Christmas Griffin - Zoe Chant Page 0,27

his own shame.

He just needed some time alone. God, please, he begged silently. His griffin tucked itself into an unhappy ball. All he needed was a week, tops. Then he would be able to think straight.

Just a week.

His head hurt.

And the blizzard was getting worse.

Chapter Thirteen

Delphine

It was like some sort of horrible logic puzzle. If the cabin has three rooms, and one of them is a bathroom and the total size of the building is less than fifty square feet, how long until either Hardwick or Delphine decide to go outside and freeze to death rather than spend another moment in each other’s company.

The afternoon crept by. Hardwick emerged from the bedroom to put another frozen pizza in the oven, and the meal that followed was the most awkward dinner she’d experienced since Pebbles brought home her bird of paradise shifter mate.

Hardwick looked after the dishes afterwards. Delphine considered taking a leaf out of his book and hiding in the bedroom until he was done but reconsidered. Over-exposure might be a better cure for how she was feeling than avoidance.

The cabin had a small shelf of well-thumbed books. Louis L’Amour, Dick Francis, a few other authors she’d never heard of whose book covers were promisingly full of suave men with guns and tropical palms. She grabbed one at random and curled up on the sofa. If she was stuck here until the weather cleared with a man who couldn’t make it more obvious that he didn’t want her around, she could at least read some good old-fashioned airport novels.

She cracked the book open. It started well. Someone got murdered, there was an explosion, and the characters were talking about cell phones like they were some sort of far-future technology.

Murder... explosion... tech...

It took Delphine ten minutes to realize she’d been staring at the same page for significantly longer than ten minutes.

Hardwick was still at the kitchen sink. If he scrubbed the dishes any harder, there wasn’t going to be anything left.

Hardwick was leaning over the kitchen bench. His shirt was stretched over his shoulders, outlining sharp shoulder blades and the lean curve of his back.

She imagined he would look the same if she was wedged against the bench in front of him. Face up, kissing him, or face down, straining around to capture as much of his skin with her lips as she could as he pinned her down.

It wasn’t just her cheeks anymore. Every inch of her skin was seared with heat.

She glared at her book.

At last he finished. Delphine, who was definitely still reading, tensed.

And Hardwick went straight into the bedroom.

She closed her eyes and bit off a groan.

The blizzard couldn’t end soon enough.

She made scones again the next morning. Not so she could sneak some time in the same room as Hardwick before he woke up. Not at all. She just needed to work out some frustration.

Scones were not the perfect thing for working out one’s frustrations.

They came out more like bricks than cheesy, flakey delights.

At least they’re a perfect match for the coffee, she thought glumly.

They ate in silence. Painful, awkward silence. Delphine had never been so aware of being alone inside her own head, not even when she was surrounded by her family.

“If the weather improves—” she began.

“I can take you to a friend’s house.” Hardwick’s eyes were fixed on his plate. “I’ve been thinking about it. He lives a way out of town, but not too far. You can tell your family that you flew in and stopped there so that you wouldn’t risk anyone from town seeing you.”

Delphine couldn’t believe what she was hearing. And she got the impression Hardwick couldn’t believe what he was saying, either. His voice was flat, as though the words were being dragged unwillingly out of him.

“Your friend?” she asked. She’d met most of Pine Valley’s shifters the Christmas before.

“Jackson. He’s a good man. He’ll help you out, I’m sure of it.”

“Jackson Gilles?”

When Hardwick nodded, she gave a weak smile. “That’s… perfect. I work for his father, so it all fits together… perfectly.”

Except for the bit where she was leaving him.

She coughed. Something in her chest fluttered, and for a moment, just behind her eyes, she saw something like a flickering candlelight. She blinked rapidly until it went away.

Across the table, Hardwick’s frown had deepened. He rubbed his chest with a grimace. “What a coincidence.”

“He’s the one who brought me to Pine Valley in the first place.” If he hadn’t…

“Great. Let’s keep that plan in mind, then.” He stood