Snowed In Read online

  “I want you to stay for the week.”

  He wanted the impossible. “I left a message for my boss promising I’d be back as soon as the roads clear. We have a series of training sessions that I need to make sure are ready to go.”

  He sat next to her on the couch and reached for her hands, taking them in his. “Stay until then. I think we have something here, and I need to know where it leads. I’ve wanted you for years, but you were too young, too engaged. And then once you were free, you wanted nothing to do with me.”

  “It’s not you personally. In the wedding aftermath, most people pretended I didn’t exist, and those who did had a lot of opinions about what I’d done wrong. I didn’t have anyone I trusted besides my friends from the sorority.

  “Things were pretty bleak for me after. I hadn’t tried to get a job because I thought I’d have a new life to set up, a husband to take care of. Chris’s success had been my parents’ retirement plan, so I couldn’t go home.” Her hands started to shake so she squeezed his tighter. “They wanted me to beg him to take me back. It’s a small town and everyone whispers way too loud. Even now I’ll hear, That’s the girl who was going to marry Chris Brooks, the basketball player, but he never made it to the church. He called the whole thing off.

  “I had to start over from nothing. And I did a pretty good job. I’ve gotten over him and the hurt, but that doesn’t mean I want to see his friends, wonder if they were laughing at me too.”

  He shook his head. “No one was laughing that day.”

  “He did.” Her jaw started to tremble so she clenched her teeth and blinked away the tears threatening to fall. Scott released her hands and reached for her, pulling her against his chest. Her instinct was to resist because she could take care of herself, but it felt good to know that in this moment she didn’t have to. “I don’t know why you want to talk about this. It was the worst day of my life and I don’t like to remember it, let alone relive it.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t want to make it worse for you. I just want you to see me as who I am now, not who I was. I need you to stay, to see if we can replace those bad memories with good ones.”

  “And then what?” She turned her head and found him gazing down at her, with a tenderness that made her heart squeeze.

  “Then we decide if we want to keep seeing each other. But that’s a decision for next week. I want to know if you’ll stay, and if we can see where this goes.”

  “I don’t have a choice about staying. We’re stuck.”

  He shook his head. “If you really want to go back to the lodge, I’ll take you.”

  She sat up. “What? How?”

  “There are lots of ways, none of them fast or easy. We can always snowshoe out, take a snowmobile, or I could try to plow our way down. It’s not that we’re snowed in, but the rest of the world is snowed out.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “If I can go back, I should. I need to go to work.”

  “I could get you to the lodge, but I can’t do anything about the highway. And your car is going to be stuck in the lodge parking lot for at least a few days. I don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped here with me if you don’t want to be.”

  “If I stay, what are we going to do?”

  “Get you out of this dress for one.” He traced her collarbone, sparkles of sensation blooming there. “I don’t think this cabin has ever seen anything so fancy. Then I can show you the place, we could ski or snowshoe or make snow angels for all I care.”

  “And then come in and warm up by the fire?” When he nodded she pushed further. “Naked?”

  He smiled wide. “Preferably.”

  “What kind of naked are we talking about here? Because earlier you shot me down and it kind of hurt my feelings.”

  He trailed the back of his fingers down her cheek. “I didn’t mean to. I think we could be great together. Some of the best conversations I’ve ever had were with you. There isn’t anything I want more than to make love to you. But I need to make sure I’m not the only one in that.”

  “And if I say no?”

  He winced. “Then I give you the tour of the place and we ski and snowshoe and make snow angels and come inside and warm up in front of the fire with our clothes on. And instead of playing in bed, we’d play board games.”

  She nodded and for a brief moment wished she were a liar. She wanted him, but not to the point of dishonesty. “As soon as the roads are clear, I’m going home. Back to my job and my apartment and my life. That’s why I thought it was a bad idea to start anything last night. When I’m thinking straight, I know there’s no space for anything between us. Your life is here and mine is in Portland and without traffic and snowstorms it’s over a three-hour drive.”

  “Give it the week.”

  She shook her head. “I’d love to spend the next couple days having marathon sex, but it’s not like we can be more. I don’t have time for a relationship, especially a long-distance one.”

  “Got it.” He nodded and rose, then shoved his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans. “Why don’t you work this morning while the generator is running, and I’ll clean up outside. After lunch I’ll show you around, maybe go snowshoeing.”

  “The only outdoor activity I like is running, but I’m not going to get anywhere in this weather. I don’t suppose you have a treadmill hiding somewhere.”

  “No, I’m not a hamster.” He cast a glance at the door, like he couldn’t wait to get away from her. “If you don’t want to explore outside you can keep working, or watch a movie or whine when I beat you at chess.”

  “I don’t lose at chess.” Forget butterflies in her stomach, she had a whole wasp’s nest going on. “Just to be clear here, I’m telling you I want to have sex with you until I have to leave and you’d rather play in the snow.”

  “I’m telling you I think we could be more than sex.” He pushed a hand through his hair, making it look even more rumpled than before. “If you need anything I’ll be outside.”

