Love In Moments (Love Distilled #2) - Scarlett Cole Page 0,36

weather.

“I’d like that. You could keep me warm tonight.”

“Liv,” Anders growled. “There’s no point in setting goals if you aren’t going to keep them.”

She reached over the gearshift and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. “And there’s no point sticking to them if they make you miserable.”

He brushed his lips over hers.

“Or horny,” she added, feeling his lips shift into a grin.

“Tease all you want, Liv. I’m a man of my word. I want to get to know you. I know what your body feels like when it’s pressed up against mine. I know what it takes to make you come, and I know how it feels to be deep inside you when you do. And I know all of that feels like pure fucking heaven. But now I want to know the rest. I want to know why last year was so awful for you. I want to know what you want to do in the future.”

The future.

She was trying to not think about it too hard, given it likely included Anders leaving Denver. Who knew where that would leave the two of them.

There was sincerity in his words and hope in his eyes. It should be easy enough to open up and tell him, right? Hadn’t she worked hard with her therapist to overcome the embarrassment she felt? “I need a minute,” she said, and stepped out of the intimacy of Anders’s car.

The cold air bit her cheeks and she zipped up her coat against the frigid breeze, only to realize the chill she felt was more than just the weather.

She heard Anders’s door open and close, heard the crunch of his footsteps on the frozen snowy ground. “What made you freeze, Liv? Issues in the past? The idea of a future? Talking about sex?” He leaned back against the car, and she knew he was giving her space, a thoughtfulness she appreciated.

“All of the above. But it’s linked to last year.”

“How bad was it?”

“The worst.”

Anders looked in the direction of the trail. “Let’s walk, Liv.” He reached for her hand. “You can show me what you wanted to show me. Trust is the hardest thing to earn. But I’ll earn yours, Liv. I promise.”

There was a peacefulness that settled over both of them as they left the lot and headed toward the ridge that climbed steeply from the Hogback. It was the trickiest part of their route, but the snow-covered Red Rocks and peaks of Mount Morrison and Green Mountain were worth it.

The air was fresh and clear, and the exertion began to shift the heaviness and fog from her mind. Anders kept his promise. They walked and talked about nothing more than the evergreen spruce that lined the trail for over an hour.

“In June last year, a storm came through Denver. Not a hurricane, but a strong one,” she began. “It destroyed one of the distillery buildings. It did extensive damage to the roof. And from the volume of water that poured in, everything inside was destroyed.”

“Fuck, Liv. Were you hurt? Was anybody inside?”

Were you hurt? Wasn’t that the million-dollar question?

“No. No one was physically injured, but it was the venue we used to host weddings. It happened the night before a large wedding. The room had been completely set up with all the bride and groom’s table settings and flowers. My job includes event management, social media, and marketing for the distillery. I have a degree in public relations and communications.”

“Clever as well as pretty,” Anders said, without breaking stride.

She liked that they were walking, that all of Anders’s intense focus wasn’t on her right now. “It quickly blew up. The groom was furious at me. I’d worked through the night to see what I could get set up for them somewhere else. But the distillery hall wasn’t safe. Electricity and so much water made it dangerous. And the fridges and freezers lost power when the circuits tripped. We couldn’t use anything we’d got to cater the event. The flowers were ruined. I did find a venue they could use, but it was just a chain hotel. Nothing special. The couple didn’t take the news well.”

She left out the parts that followed. The groom’s arrest. The missed wedding.

“Anyway, we had to cancel a lot of weddings. The repair and renovation were dependent on the insurance coming through. Brides and grooms were rightly frustrated. Many took to social media, targeting their anger. Angry mobs gather trolls. The comments became worse, more personal. They