he did—so much more. So if she wouldn’t say no, he had to say it: he had to look out for her when her own bravery would have her rush in without counting the cost.
He found the trunk and then had to grope along it to find the lock. His bare hands had stung at first in the cold, like they were being pricked all over with needles, and now they were starting to go numb. It took him three tries to feel out where the lock was and then three more tries to actually get the key into it, he was shaking so badly.
And once he got the trunk open, he had trouble making out what was inside it. The snow was still blowing into his face, making his eyes water, and leaning in too far made it feel like the stab wounds had turned into red-hot irons. He couldn’t be sure what he was looking at, but he could at least see shapes, so he grabbed all of them that he could carry and then slammed the trunk closed.
He made his way back to the passenger side door leaning against the car and sliding along it at an angle, the better to make sure his hands stayed full and he didn’t drop anything. He felt something sliding between his fingers when he had to struggle with the door, but then it was creaking open against him, and he realized Gretchen had leaned over and opened it from her side.
Getting back into the warmth—getting back to her—felt like heaven.
Which was exactly why he had to be careful. He would make a mistake here, a mistake they both wanted him to make, if he let himself slip for even a second.
“Brr,” he said, letting out an awkward laugh. “I don’t know if you know this, but it’s a little nippy out there.”
“It looks brisk,” Gretchen said. She started the ignition again, sending a very welcome blast of fresh heat across him.
“Kind of chilly.” He rubbed his hands together to try to warm them up, and when he got a little bit of feeling back in his fingers, he started actually examining his haul.
It wasn’t exactly a complete survivalist’s kit, but it was close.
Gretchen slid over closer to him, a wide smile finally chasing some of the lingering shadows out of her face. She was putting aside his little disappearing act, then. At least for now.
“God, I love you, Martin,” she said.
Cooper fought off a completely ridiculous surge of jealousy. Firstly because it was absurd and secondly because, hell, right now he loved Martin too.
One fluffy flannel blanket. Two bottles of water. A first aid kit. Chemical hand-warmers. Granola bars, loaded with peanuts for protein and chocolate chips for extra glucose. A spare cellphone charger. A heavy-duty flashlight with extra batteries. And a jug of—
“Is that cat litter?” Cooper said, baffled. “Does he have a cat?”
She shook her head. “You pour it out on the road, on an icy patch that you can’t get around. It gives you better traction.”
“I would never have thought of that.”
“I’m pretty sure he picked it up from Colby—Colby Acton, he’s another Marshal on our team. He grew up in California, and I don’t think he’s ever gotten over being mortally offended at snow. He knows all the tips for driving on ice.”
“I know you turn into the skid,” Cooper offered.
“And?”
“That’s it.”
“Okay. I’m definitely not letting you drive, then.” She offered him a granola bar and a bottle of water and then dug into her bag and came up with the cookies Martin had given her. “We’ve got these too. They won’t be very good, but they’ll at least have more chocolate. More sweet chocolate,” she added, forestalling any attempt he was going to make to bring up the bar she’d given him.
She was right about the cookies—they were scorched on the bottom—but they were still better than any food he’d had back at Stridmont.
With her, he thought, it would always be a little easier to taste sweetness. She’d always be more powerful than the bitterness, even if he couldn’t figure out how to explain that to her.
The idea made his eyes burn, and he turned away. He couldn’t even look out the window: they were now completely cocooned in snow.
“What is it?” Gretchen said.
Keeping a secret with her only a few inches away from him suddenly seemed ludicrous. She was too perceptive to miss that he was hiding something, so if he kept his mouth