  He put on his jacket and left without another word. She put her hands on her hips and sighed. They were in for a long, frustrating next few days.

  The rhythm of shoveling snow helped ease Scott’s disappointment. Something about the shove, scoop, and toss soothed him. Marissa might think he was only good for sexcapades, but he could clear a path like nobody’s business. He really wanted to fire up his snowmobile and ride far and fast, make a few jumps, spray some powder, clear his head.

  Leaving Marissa alone at the cabin wasn’t even a possibility. He wanted to stay close to ensure she didn’t get spooked. Even though she didn’t see him as relationship material, he still had the strange desire to give her whatever she needed. Even if that meant he had to pack her up and deliver her back to the lodge.

  “We’re never getting out of here, are we?” Marissa stood on the porch, dwarfed by his parka, her feet shoved into a pair of his boots. He couldn’t help but smile as fat clumps of snowflakes fell between them. “This is some kind of blizzard and you don’t want to scare me.”

  “It’s just a storm. In a few days it will rain and turn everything into a muddy mess.” He leaned on his shovel and grinned at how out of place she looked on his porch. If she expected to explore dressed like that, they wouldn’t even make it to the shed before her bare, toned legs turned red. She’d sprint back inside. “Did you come out for the tour? It’ll be easier after I’m done with the path.”

  She shook her head. “Do you mind if I bake cookies or something? I need a sugar fix.”

  “You’re hungry because you didn’t eat breakfast. There’s candy in the cupboard next to the fridge.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Black licorice and peppermints. This level of sexual frustration requires chocolate.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh. “Does it now?”

  “Sugar helps, though this is an extreme case. It might require wine.” Her blue eyes sparkled and she grinned. “The last time we had wine you were far more accommodating. Maybe we should
start with wine.”

  “It’s not even noon.”

  “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” She gave him a look that made his cock take notice.

  “Stay there.” He trudged to the shed and took a deep breath. He needed to be more in control of his reactions or he’d wind up lost in her before lunch. He opened the freezer chest and found the box he wanted, then schooled his features before he brought it to her on the porch. “There’s five flavors in here. One of my tour guides’ daughter did a fundraiser. When I ordered them I thought they’d be cookies I could put in the break room, not bake.”

  She took the box with both hands and sighed. “You would really rather feed me twenty pounds of cookies than sleep with me?”

  “Pretty sure I got shot down a little harder in this one than you did.” He hoped his smile kept her from seeing how deeply he’d wanted her to say yes.

  She stomped her boots against the porch. “Would you rather I lie about it? Tell you what you want to hear to get in your pants and then take it all back when I have to leave? I’m not a dude.”

  His gut twisted, hating that she’d had a rough time with the assholes of the world. “I thought work was more important. Go do that.”

  “You were right about the Internet. And it’s Sunday, so I can’t even call to confirm with the vendors for next week.”

  “Think of this as a vacation from reality. Do whatever it is you do to recharge.” And go back inside where I’m not tempted to kiss you until you understand what we could be.

  She shrugged and adjusted the box on her hip. “Sundays are for pedicures or brunch. We’ve already had breakfast and I had my nails done yesterday.” She shoved her hand out of the sleeve and wiggled her fingers. “Just Married pink, Tanya’s choice.”

  “And the rest of the time?” He stepped back and leaned against the fence post. She got him hard by sheer proximity.

  “Errands and chores I suppose. Or reading. But I don’t have my e-reader with me because I didn’t think I’d have time. I have a spare audio book, but it’s in my car buried under snow.”

  “There are classics on the bookshelves downstairs, and newer stuff in my office.”

  “I doubt we have the same taste in books, Mr. Classics.”

  “Those were my grandfather’s. They look much better on the shelves than paperbacks. There’s a little bit of everything on the bookshelves upstairs. Even my mom’s sob stories and romances. My dad has thrillers, but since you’re afraid of the dark I’d stay away from those.”

  “Ha, ha. I thought you said this place is yours.” She pulled her hand back inside the parka, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold.

  “It’s mine. They’ll come out for holidays and long weekends, especially in the winter. The guys go skiing while my mom snowboards.” His boots almost came halfway to her knees, the parka hitting mid-thigh. She might be all woman, but she looked like a little kid playing dress-up.

  “Your mother snowboards?”

  “Yeah, she’s a trip. You’d like her.” His heart grew heavy in his chest. They would get along great, if Marissa saw him as relationship material and not a fun way to pass the time.

  Their eyes met, held. He needed to know her better, to read the waves of emotions that rolled across her face. He wondered if she felt the same frustrated hopefulness, the desire to discover and explore each other while they put the world away for a while.

  She broke the connection and gave him a wistful smile. “How much longer are you going to be out here, avoiding me?”

  “I’m not avoiding you. I’m clearing a path to the shed and around the cabin. I’ll be in before lunch.” After he’d figured out a way to relax around her instead of touching and kissing and more.

  “Oh, you’re avoiding me. You’re thinking your no-sex-without-a-relationship idea is wack. I mean, it’s not my usual MO but this is a special circumstance. I’ll have cookies when you want to come inside.” She gave him a wink. “See what I did there, come inside?”

