After venisonless pizza, which was good despite the lack of wild-game toppings, they decided to go to an early movie. It was actually Ellie who decided and then cajoled George into going. Staying at the apartment was tempting, but she thought they needed a little more time before diving into another make-out session. This thing—whatever they were, or could be to each other—was too new to rush. But she wasn’t sure if she could keep her hands off him without the buffer of other people.
“Is there any movie you’ve been wanting to see?” she asked, scrolling through the possibilities on her phone while George drove the Prius. They were heading to a theater in one of the close-in suburbs, since Ellie figured that would give George a little more breathing room than the small, crowded places close to her condo. His large frame should have looked ridiculous folded up in the driver’s seat, but he managed to pull it off with his usual steady confidence. Instead of wanting to snigger and make clown-car jokes when she looked at him, Ellie just felt the urge to let out a dreamy sigh.
He shook his head, so she started reading possibilities to him. When he looked blank at the movie titles, she began giving a brief synopsis of each one. She judged his reaction to each possibility by the face he made, from total disgust to mild interest.
“Oh! This one’s supposed to be good. Mostly action but with some funny parts.” Since he didn’t look opposed, she looked at the movie times and saw that they’d get to the theater in time for the earlier evening showing. Tucking her phone into her purse, she settled back into her seat and allowed herself to eye George again. She couldn’t believe he was sitting in her car with her, and that they were about to go on a date. Just over a week earlier, she’d only wanted to survive, bring her dad home, feel warm again, and eat pizza. They’d accomplished all four.
“Want to talk to Baxter tomorrow morning?” she asked. “I was going to call him before my shift.”
When he nodded, she smiled.
“It’s the next exit.”
After they left the interstate, Ellie gave him directions to the theater, and George parked on the far end of the large, open lot.
She gave him an amused look. “Are you keeping my car safe from door dings?”
“I like having space,” he responded before getting out of the car and circling around to open her door. Surprised at the courtesy, Ellie beamed as she offered her hand to him so George could help her out of the car. Once she was standing, he closed the door and locked the car without releasing his grip.
As they started walking toward the theater entrance, she squeezed his hand and barely stopped herself before giving a little skip of happiness. Her shoes were made more for beauty than for skipping, hopping, or jumping.
They were also not made for hiking across an enormous parking lot, and she wasn’t even a quarter of the way to the front doors when her toes started to pinch. Although she tried to hide her discomfort, not wanting George to feel bad for making her walk so far because of his parking-lot claustrophobia, her ankle twisted with a bad step, making her give a small gasp.
He looked at her as she limped a couple of steps, walking off the twinge of pain, and then he stopped. His hold on her hand meant that she halted, as well.
Ellie looked at him curiously. “What’s—?” Her question ended in a yelp as he swung her into his arms, bride style, and began carrying her to the entrance of the theater. “I’m okay.” Her arms wrapped around his neck as he strode across the lot, not even out of breath from her weight. “George. You’re always having to carry me. My ankle’s fine. Really.”
Traffic noise from the main road was distant enough that the parking lot was fairly quiet—for the city, at least. After her time in the mountains, Ellie had a new appreciation for true silence. George tipped his head forward, as if they were in a noisy club. When his breath brushed the delicate skin of her ear, she couldn’t hold back a shiver. She was so distracted by his lips that it took her a few seconds to process his words.
“I don’t mind,” he said quietly. “I like holding you.”
Her arms tightened around his neck as she shuddered again. “Okay.” Her voice was faint, and she was pretty sure the movement of his chest was a chuckle.
When they reached the sidewalk by the entrance, George carefully lowered her to her feet, keeping his hands on her upper arms until she was steady. They stared at each other, and he started to lean closer. Mesmerized, she didn’t move. Her focus narrowed until all she could see was George, and all she could think about was feeling his lips on hers again.
“Excuse me.” A shrill voice made her jump, and Ellie realized that they were blocking the middle pair of doors. There were five other sets of doors that the irritated woman and her two friends could have chosen, but Ellie just tugged George to the side, giving the woman a smile. She looked up at George, hoping they could resume where they’d been before the interruption, but the moment was gone. Rather than kissing her, George held open the door and ushered her inside.
Although she sighed in brief disappointment, Ellie’s smile returned quickly as she laced her fingers with George’s. It was an amazing thing to be able to touch him like that. She wondered how she’d survive once he returned to Simpson and she was alone again. Her grip tightened on his hand. She couldn’t let herself think about being separated from George, about not being able to touch him or kiss him or read from his expression all the words he couldn’t say out loud. Ellie had tried being without him, and she had been miserable. An occasional phone call—if he ever took his cell out of the packaging—was no substitute for having him close. She couldn’t picture George being happy living in Chicago, but she selfishly wanted to keep him with her for as long as possible. Instead of dwelling on their eventual separation, she focused on enjoying the newness of each discovery—the roughness of his fingers and the surprising softness of his lips. Her face flushed at the thought of his earlier kisses, and he gave her a questioning look.
