She smelled so good. Even as Justin tried to concentrate on not hitting Mrs. Wilson’s car while backdragging the plow to clear the snow from behind it, he was aware of how delicious Claire smelled. Which, of course, led him directly back to those thoughts about how good she tasted he’d sworn he wasn’t going to think anymore.

“How was opening day?” she asked, and it took him a few seconds to clear his head and realize she was talking about snowmobiling.

“It was good. Chris and I put on about sixty miles. Not a lot, but they’re still getting the trails in shape and it was a good shakedown run.” Mrs. Wilson’s driveway was done, so he raised the plow and pulled out onto the road to head to the next place.

“That’s good.” She was staring out the side window and he wondered what she was thinking about. “Is Brendan’s snowmobile still in your garage?”

That answered that. “Yeah.”

“I was thinking about learning how to drive it. Maybe go out with you sometimes.”

He laughed and nudged her arm with his elbow. “You? Out in the woods in the freezing cold?”

“I might like it.”

“Or you might whine.”

She turned away from the window to slap at him. “I don’t whine.”

When he grabbed her wrist to keep her from hitting him, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to slide his hand down and interlock his fingers with hers. She didn’t pull away and he rested their joined hands on the seat between them.

“If you really want to ride, I’ll teach you,” he said. “But Brendan’s machine’s too much for you. If you’re serious, I’ll take it and trade it in for something more your speed.”

“Would that bother you? Letting it go, I mean.”

He could see her watching his profile through the corner of his eyes, so he shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s just a sled, Claire. I started it up the other day and was thinking it was a damn shame, the way it just sits there.”

“You love snowmobiling more than anything,” she said softly. “I’d like to do that with you.”

He squeezed her fingers. “I’ll call the shop and see what kind of deal they’ll give me.”

Then he had to let her go, needing both hands to navigate down the dirt road that led to the Swenson house. The town did a half-ass job of plowing the road, but they didn’t touch the driveways. Harry Swenson lived in the last house on the road, isolated from his neighbors. He worked nights, so he’d already left. Justin would give it a quick swipe to make it easier for him to get home.

While he worked, she went back to staring out her window, which worried him. She was usually a chatterbox while they were out plowing, to the point he’d sometimes regret taking her because she wouldn’t shut up.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked her, putting the truck in Park and killing the headlights so he could give her his full attention.

“Kissing you again,” she said to the window.

He was surprised the windows didn’t fog up from the rush of heat that washed over him. “You pro or con?”

“I’m still afraid it’ll ruin our friendship in the long run.”

“I hate to say it, but having it between us all the time like the big, horny elephant in the room isn’t doing it any favors, either.”

“So what are we going to do about it?”

What he should do was put the truck in gear, put his foot on the gas and drop her off-alone-at her apartment. What he did instead was shove a whole bunch of crap onto the passenger side floor and then take her hand to tug her over to his side of the truck. “What do you think we should do about it?”

“Maybe we just need to…get it out of our systems.”

There was no way that was ever going to happen. “We could just play it by ear.”

Since she was already kicking off her boots, he figured she was okay with that idea. “Can anybody see us?”

“No.” It was getting warm in the truck all of a sudden, so he reached out and slid the fan controls down to low. So what if the windows fogged up? As a matter of fact, he was hoping they would.

She kissed him, long and slow and sweet, while their elbows bumped into things because she was trying to shimmy out of her jeans and he was trying to get a condom from his wallet in the back pocket of his.

“Slow down,” he whispered against her mouth.

“Can’t. Don’t want to. I need you, Justin.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Once he got his wallet free, he lifted his hips enough to drag his jeans down and covered himself with the condom. Then she covered him with her and the windows steamed like a sauna.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the night of the Christmas party,” she said, her breath against his cheek as she moved slowly, stroking him.

He’d been thinking about it a lot longer than that, but it wasn’t the time for that discussion. Not when she was moving up and down like that, making him forget…whatever it was keeping them from doing this all the damn time. It wasn’t going to last long and then he’d probably remember, but for now all he knew was the feel of her body, her breasts in his hands and her mouth against his.

