Snowed in with Her Ex. Andrea Laurence
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day their engagement was announced and photos of her ring hit the gossip blogs, her latest song hit the top ten on iTunes. As her label, he couldn’t complain. As her fiancé, he wasn’t as thrilled.
This weekend they would take their engagement portraits and project the image of the happy power couple to the world. Then they would spend the next few days together trying to make it into a reality. A crackling fire, a stunning view, hot cocoa on the deck while snuggled under a blanket together... It would be a romantic music video come to life. He hoped.
Right now, he couldn’t guarantee that any of it was going to happen. Missy had said the snow would be romantic. He had no doubt she’d changed her mind by now.
Frowning, Ian walked to the front door, opened it and stepped out onto the front porch. The snow was sticking in earnest now, piling on the grass and creating a solid blanket across the road. You couldn’t even see the pavement. Or the layer of ice likely forming beneath it. In the South, it was rarely snow that was the problem. It was the ice that sent you skidding into ditches and sliding backward down hills.
As he watched the snow fall, a little white SUV rounded the corner and headed in his direction. His house was the last on the winding path, so once the car passed his closest neighbor he knew it had to be the photographer. If the photographer could make it from Nashville despite the weather, maybe Missy would make it in from Atlanta. At the very least, he knew the roads hadn’t closed yet.
The SUV pulled up by the steps to the front porch. Ian pasted on his smile, readying himself for a day of Academy Award–winning acting. He took careful steps down the stacked stone stairs to greet the photographer and help bring in any equipment.
A woman in a tight pair of jeans and a fitted turtleneck with a fleece jacket over it got out. She was dressed for a January day in Nashville, not the mountains. The snow had obviously been a surprise for her, too. She had no heavy coat, no gloves and no scarf, and her red Converse sneakers would offer about as much traction on ice as baby oil.
At least she had a hat. Her long blond hair peeked out beneath the knitted cap pulled down over her head. She was wearing wide, dark sunglasses, so he could see very little of her face, but for some reason, she seemed familiar to him.
The woman slammed her car door shut and slipped off her sunglasses. “Hi, Ian.”
In an instant, the face, the voice and the memories slammed together and socked him in the gut. It was Bree. Briana Harper. His freshman romance. The one who distracted him from his classes with her young, firm body and adventurous spirit. The one who dumped him at the lowest point in his life.
Ian swallowed the lump in his throat. “Bree? Wow. I had no idea you were, uh, that you would be...”
Bree winced and nodded. He could tell from the visible tension in her neck and shoulders that this was equally awkward for her. She was strung tight as a drum, and the familiarity of their past urged him to reach out and massage her neck the way he used to. But that was just nostalgia talking. He sincerely doubted touching Bree would help this situation.
“You didn’t know I was coming?”
“No, I...left all the details to Missy. She didn’t mention who the photographer would be.”
“I knew that I should’ve said something,” she began, “or given you some kind of warning in case you didn’t know, but I’d hoped not to make a big deal of it. My business partners didn’t know you and I were acquainted.”
Acquainted. That was one word for it. Touched every inch of each other’s bodies was another way to phrase it. Once the shock of her arrival faded, Ian let his curious gaze run over the rest of her once-familiar curves. There were more than he remembered, but they’d practically been kids then, still teenagers. Now she was a full-grown woman in a pair of jeans that looked painted-on.
“Is this going to be a problem for you?” she asked. “It’s not for me. I intend to keep this very professional. Your fiancée doesn’t even need to know we’ve met previously, if that’s what you prefer.”
“Yes, that’s probably for the best.” Although Missy claimed she had little competition, she was at the same time insanely jealous. She had made headlines for starting catfights in night clubs and industry parties. She’d snatched the extensions out of her supposed rival’s hair for just talking to her ex-boyfriend at a promoted event in Las Vegas.
Ian hadn’t given Missy any reason to be jealous, but he knew how easily that switch could flip in her. The last thing he needed was Missy throwing a fit about the photographer. They needed these pictures done and released to the magazine for the scheduled issue. They couldn’t wait for someone else to come up here and replace Bree.
That is, if anyone else could even make it up the mountain. The snow was falling faster than ever now. “We’d better get your things inside,” he suggested.
Bree nodded. When she turned to head toward the back of her car, her shoe skidded on the slick pavement. Her eyes widened and her arms shot out for something to steady her, but it was Ian’s lightning-fast reflexes that saved her. He reached out, his arms encircling her waist and tugging her up and against his body.
Ian instantly knew he’d made a mistake. The whole length of her was pressed into him. The scent of her favorite lotion mingled with the baby shampoo she’d always used. The familiar combination rushed to his nose, bringing back flashes of hot nights in his dorm room and in the back of his car. His entire body tensed, the cold unable to dampen the sudden arousal that being near Bree had so easily caused.
Bree clung to him, her ivory cheeks flushed pink from the cold and a hint of embarrassment. Her baby-blue eyes met his for a moment and the connection between them snapped like a current flowing freely through a copper wire. It had always been like this. Even minutes after he’d had her, he’d want her again. Back then, if she wasn’t in his arms, she was all he could think about.
He tore his gaze from hers, letting his eyes settle on the pink pucker of her mouth. That wasn’t much better. Her lips had been the softest, most welcoming lips he’d ever encountered, before college or since. Kissing Bree had been one of the divine pleasures of his life. Losing that had been almost as hard as losing his music.
That thought brought him back to reality. Ian steadied her on her feet and then disentangled himself from her before he did something stupid like kiss her. Bree reached a hand out for the side mirror of her car, taking a solid step back from him.
“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks now crimson. “That was really embarrassing.”
“That was nothing,” he said, more to himself than to her, but he followed it up. “Embarrassing would’ve been bruising your hind end on the driveway and getting your pants soaking wet and muddy.”
“True,” she said, looking around, apparently unwilling to meet his gaze again.
“Are your things in the trunk?” he asked.
“Yes.” Bree perked up, seemingly happy to focus on her work again. With one hand on her car she stepped cautiously to the back and opened the hatch on her Honda. She slung a green backpack over her shoulder and then pulled out a few black bags and a tripod.
Ian took as much as he could from her and escorted her up the stairs into the cabin. He let her focus on setting up her equipment and turned to his phone as a distraction. Hopefully reading a couple emails would help dull the raging arousal that still pumped through his veins and clouded his mind.
He hadn’t had a reaction to a woman like that since...He thought back and frowned. Since the last time he’d held Bree in his arms. Not even the belly-baring diva of his record label could match the need Bree built in him right now. He didn’t want that to be the case—life would be so much easier if things were reversed—but there was no denying it.
Missy would have a glass-breaking fit if she knew.
* * *
Bree focused on setting up her equipment even though she knew it was a pointless exercise. An hour had gone by