He took another bite of oatmeal, all the bitterness in his brain affecting the taste and turning the strawberries sour, as he watched Shelby—her hood down now—try to shovel out a subcompact. The wind pushed back her hood, whipped at her short hair, and turned the tips of her ears red. The snow went past the tops of her snow boots and nearly up to her knees as she worked to clear a path for her itty-bitty car.

How in the hell had that speck of a car managed to make it up the mountain in the first place? There was no way with all the additional snow, which was starting to come down in ever faster waves, it would be safe for her to attempt the twisty roads. He couldn’t let her do that. It was too dangerous. He was up and out of his seat before he knew what in the hell he could do about the situation. Then a gust of wind strong enough to make the roof rattle blasted the mountain. The falling snow went sideways, the trees bent under the pressure, and a large limb snapped off, slicing through a power line before hitting Shelby and sending her flying back onto her ass in the snow.

He was out the door before her shocked scream sounded, racing toward her like he was on a breakaway.

…

One second Shelby was lost in a snowdrift, her upper arm aching, and the next she was tucked securely against Ian’s chest as he carried her inside the cabin. Even with as fast as they were hustling up the steps to the porch, her being buffeted by unyielding biceps and pecs, she didn’t move a millimeter.

“What are you doing?” The words were barely out of her mouth before her brain clocked how dumb they were, but Ian smelled good, like, really good, and it was distracting as hell.

Her senses must be heightened by her near brush with getting beaned by a tree limb the size of a Louisville Slugger. Why else would she be noticing that warm, spicy scent that clung to him? Or that he had a very nice chin under his dark scruff, and his eyelashes were a billion miles long? The tingly, breathy thing she had going on right now, making her chest tight, was no doubt left over from the adrenaline rush of dodging the limb mixed with the oh-shit-that’s-cold jolt from landing in the snowbank. That had to be the reason why she didn’t demand to be put down and instead had asked such a duh question.

“I’m helping you,” he said, gaze forward, body stiff.

“Why?”

He turned sideways and used his hip to nudge the front door the rest of the way open. “Because I’m not a total dick, and you’re hurt.”