With a flustered shake of her head, she declined to comment and directed him to a ticket kiosk instead. He insisted on paying, just as he had with the pizza, and she frowned at him.
“If you waste all your money on me,” she warned, “you’re going to end up having to drag a bunch of whiny tourists all over the mountain just to earn enough for next winter.”
The corner of his mouth slid up in a half smile. “It’s not wasted.”
Grinning at him, she towed him toward the snack counter. “At least let me pay you back in sugar. What’s your favorite movie food?” she asked. “Mine is cinnamon candy and popcorn eaten together.” The look he slanted at her was appalled. “It’s good, seriously. It tastes like a popcorn ball.” She frowned. “Wait. Why am I defending my excellent movie-food choices to the guy who thinks pouch food is good?”
He just smirked at her, making her laugh. As they waited in line, Ellie glanced around the lobby and caught sight of the woman who’d been annoyed that they’d been blocking the doors. The blond stranger was eyeing George with a touch too much hunger in her expression for Ellie’s liking. Resisting the urge to snarl, Ellie took a half step toward George. Since she was already very close to him, the move brought their sides together with their clasped hands caught between them.
When he glanced at her, eyebrows raised, she just made a face, not wanting to explain her unwarranted surge of jealousy. He released her hand, and she fought the need to cling, reluctantly relaxing her grip and letting him withdraw. Instead of pulling away, though, he circled his arm behind her back, cupping her shoulder with his hand and tugging her more tightly against his side. She relaxed into him, perfectly content to wait forever for her popcorn and cinnamon candy.
This close to George, she felt his tension. His gaze was moving constantly, scanning the groups of movie patrons, his head turning sharply at every loud noise. Ellie hated his discomfort and wished she could erase it, that she could make him as comfortable in her urban life as he was in the mountains. There was nothing she could do, though, except lean a little more fully against him so he focused on her again with a smile.
Ellie stayed plastered against George’s side until they reached the front of the line. Since he hadn’t told her his snack preferences, she looked at him, waiting for him to order his own food once she was done.
“Water,” he grunted. That was it.
“What else?” she asked. When he just shook his head at her and reached for his wallet, she ordered another half dozen types of candy.
George blinked at her.
“You can’t have just water at a movie,” she explained. Really, no sugary snacks? It was almost sacrilegious. “And I’m paying, remember? That’s the rule. If one person pays for tickets, the other pays for the snacks. It’s movie-going etiquette.” She packed the candy into her purse while she pulled out her wallet. “I got a variety, so there’s sure to be something in there”—she poked her purse—“that you like.”
He didn’t say anything but just inserted his body between Ellie and the counter and paid.
“Hey!” she scolded his broad back. “That’s a serious breach of movie etiquette!”
George ignored her.
With a few muttered words about stubborn men who used their mountainous size to unfair advantage, Ellie dropped her billfold back in her purse and reached for the popcorn, only to be blocked again. George tucked the water bottle into the crook of his elbow and picked up the popcorn tub and beverage. Glancing down at her empty hands, Ellie smiled wryly. Apparently, George felt strongly about carrying the bulk of the load, whether they were on a snowy trail or in a city movie theater. She decided she should be glad he didn’t toss her over his shoulder before picking up the popcorn. The mental image made her laugh, and George looked at her curiously.
“Nothing,” she said, pulling his water bottle free from where he’d trapped it between his arm and body. “Just a random thought. Come on.” She gave his elbow a tug. “If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss the previews, and they’re my favorite part.”
* * *
The movie was good, but watching George was better. He looked as entranced as a little kid, his eyes never leaving the screen as he ate most of the popcorn. All of the other snacks she’d ordered had disappeared so quickly that she couldn’t even determine which one he’d enjoyed the most. George seemed to be an equal-opportunity eater. She wasn’t sure why she was surprised, since he’d downed MREs with all appearances of enjoyment.
An on-screen explosion lit his face with yellow light, and he jerked back in his chair. Soon he was leaning forward again, completely engrossed in the movie. He blindly reached for another handful of popcorn, and Ellie adjusted the tub so his fingers would hit its mark.
When the credits rolled across the screen, he finally turned to look at her. George glanced at the empty popcorn tub, then his buttery fingers, and he grimaced, shooting her an apologetic glance. It made her laugh.