He felt her body tensing and he wanted to slow her down, but she was in control and she quickened the pace until he thought he’d explode. She dug her nails into his shoulders as she came and, with a groan, he let himself go.

It was a few hot, breathless minutes before Claire kissed his neck and climbed off him. With nowhere else to put it, he fished around under the seat for an empty doughnut bag, dropped the condom in it and balled it up.

All he had to do was yank up his jeans, but he gave her an extra couple minutes in the foggy cocoon of the cab to get most of her clothes on before turning the defroster to high, just in case somebody was watching. She was laughing as she leaned down to find her boots, and he flipped on the dome light to help. Her left hand was braced against the dash and the unexpected glimpse of white skin where her wedding band had been killed any desire he’d had to laugh along with her.

He’d done it again, dammit. And he didn’t feel any better about it this time than he had after the last time.

Claire finally got herself straightened out and flopped into her seat, buckling her seatbelt. “I really needed that.”

He turned off the dome light, thankful for the sudden blanket of darkness broken only by the dim dashboard lights. “Yeah, me too.”

She was the one who took his hand this time and he started the drive back to her place with his head all screwed up. Part of him was happy and sated and wanted to curl up in Claire’s bed and fall asleep. The other part was disgusted. He’d not only slept with his buddy’s girl again, but he’d done it knowing it put his friendship with her back on shaky ground.

“So you’ll call the dealership about Brendan’s sled?” she asked after a few miles. “Soon? I really want to go riding with you.”

A hard jab of grief hit him in the gut at the thought of trading in the sled, along with a fresh rush of guilt. Taking Brendan’s girl. Getting rid of his sled. It was too much. “Yeah. I’ll let you know what they say.”

She didn’t say anything else and, when she let go of his hand to hit the skip button on the CD player when a song came on she didn’t like, he shifted his right hand to the steering wheel. She didn’t seem to notice though. Just started singing along with the next song and pointing out her favorite Christmas lights as they passed the cheery houses.

Tightening his grip, he concentrated on the road and fought the urge to pull over so he could beat his head against the steering wheel. He’d managed to screw everything up this time, only this time it was worse. Not only was there no alcohol to blame, no matter how flimsy that excuse had been, but she didn’t seem to have any regrets. He couldn’t let her think they were starting anything.

When he finally pulled into her driveway, he put the truck in Park, wondering how the hell he was going to get himself out of this. He just wanted to go home, max out the iPod’s volume and beat the crap out of the speed bag hanging in his basement for a while.

Claire was scowling up at her window, though, and not paying any attention to him. “I know I left the kitchen light on.”

But the apartment was dark now, which meant he’d have to go upstairs with her. He shut off the truck and put his hand out. “Give me your keys.”

She was on his heels as he went up the stairs and unlocked her door. The living room light went on when he flipped the switch and everything looked untouched. Moxie twisted around his ankles before moving on to Claire to be picked up and coddled. He peeked into her bathroom and bedroom and didn’t find anything out of place, so he dragged the kitchen chair over to the sink and climbed up to remove the light bulb over it.

“Burned out. You got another one?”

“Over the microwave. Hold on.”

He watched her as she set the cat down and stretched to reach the box of light bulbs. She looked…happy. Relaxed. And she smiled up at him as he took the bulb from her hand. “You’re a pretty handy guy.”

“Yeah.” He took his time screwing in the new bulb and replacing the cover, but it was still only a few minutes before it was time to face the music.

She’d taken off her sweatshirt and was curled on the couch with her feet tucked under Moxie for warmth. Pausing in the act of reaching for the remote control, she gave him a funny look. “What’s wrong?”

“I should get going. It’s been a long night.”

The happy glow faded a little, but she was still smiling. “Why don’t you just stay here? There’s no sense in making the drive home when you’ve got to go out early in the morning to finish up.”

“I can’t stay, Claire.” And that pretty much killed the last of the happy on her face.