He smiled and she was blinded once more by brilliant white. Not snow but a stunning smile, complete with disarming dimples. He had shorter hair than the other man, a darker skin tone, and warm brown eyes instead of green…but damned if he wasn’t just as handsome.
“That’s highway patrol, and can’t might be a poor choice of words, ma’am. It’s obvious that I can. And you’re welcome. Just sit tight while I get Flynn and your dog so we can take you somewhere safe. She’s a pretty girl, isn’t she? What is she, a hound dog? Ridgeback? What’s her name?”
Her teeth were chattering. Actually chattering. It sounded like castanets in her head. And parts of her skin were starting to tingle. No. Not tingle. Sting. “Cur.”
He raised one dark brown eyebrow. “Her name is Cur? How unfortunate.”
Georgia rolled her eyes. “Her name is Roux. She’s a cur. And we were already on our way somewhere safe when we found your friend.”
The man reached around her and grabbed a blanket, taking the tree and keys gently out of her hands before wrapping her up. She allowed it, she told herself, because she was distracted by his spicy scent. Not because she couldn’t move her arms.
His tone was soothing. His words were not. “You were on the side of a rarely traveled road with your vehicle up on a jack in the middle of what is turning into one heck of a storm. It doesn’t seem like you were on your way to anywhere other than a bad case of pneumonia or worse. Did you try to change that tire yourself?”
Try? Was he kidding or had he time traveled from the nineteen fifties to rescue snowmobile hunk? “Look, Officer Neanderthal, I appreciate your help. Really. But I managed to change the tire and save your friend all by myself. Hard as it may be to believe. Now, my engine is still running, my tire is road-worthy and all I need is for you take your buddy and—“
“Brother,” he interrupted her. Shaking his head as he looked at her boots. “You are lucky I came along. Where are you from? Texas? Those boots may look good, but out here? You could lose a toe.”
Georgia swallowed. Oh good lord. Wouldn’t that be the perfect end to this failed experiment of a road trip? Her first time in snow and she would lose her feet. She’d be that crazy, footless writer living in the bayou with her dog and talking about the night two sexy giants ruined her future as a ballerina forever.
The officer obviously saw something resembling panic in her expression, because his own sobered and cupped her shoulder in a comforting gesture. “I said you could, but you aren’t going to.” His grip tightened. “Besides, I know the best doctor in town. Trust me…at least enough to tell me your name.”
“Georgia.” She mumbled through lips that felt swollen and raw. Defrosting was no fun at all. She was stubborn, but even she wasn’t confident enough to think she could drive in this condition. She needed help. “Not the state, my name. And I’m not from Texas. I’m from Louisiana. If you have cell service I can call my friend to pick me up. And please make sure Roux is okay.”
He nodded. “I’ll get her right now, Georgia from Louisiana. And I’ll get you a phone as soon as I lug Flynn out of your car. Later you’re going to have to tell me how someone your size got him in there in the first place. I’m James, in case you were wondering. Jimmy to my friends and women freezing on random roadsides.”
He disappeared, his body no longer a shield between her and the open truck door. She shuddered, clutching the blanket tighter. She was freezing. And she knew enough to know that there was no way she was going to warm up until she got into a change of clothes. Hers were soaked clean through.
She heard Roux bark excitedly and smiled as the wet heap of fur jumped up onto her lap. Georgia opened her blanket and enclosed her shivering companion, cuddling her close. “Good girl,” she murmured soothingly, thankful to have something other than her own discomfort to focus on. “Good girl.”
The dog’s presence and body heat was calming. Georgia leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Just a few minutes. She just needed a few minutes. So snow patrol hunk and snowmobile hunk were called Jimmy and Flynn. Brothers? They looked nothing alike, other than their above average sizes. Maybe they had different mothers.
Sexy half brothers. Georgia thought of Connie’s friend Charli’s situation and grinned. Only two men instead of three, but they would do. A girl could fantasize, couldn’t she? Especially if she desperately needed to get warm.
***
The rich voice she heard as she regained consciousness, made Georgia think of whiskey and naked fireplace make-out sessions. Whoever it belonged to was speaking in low, hushed tones beside her. “Mild hypothermia, but no injuries. She’s been asleep since Jimmy brought her in, along with our knuckleheaded Flynn.”