tonight.” Her Subaru bumped into the drive, and she stopped before the closed garage door. “At least there isn’t a berm since the plow hasn’t come by yet.”
He shifted to pull his phone out of his pocket then pushed a couple of buttons. The door rose slowly.
“You can park inside since my pickup is still at Squaw.”
“That’ll make getting out easier for you with a sprained ankle.” She nosed into the garage then turned off the engine. “Why didn’t they send you home with at least one crutch?”
“I have a pair from a broken leg a few years ago.”
“Figures.” She let out a long breath. “We made it. I was beginning to wonder.”
The big door rumbled shut behind them. An automatic overhead light illuminated the large, white-walled space.
“You’re good at driving in the snow. Steady and sure with no overreactions.”
“That’s me. I’ve never been a drama queen.” She stepped out of the car then hurried around to his side to open the door. “I’ll help you into the house. Get down, Winnie.”
Her dog jumped to the concrete floor then set off to sniff the workbench set up in the front. A dozen or more pairs of skis stood in tall racks, and a long stack of wood filled the area near the door leading into the house.
Tripp stood, holding on to the roof of the car with his left hand. “God, I hate being so helpless.”
She slid in beside him to wrap an arm around his waist, enjoying the warmth emanating from his hard, muscled back beneath the sweatshirt. “Hey, everyone needs to lean on someone now and then. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times your family propped me up over the years.”
He headed slowly toward the door. “I sure didn’t. What did the rest of the clan do for you?”
“They were simply there, including me in whatever was going on, making me feel welcome.” Her throat tightened. “Like I belonged somewhere.” She pushed open the door into blessed warmth. “Careful.”
Winnie brushed past them and headed inside.
“She acts like she owns the place. Typical.”
He flipped on a light to reveal a combination laundry and mud room with a stone floor and a carved wooden bench. Tripp dropped down onto it to pull off his boots. Hannah followed suit.
He glanced her way and rolled his eyes. “Some moron put white carpeting in the living room. One of these days, I’ll get around to replacing it. Until then, I take off my shoes.”
She grinned. “I can do that. Let’s go get you settled.”
He grunted as he stood. “I feel like an old man. This sucks.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Sorry, no more bitching.”
“If it makes you feel better, swear up a storm. Believe me, in my line of work, I’ve heard it all.”
“I bet. Athletes in pain are undoubtedly a vocal lot, but I’ll try to control myself. This way.”
He headed through a kitchen gleaming with granite and stainless steel, flipping on lights as he went, past the dining area with a long walnut table and down a step into the living room with the dreaded white carpet. Floor-to-ceiling windows faced what Hannah guessed was a gorgeous view of Lake Tahoe. Currently, the only thing visible was a blur of white swirling through the dark sky.
He sank onto a smoke-gray sectional couch and propped his injured foot up on a wood and glass coffee table. “Damn, it feels good to be home.” When Winnie crossed the carpet and jumped up beside him, he smiled. “Your dog seems to approve.”
“Get down!”
“Leave her.” Tripp laid a hand on Winnie’s back. “I don’t mind.”
Hannah narrowed her eyes on the pair. “This is why she thinks she’s the queen of the world. I’ll go get my bag.”
After bringing in her overnight case along with the dog supplies, she stopped in the kitchen to search the cherry wood cabinets for a glass to fill with water. Shaking a pill out of the prescription bottle, she headed back to the living room. “Here. Take this.”
He complied without argument. “Thanks.”
“You need to eat. Any ideas?”
“I made lasagna a couple of nights ago.” He leaned back against the cushions. “There’s quite a bit left, and you’ll find salad stuff in the crisper drawer.”
Her brows shot up. “You made lasagna?”
“What? I like to cook.”
“Aren’t you full of surprises?”
He reached out to squeeze her arm. “Good ones, I hope.”
A little thrill shot through her as she studied him for a long moment. Tripp was completely wiped out if the way he’d practically melted into the couch was any indication. Yet, there was still a hint of sparkle in his eyes and a flirtatious quirk to his lips. Hannah guessed he never completely turned off the charm. Men like him, ones who cared only about a woman’s appearance and not about her substance, usually left her cold. But for some reason, she wasn’t completely immune. She should know better.
She cleared her throat and stepped away. “So far so good, but the night’s young. You still might morph into Mr. Hyde before the evening is over.”
“Will you run screaming into the night if I do?”
“Lucky for you, I’ve dealt with worse. I don’t scare easily.”
“Good, because I could get used to having you around. Hannah?”
“What?”
“Thanks.”
The sincerity shining in his eyes took a chunk out of the protective wall around her heart. She’d have to be very careful around this man if she didn’t want to get hurt. Again.
“You’re welcome.”
Chapter 3
Leaning against the kitchen sink, Tripp froze with the water glass halfway to his lips. Holy shit!
The storm had let up, and a full moon rode high in the sky, shining over the lake to illuminate everything in its path…including the woman who stood before the French doors leading from the dining room out onto the deck. Hannah wore something thin and floaty. Her silhouette was clearly visible in the silvery light. Long legs, rounded hips, the barest hint of a curve at her belly, full breasts with pearled tips… He swallowed hard. The ache in his shoulder couldn’t compare to the sudden throbbing in his groin.
Down, boy.
This was Hannah, his sister’s best friend, his soon-to-be