Loud Mouth - Avery Flynn Page 0,3
that had accompanied her confirmation, and there it was in black and white.
Shelby,
I know just the place. Peaceful with gorgeous views. It’s already booked. Plenty of space because the cabin is huge so you can have as much “me time” as you need without being totally alone, which you really don’t want to do, considering the threats. It’s just what you need. This is actually perfect.
Lucy
So much for not messing with a man when he was down. “She did this on purpose.”
Shelby paled. “Why would she do that?”
“Have you met Lucy?” He shook his head, trying to wrap his brain around this mess. “She’s all about controlling the situation and the spin. No doubt she thinks this will fix things.”
“I can’t stay here.” Shelby backpedaled a few steps, clutching her phone and the stun gun to her chest.
Ian didn’t need to look at his phone to confirm that it was way too late for that. When he’d pulled off the highway and onto the mile-long dirt road to the cabin with the only landmark letting him know he was on the right road being a beat-up wooden marker with the number six on it, the guy on the local radio had just announced it was ten o’clock and warned everyone to get home before the snow got any worse. Anyway, the cabin was miles away from anything even slightly resembling a town.
“Yeah, good luck with that. It’s already snowing sideways out there,” he said, because he had enough shit to deal with without worrying about her stuck in a snowbank because he’d kicked her out. “You can have this room. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”
Shelby screwed up her mouth and glared at him as if he controlled the weather or the Ice Knights’ PR queen, Lucy Kavanagh. Finally, she let out a very unhappy huff. “Fine.”
Okay, one battle won. He’d take it. God knew he needed it.
He started toward the door, giving her—and her stun gun—a wide birth. “Hope you don’t talk in your sleep. I’d hate for you to go spilling any more life-ruining secrets.”
He could have sworn he heard her mumble something along the lines of “fuck you, asshole, it was an accident” as she slammed the door shut in his face. He definitely heard the lock being turned. He couldn’t blame her. The whole situation was a mess. First thing tomorrow, he’d find another cabin to sit and drink scotch in and growl at anyone who dared to cross his path. Hell, he’d rather go find a frozen hedge maze to wander until he turned into an icicle than to stay here with her.
Glancing at the window, he saw the snow piling up fast on the drive. As long as it stopped by dawn, he’d be out of here before breakfast.
…
It was a great plan, and when he woke up the next morning to bright sunshine spilling in through the huge window looking out onto the front drive, he let out a contented sigh. This was what he’d wanted, fucking serenity. Then he made the mistake of getting up from bed, walking over to the window, and glancing out.
There wasn’t a driveway anymore.
The road back down the mountain to the highway was gone. Everything was covered in enough snow to obliterate any hope of an escape.
The unmistakable pitch of Shelby’s voice forced its way past his closed door. “Have you seen all the stupid snow? Neither of us is going anywhere.”
The sound jabbed him right in the eardrum and he winced.
His life was so fucked right now that he couldn’t even manage to be alone so he could contemplate the dark pit of his existence while nursing a scotch and his misery. Instead, he was trapped here—with the woman who’d turned his life into a hellscape.
Things couldn’t possibly get any worse.
Chapter Two
Three Weeks Earlier…
Two floors below the frozen surface where the Ice Knights battled for victory eight months out of the year, Shelby stood alone in the hallway halfway between the locker room and the coach’s office, trying not to hyperventilate or throw up on the scuffed pumps she’d pulled from the back of her messy closet.
Her palms hadn’t been this damp since she’d checked into rehab six years ago, and it hadn’t been nerves that morning—it had been because she was still sweating out the vodka from one last monumental bender. This morning, her sobriety chip slipped easily through her fingers as she moved it like a magician doing a coin trick, sliding it