Just One Kiss (Whisper Lake #4) - Barbara Freethy Page 0,2

same amount of passion.

"What do you think happened?" she snapped. "I got a flat."

"What are you doing out here?"

"Our cabin has a hot water problem."

"Hannah to the rescue," he said with a slight smile. "Want some help with that tire?"

She really wanted help, but she hated taking anything from him. On the other hand, it was about to snow, and she wasn't stupid even if she was hanging on to a very old grudge. "Yes, I'd like help." She opened her trunk and the compartment where the spare tire should be, only to find herself staring at an empty spot. She suddenly remembered her mother telling her about the flat she'd gotten three months earlier when she'd borrowed her car. "Damn, my mom never put the spare back. I'll have to call for help."

"If you can get through. Do you have a signal?"

She checked her phone once more. "No."

"Why don't I give you a ride to the cabin? I'm headed that way anyway. I can drop you home after that and you can figure out how to get your tire fixed tomorrow."

"Why are you going to Wicker Bay?"

"One of my employees is staying in a cabin there, and I'm concerned about him. He's not answering his phone, and he's going through a bad breakup. Now, do you want a ride, or are you going to let your stubbornly persistent dislike of me make you say no?"

She hated that he could read her so well. "I'll take a ride." She grabbed her bag out of her car, locked the doors and then followed him over to his truck. She hopped into the front seat, happy with how warm it was inside. She rubbed her icy hands together, wishing she'd thought to put gloves on, but she'd only planned on driving the three miles between her house and the hospital today.

"How long were you standing outside?" Jake asked.

"Not long."

"It's a good thing I came along when I did, considering you didn't have a spare."

"We don't have to talk, you know," she said curtly.

"Oh, I know. You're not one to hide your feelings, Hannah Banana," he said with a teasing reference to her childhood nickname.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave him an annoyed look. "Don't call me that. Or I'll have to refer to you as Jake the Snake."

"Who called me Jake the Snake?" he asked, as he drove down the road. "Wait, let me guess, it was you."

"Actually, I think Keira came up with it, but I thought it was more than appropriate after what you did." She blew out a breath, feeling like she became seventeen again every time she saw Jake. She needed to start acting like the adult she was. "Who's your employee, the one you're concerned about?" she asked, wanting to change the subject.

"Trevor Pelham. Do you know him?"

"I know the Pelhams own the cabin at the far end of the bay, but I don't know Trevor personally. He's a lot younger than me."

"Trevor has had a rough time the last year. His mom died of cancer, and the girl he's been living with broke up with him two weeks ago. He thought he was going to marry her. Now he's facing a Christmas alone, and he's been on a week-long bender. He missed a couple of days of work, and I'm worried about him. He said he was going to come up here to dry out. I decided to check on him."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I knew about his mom, of course. She was a nice lady." She paused. "It's nice of you to be concerned."

"I can be nice," he said dryly. "In fact, you used to think I was very nice."

"You were also a lot of other things."

"So were you."

She couldn't really argue with that, and she was relieved when he headed across the short bridge that crossed the river and led into Wicker Bay. They were only a half mile from the cabin now, and she was already eager to be out of his truck. She wasn't going to think about the long trip back to town that would soon be coming. Maybe if she could get a signal in the cabin, she'd just call for roadside assistance.

As he rounded the last curve, she could see the four cabins, spaced about a hundred yards apart, each surrounded by an isolating thicket of trees that provided a great deal of privacy. The other two cabins had changed hands many times