“Don’t worry about it. I usually have two bites, run out of cinnamon candy, and leave the rest of the popcorn. It’s very wasteful. Besides, I’m used to you finishing my food.”
His mouth quirked up at the reminder, and his eyes grew warm. From his expression, Ellie could tell he’d felt the same odd intimacy that she had when they’d shared meals. The aching loneliness that had kept her up night after night began to ease, the hollow part of her filled with George’s presence. Her expression must have given away her feelings, because he leaned toward her, getting closer and closer as she forgot to breathe.
“Excuse me.” The same grating voice from earlier interrupted them yet again.
“Seriously?” Ellie muttered, but twisted her legs so the woman and her friends could leave the row. Ellie hadn’t even realized that the woman was watching the same movie, but she definitely noticed how the blond angled her body so her breasts were right in George’s face as she passed. One bedazzled fingernail traced a line down his biceps, making him flinch and yank back his arm.
“Hi,” the woman greeted him throatily, her hungry gaze running down his chest.
That was not acceptable. “Hey!”
The woman stopped, still in front of George, who had leaned as far away from the encroaching cleavage as he could. She looked at Ellie, bitch-face fully activated. “You have a problem?”
“Not if you keep moving and get your boobs out of my boyfriend’s face.”
“Go on, Harper,” one of her friends hissed. “Move! You’re going to get your extensions ripped out again.”
“Shut up, Tate,” the blond snapped, but she did continue past Ellie, making a big show of not touching her legs. Ellie really, really wanted to trip her.
Once she and her entourage had exited the row and were making their way toward the door, Ellie turned, slightly shamefaced, back to George. “Sorry. I usually don’t start girl fights in movie theaters. I never do, actually. I’m normally a calm, easygoing person. It’s just that…” She wasn’t sure how to say that she was frustrated after being kiss-blocked twice by the same blond harlot who’d been ogling Ellie’s lumberjack.
When she glanced at George after her words trailed off, she saw he was grinning. “I protect you from mountain predators, and you protect me from”—his head tipped toward the retreating blond—“city predators.”
Ellie laughed, her gaze fixed on his face, completely entranced by his happy expression. As it always did, that gorgeous, rare smile dazzled her in the best way. Cupping her jaw with his big hand, George tipped his head to hers. As their lips touched, instant warmth spread through her, and the rapidly emptying theater disappeared. It was just her and George and a gentle, dizzying kiss.
“Excuse me.”
Ellie whirled around in her seat, ready to commit blondicide, but it was a different woman. This one had a carpet sweeper and was wearing a theater-employee uniform.
“You guys have to leave the theater now,” she said in a bored voice. “The movie’s over.”
“Fine.” Her jaw clenched in frustration, Ellie grabbed George’s hand and headed for the exit. They needed to get to her condo so she could get kissed before she exploded. When they passed a trash bin outside the theater, George reached across her to toss in their empty snack containers.
“Thanks for cleaning up after us,” she said, feeling a little calmer now that her heartbeat wasn’t racing with anticipation. Ellie gave him a teasing smile. “Even at the movies, you follow the leave-no-trace camping rules.”
He smiled back, although she didn’t think it was at her lame joke. Tender and painfully sweet, it was aimed directly at her.
“Ready to go home?” she asked, squeezing his hand without looking away from his face.
He nodded.
* * *
The ride home had given her time to get nervous again, and she started chattering when they entered her condo.
“Did you like the movie?” At his nod, she almost asked if he’d been to a theater before, but she stopped, not wanting to bring up his inexperience with anything, even something as innocuous as movies. “Is there a theater in Simpson?”
He shook his head. “During the summer festival, they’ll set up a screen outside and show family movies. That’s about it.”
It was a relief to pull off her torturous shoes. If they hadn’t been so darn cute, she would’ve pitched them right into the trash. Instead, she headed for her bedroom to stow them in her closet, asking over her shoulder, “So everyone has to make do with their televisions, huh?”
George’s response was quiet, and she had to strain to hear it from the other room. “Not everyone.”
Since she was in her bedroom anyway, Ellie figured she should change out of her dress. It was strange undressing with George in the next room. Even though he couldn’t see her unless he had X-ray vision that he hadn’t mentioned, she was still blushing as she stripped.
“Do you not have a TV?” she called, trying to make her voice as casual as possible. Except for a slight wobble, she managed pretty well.
“No.” He sounded closer, as if he were right outside her bedroom, and she paused in the middle of stepping into a pair of fuzzy pajama bottoms.
Swallowing hard, she forced her body to move again. “So what do you do when you’re snowed in and bored out of your mind?”
