So here’s a snippet from chapter 3 of Polar Shift. This Sig Olson and Holly Rowan’s story. I’m still working on which direction I want to go with story.
The silence lengthened as they drove out of Mistletoe and toward the NPI building that housed the med center on the edge of town. Nether one of them knew what to say. After fifteen long minutes the front of a sleek, white two story building came into view. It was in the middle of a flat, snowy area, the perimeter of the building surrounded by dim lights. Sig brought the SUV to a halt in front of the steps leading up to the doors. Holly shifted in her seat, reaching with one hand to unlatch her seatbelt, the bag with now cold dinner gripped in her other one. Sig turned his head, studying at her.
“We need to talk, Holly.” His tone was throaty. Her eyes flashed to his face, already shaking her head no. “Yes,” he reached over and fingered a strand of red hair that had escaped her pony tail when she’d pushed back her hood after getting in the car. He stared at his fingers as he caressed the silken strands between them.
Holly stilled. “Mistletoe is a small town, Holly, we see each other around town, we work in the same building and I don’t want what…”
“Don’t,” she said, her voice quivering as she too watched his stroking fingers.
“We have unfinished business…”
“Unfinished business?” She looked at him now, her eyes in the shadowy car narrowed on him. “Was that all I… we were to you? Business?” She wrenched her hair free of his touch and fumbled with the door handle, thrusting it open and sliding out of the car.
“Holly, wait!” Sig throw open his own door, appearing next to her before she could even blink. He grasped both of her arms, her bagged dinner falling to the snowy ground as he pinned them to her side. “You know that’s not true.” He insisted quietly.
“Do I?” she countered. “What I do know is that I thought we had something between us, Sig. Something…” She broke off and took in a deep breath of the icy night air and glared up at him. “You know, just skip it. Forget those six months in the Afghan desert, forget that I fell in love with you, forget the plans we made before you…” She couldn’t finish.
Tears pooled in her eyes but she’d be damned if she let him see them. She jerked back, struggling to free herself from his grasp. Sig tightened his grip on her, tugging her into his arms, trapping her arms between their bodies. He tilted his head, his lips hovering just above hers.
“I haven’t forgotten a fucking thing.” He rasped, his eyes locked with hers.
“Let me go-”
“Not a chance in hell, sweetheart.” His lips crashed down on hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth when she gasped.