  “You’re incorrigible.” He’d missed the sassy way she transitioned from aloof to friendly, Ball-busting to nurturing, funny to intense.

  “I get a thrill out of watching the bulge in your jeans grow. I have to entertain myself somehow.”

  He shook his head. “Sure you won’t miss the thrill after you leave?”

  She blinked and he knew he was onto something. “I don’t have time to think about that when I’m home.”

  “And yet after a day with me, it’s all you can think about.” She blinked again, her eyes closing for a beat too long. He’d quipped back as a joke, but his words had an unexpected effect. He lowered his voice and inched toward the danger zone. “I’d bet you’re wet right now, just watching me work.”

  She licked her lips, but didn’t deny it. Maybe he was on the wrong track pushing her for a relationship before they’d made love. Sex might be the only way she’d allow him anywhere near her heart.

  “Go bake your cookies, Marissa. And figure out when you have time for me to visit you in Portland.”

  “I meant what I said, Scott. I don’t want you to think there can be more with us.”

  “After you’ve had it, how long do you think you can go without a fix? You weren’t sure you wanted me last night, and now you’re trying to get in my pants every chance you get. I’m betting you won’t even last a week before you’re begging me to visit.”

  He left her standing there, her mouth gaping open, and he went back to what he could do. Shovel the snow, toss it aside. The repetition left his mind free to come up with a new plan. One that turned the tables on sweet Marissa and had her wanting more from him than a good time.

  T-shirts, flannels, a polo, a dress shirt, and yesterday’s tuxedo. Scott’s closet didn’t hold many clothing options, at least not for her. She crossed to his dresser and prayed the drawers had something she could wear. With the snow still falling, she felt beyond ridiculous in her dress. And cold. The fire was burning down and for some reason the log she’d put on top of it never lit up. She’d put on the flannel he laid out for her this morning, but it wasn’t enough.

  She pulled open the top drawer and wrinkled her nose. What kind of monster just tossed their underwear in a drawer haphazardly? Drawer number two was only marginally better. Wool socks were paired together, but athletic socks were a disorganized heap. Next came folded white tees and a hooded sweatshirt. She clutched it to her chest, relieved at least half of her would be warm.

  The other half was her main problem. She could cover her body in a dress or her sleep shirt and running shorts. But that left much too much skin exposed. His jeans and cargo pants were of no use to her. The neat way he’d folded and rolled his colorful collection of graphic T-shirts gave her hope for his organizational skills. She knelt on the floor and chanted, “Please be shorts, please be shorts.”

  Jackpot! The man owned way too much cargo, but basketball shorts she could work with. She tossed her spoils on the bed, then undressed quickly in the chill air. She dove into his sweatshirt, but a knock on the window stopped her heart before she could get her head out.

  Scott’s catch-me-if-you-can grin didn’t help matters. And neither did the nude briefs she wore. She should have packed something for a romantic possibility, but she hadn’t bothered with one in so long it wasn’t even on her radar anymore. She closed her eyes and shook her head. When she looked up Scott had vanished. Of course.

  They needed to have another one of his talks. Because Mr. No Sex wanted to hit the sheets just as much as she did. Otherwise he wouldn’t have played the peeping Tom.

  The shorts she pulled on hit her at a truly unattractive place mid-calf. Between his bulky sweatshirt and the oversized culottes, she looked like she weighed eleventy thousand pounds. She tried to cinch the waist on the shorts, but the damned things didn’t have any drawstring. She held her shorts up with one hand as she pilfered his wool socks, pulling them up as high as she could, covering the bottom half of her lower leg. The way she saw it, exposing fo
ur inches of leg was an improvement. Now she needed to find something that would hold the shorts up so she didn’t have to.

  She marched into the kitchen after the only thing that came to mind. She opened cabinets and pulled drawer handles until she saw it. The perfect solution, she hoped. She gathered the waist of the shorts and reached for the chip clip. She might look silly, but she could feel the warmth already.

  She carried her dress up the stairs and laid it on the bed she’d never slept in. She peered out the window, but didn’t see a trace of Scott. She’d kept track of him all morning while he worked and she tried not to die of boredom. From his office window she scanned the horizon without any better luck. The snow came down fast, mounding on the tops of fence posts, tree branches drooping under the weight.

  It looked beautiful, like a postcard come to life. Scott knew exactly what to do with his quiet confidence, as much a part of this corner of the world as the cabin or the land. She hated depending on anyone, but she needed him to help her through this. Which was why it unnerved her that she’d lost him.

  If he’d gotten hurt and she needed to go find him, they might both freeze to death. She needed to take some kind of class to learn what to do in a snow emergency, or avoid snow altogether, which seemed like a smarter option. She checked the window one last time, then grabbed a few books from the shelves and turned to go.

  The division championship team photo on his wall couldn’t have hit her harder if she’d been smacked with it. He had every right to be proud of having been on a college basketball team that made it to the Sweet Sixteen. Scott graduated that year, and the next season the team made it to the Elite Eight.