“Read.” There was a pause. “Fix things. Play music. Sing.”
“You sing?” She yanked on a camisole and covered that with an oversized Avalanche hoodie. As she zipped it, she made a face at the hockey team name scrawled across her chest. “Avalanche” had a whole new meaning to her now. “Why didn’t you join me in my musical stylings on the trail?”
She could almost hear his shrug. “Never really sang in front of anyone before.”
The residue of her popcorn, candy, and pop combination didn’t taste as good in her mouth as it had several hours before, so she headed for the connecting bathroom to brush her teeth. Ellie left the door open so she could keep talking to George. It was nice getting words rather than silent gestures from him, even if she was getting pretty good at interpreting his shrugs.
“Why not?” she called, continuing the conversation through a mouthful of toothpaste. The words were garbled, so she spit and tried again. “Why not?”
There was a pause. “Never been anyone around to hear.”
That struck her as so sad. Since she couldn’t say anything around the lump in her throat, she concentrated on rinsing her toothbrush. After crossing her bedroom and opening the door, she found George leaning against the wall right next to the doorjamb.
“I’m sorry.”
Her sympathy appeared to have confused him.
“That you were alone so much.” She tried to make her voice matter-of-fact to hide that she was one sad thought away from dissolving into a weepy mess. She’d never been much of a crier, but her tears had been on a hair trigger since she’d returned from the mountains. “Especially in Simpson. Here in Chicago, there’s always somewhere you can go if you don’t want to be alone.”
He didn’t meet her gaze. Apparently, he didn’t want to discuss his aloneness. That was fine with Ellie. She didn’t want to turn into a soggy heap of ugly crying and make him run back to his solitary but tear-free cabin as fast as his truck could take him.
“Come on.” She led the way to the living room. Instead of settling in her favorite chair, as was her habit, she sat on the couch. After all, George was here. There’d be plenty of opportunities for chair sitting when she was alone again. After a pause, he sank down next to her, leaving a person-sized gap between them. She turned to face him, drawing up her knees in front of her.
The movement brought his attention to her bare feet. “Better?” he asked.
It took Ellie a second to understand his meaning. “Oh, the blisters, do you mean? They’re fine.” She held up her feet and wiggled her toes. “These feet are used to abuse, though. You’ve seen the torture devices I call shoes.”
Clasping her feet in his hands, he pulled them onto his lap. Both hands focused on her left foot, and his fingers immediately found exactly the right place to apply the perfect amount of pressure. Leaning against the sofa arm, she closed her eyes and stifled a moan of pleasure. She wondered idly how he could be so good at giving a foot massage when he’d never dated. Deciding he must be a massage savant, Ellie made a mental vow to experience a back massage from him as soon as possible. The idea of it made her warm all over.
The ball of his thumb dug into her arch. This time, she couldn’t hold back a pleased groan. When his hands went still, she opened one eye and glared at him.
“Why’d you stop?” There was a slight whine to her words, but she couldn’t help it. She’d been wallowing in paradise before being abruptly jerked back to achy-feet reality.
“Thought I might have hurt you.” His hands resumed their work, and she closed her eye again with a happy hum.
“If it hurts, I’ll say, ‘Ow. Stop. That hurts.’ This is heaven.”
He switched feet.
“How’d you learn that a good foot massage is the key to a heel-wearing woman’s heart?” she asked, settling her back more comfortably against the arm of the couch.
“I overheard Cora saying something to Janelle about her husband giving them to her when she was pregnant.”
Ellie opened her eyes so she could look at him. “Who are Cora and Janelle?” she asked lazily, and then moaned. “Oh, that’s nice. Right there.”
“They’re on the team.”
“Search and rescue?” When he nodded, she let her eyes drift closed again. “Next time I visit Simpson, I’ll have to meet those two ladies and thank them.”
He made a soft, amused sound, but the important thing was that his hands kept moving. In fact, they’d traveled around the back of her heel and over her ankle. His fingers were working at the base of her calf, which was starting to make her squirm in a whole different way.
“Seriously, though,” she said, mostly to distract herself from his wandering hands and the sensations they were creating, “I’d like to meet your team members. The only one I’ve been around is Joseph, and he’s probably not the best ambassador.”
His hands slowed, making her open her eyes. George was scowling.
“Hey,” she said softly, and he met her eyes. “You okay?”
“Just thinking about him taking you to the cabin instead of me,” he said. His hands wrapped around both of her feet like they had at the cabin, surrounding them in glorious warmth. Even after she’d returned to her climate-controlled life in Chicago, her feet were almost always cold.
Leaning forward, she covered his hands with hers. “He didn’t. You took me, and you kept me safe and my feet unfrozen.”
