just say the truth before someone else can. It’s a defense mechanism.”
“Maybe it is.” As if he couldn’t help himself, he reached out and tugged a strand of her hair that had gotten caught under her sweater and freed it to lie on her shoulder. He looked as if he wanted to say something…or do something. His dark-brown eyes were unreadable, but she thought he leaned toward her just a bit. Then he was stepping back.
“Thanks, I’ll be finished in about five minutes,” she murmured.
“We’d better get going as soon as we can. I don’t like the looks of that sky.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were on the road. Jasper and Patches had chosen to hop into Sam’s van so Corrie led the procession, her mind racing. Would Sam decide to be her donor? And if he was, what then? Maybe both of their lives would be a lot simpler if she just went to a fertility clinic in Minneapolis. There was a good one there. Sam would be off the hook and she—
She just didn’t like the idea of being impregnated by a stranger’s sperm. Sam’s child…She smiled. Sam’s child would be a handful, she was sure.
Snow began to fall, big heavy flakes mixed with shards of ice. The roads were plowed but not altogether clear from the day before. Corrie glanced in the rearview mirror. Sam was concentrating on the space between their cars. She felt so pleased he’d decided to follow her. She had lived in Minnesota all of her life and wasn’t a stranger to driving on snowy roads. But the ice chips mixed with the snowflakes had her easing her foot off the accelerator and made her fingers grip the wheel tighter.
Corrie saw the mound of snow too late. The pile could have fallen from a vehicle as it was driven down the road. Wherever it had come from, as soon as her left front tire hit it, she went into a skid. Her anti-lock brakes kicked in but the car just wouldn’t stop coasting. She ended up with her left side in the snowbank across the road from where she should be. The snowbank went halfway up her window.
It all happened so fast, she was almost dizzy with the speed of it. Her side of the car tilted into the snowbank and she couldn’t see anything. She knew she had to get out and tell Sam she was okay, but she was still a little breathless from the skid—
The passenger-side door opened. She could hear barking—Jasper’s shorter barks and Patches’s more resounding ones. In an instant, Sam was inside the car, his voice worried, his expression set in stone.
“Corrie, don’t move. Just tell me if anything hurts.”
Hurts? She couldn’t be hurt. She’d simply crossed to the wrong side of the road. She was wearing her seat belt and reached to unfasten it. “I’m okay. I feel so stupid—”
He stayed her hand. “Trust me a minute. Take a deep breath.” He was studying her—her head, her face, her neck, her shoulders, her arms. “Can you move your legs okay?”
She wiggled her feet, then moved one leg at a time. Brushing his hand away from the seat belt, she unbuckled it. “I’m fine, Sam, really. I’m not a china doll.”
“Sometimes adrenaline kicks in after an accident. You can be hurt and not know it. Just sit still a minute.”
So she sat, turned to look at him, and gave him a weak smile. “It’s the car I’m worried about. Thank goodness the dogs were with you.”
“They’re having a fit. They wanted out of the van, but I just cracked a window. I need to know whether to call 911 or the towing service.”
“My seat belt kept me safe. Really.”
She turned her head from side to side and rolled her shoulders. “Everything works.”
“Think you can slide across the seat so you can get out?”
“Sure.”
He gave her another worried look then climbed out.
After she managed to transfer from the driver’s seat to the passenger seat, Sam offered his hand to help her out of the car. She took it and it felt so big and strong and warm. As soon as she was on her feet, he was holding her at her waist. His face was close to hers, their breaths mingling white in the cold.
“Are you dizzy?”
Any lightheadedness she might be feeling came from being this close to him, not from running into a snowbank. She shook her head.
All at once his arms went around her and he pulled her in for a hug. “When I saw your car fishtail—Jeez, you scared me.”
His head dipped a little closer to hers. She raised her chin. Their lips clung and held. Their New Year’s Eve kiss had been impulsive, exciting, so filled with sexual chemistry it had scared the living daylights out of her. But this kiss…
It was hungry, passionate, all-consuming…
Suddenly it was over and Sam was shaking his head and swearing. “I’m sorry, Corrie. I—”
He was sorry? “Why?”
“Because you were just in an accident. I was more panicked than I wanted to be. We were both reacting. It wasn’t…real.”
Not real? That kiss had been real to her, but Sam obviously wasn’t looking at it the same way she was. He clearly didn’t want to admit there was any attraction between them this time any more than he’d wanted to recognize it after their first kiss. She couldn’t let on how much it affected her…how much she’d wanted it. How very right it had seemed.
“If you don’t want it to be real, then it wasn’t real. It never happened,” she stated matter-of-factly as she dug into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll call the auto club. I’m afraid we’re going to be stuck here for a while.”
“We can sit in the van,” he assured her, his words even and tempered as she speed-dialed the auto club.
Forty-five minutes later, the tow truck arrived and pulled her car out of the snowbank. The mechanic looked over it and said, “I don’t think you should drive it. The tire isn’t flat but it could be punctured by the rim. The car’s definitely out of alignment. We need to check that axle, too.”
“We’re headed for Rapid Creek,” Sam said. “Can you work on it tomorrow?”
“Not likely. There were three other accidents. First come, first served. It will probably be Wednesday until I get to it.”
Corrie felt as if she were going to cry and knew that was a ridiculous reaction. There had been a palpable tension between her and Sam as they’d waited in his van. A different kind of tension than after their New Year’s Eve kiss.
They were still an hour from Rapid Creek. The tow truck had come from Calumet, fifteen minutes west of where they were now. “I can do without the car. I can walk to work. But I’ll have to find someone to drive me to your garage when it’s finished.”
“I’ll drive you back up here,” Sam said firmly. “Is there anything you need in your car before he takes it?”
Since she’d already snagged her purse, she shook her head. “No.”
“Then sign right here,” the mechanic said, offering her his clipboard. “Make sure you give me a phone number where I can reach you.”
Corrie jotted down her home phone as well as her cell phone number. Five minutes later, she was inside Sam’s van again with the dogs in the backseat.
At first they’d barked and licked and made sure they’d gotten her attention. But after a few pets, scratches and a “We’re going home now” they’d settled down. She, however, hadn’t settled down. Beside Sam in his vehicle, she was too aware of what had happened between them. Too aware that this was a one-sided attraction and if she didn’t call off the sperm donation, she’d be headed for…heartache. Whether she had a crush on the man or simply growing feelings for him, either would lead her down a painful road.
The snow