George looked up, and their eyes met. Suddenly, he was over her, and they were kissing. Her mouth opened a little at the shock of it, and his tongue was there, exploring her with tentative touches that were more arousing than any experience she’d had before. Recovering from her surprise, Ellie wrapped her arms around his neck and held on to him.
Everywhere his mouth touched lit up, as if he were supplying electricity to her nerve endings. His teeth tugged gently on her lower lip, and she audibly sucked in a breath at the spark of pleasure. At the sound, George pulled back a few inches, checking her expression as if to see whether it had been a good gasp or a bad gasp. Burying the fingers of both hands into his hair, Ellie yanked him back down for more kissing. She felt him smile against her mouth.
They kissed for what felt like hours, sometimes serious and sometimes playing, both of them learning what the other one liked. Ellie discovered that touching a spot under his jaw gave him goose bumps, and George’s kisses developed an edge of sexy bossiness as he gained confidence, making Ellie forget everything except for him. She kept expecting his hands to wander, for him to ramp up to the next level, but he seemed content to stick with kissing for now. When Ellie realized this, her how-far-will-we-go tension eased, and she just settled in to enjoy the experience. George’s kisses were even better than his foot massage, which she didn’t think was possible.
The bang of her door closing interrupted them, making them jerk apart. Both she and George were on their feet within half a second.
“Oops.” Chelsea dumped her purse and coat on the small table by the door. “Am I interrupting?”
“Yeah.” Ellie’s voice was sharper than she’d intended, but her heart was still thundering. Everything scared her lately. The fact that she was multiple states away from the last known location of Anderson King didn’t stop her from jumping out of her skin at every loud noise or sudden movement.
Chelsea looked unaffected by Ellie’s snappy tone. “The sooner you find me a George of my own, the sooner I’ll be too busy to bother the two of you. So you might want to get on that.” She sauntered over to where they stood by the couch, elbowed her way between them, and plopped down on the center cushion. “Should we watch a movie?”
As she thought about murdering her smirking roommate, Ellie glanced at an impassive George. Now that Chelsea was there, things felt a little awkward.
“Actually, I’m kind of tired.” Checking the clock, she was shocked to see it was after midnight. They really had been kissing for hours. “And you were driving all night, so you’ve been up for”—she tried and failed to do the mental math—“days! You must be exhausted.”
George moved to grab his duffel bag from where he’d dropped it near the entry when they’d first arrived.
“You two are no fun at all,” Chelsea said with a pout as she thumped the cushions on either side of her. Bouncing to her feet, she headed for her bedroom. “Good thing I was just stopping by to change before going out again. Later, kids. Be safe.”
After the tornado that was Chelsea disappeared, George turned toward the guest room. Although she’d already shown him where it was, Ellie still followed him the short distance. Despite her tiredness and her sudden onset of shyness, she didn’t want to say good night and leave him just yet.
He dropped the duffel at the foot of the bed and looked over to where she was hovering in the doorway.
“The bathroom’s through there.” She pointed toward the closed door. “It’s connected to my room, but I’ll try to remember to knock instead of just barging in like I usually do. Thank goodness Chelsea has her own.”
Instead of smiling at her joke, his stare increased in intensity, and she wondered if he was thinking about Ellie walking in while he was in the shower. That made her think about walking in while he was in the shower, which made her flush bright enough to spontaneously combust. What was it about George that reduced her to a stammering, blushing teenager?
“Um…okay.” Ellie looked anywhere except at those hot eyes. “Good night, then. Feel free to wander around if you need anything from the…uh, kitchen or anything.” Now she was thinking about him wandering into her room, and she needed to stop it.
“Good night,” he said quietly. While she’d been carefully not looking at him, he’d moved close…very close. Her eyes widened as he bent and place a light kiss on her startled mouth. His lips were gone before she could kiss him back.
The backs of his fingers brushed her cheek, and she turned her head to kiss them. The heat in his expression ratcheted up another notch, and he took her by the shoulders. To her disappointment, he turned her around. “Better go while I can still let you.” His voice was low, his lips almost touching her ear. With a final squeeze of his hands, he gave her a gentle push and released her shoulders.
“Okay,” she said without turning around. “Good night. Uh…I already said that. Sorry.”
There was a chuckle behind her as she scampered to her door before anything else embarrassing could leave her mouth. Once in the safety of her bedroom, she closed her door and leaned against it, smiling. George was there, in her apartment, and they’d kissed…a lot.
Resisting the urge to squeal like an overexcited kid, she bit her lip and squeezed her hands together at her heart. It was too much to hold inside, though, and her feet did a mini Snoopy dance of happiness.