Snowed In Read online

  “It does. Sorta. I mean, I think I get what you’re saying. So if I didn’t have a girlfriend, how many dates would we have?”

  I released a big sigh. “Hard to say.”

  “What’s the most you’ve ever had with one guy?”

  “Three.”

  “It must be hard to break up with someone.”

  “There’s no breaking up. We just stop dating.”

  “Right.”

  “Nathalie’s probably wondering where you are.”

  “Probably. I’d better go.” He tapped the DVD clutched in my gloved hand. “Call if you get scared.”

  He turned on his heel and walked away. I should have gone into the house, but I didn’t. I stood there until I couldn’t see him anymore.

  I hadn’t even started to watch the movie yet, and I was scared.

  Scared that I’d never meet anyone I wanted to be with as badly as I wanted to be with Josh.

  13

  The next morning I woke up and could barely move my legs without moaning. Apparently the day before I’d used muscles in my thighs that I hadn’t even realized I had.

  I hobbled down the stairs. It was really quiet on the second floor. No one was working yet.

  I slowly made my way to the kitchen. Mom and Mr. Wynter were sitting at the table drinking coffee. The room smelled like bacon and maple syrup. Mom must have fixed breakfast.

  “Are you okay?” Mom asked.

  “Yeah, just a little sore from the trek I made yesterday.” I shuffled to the counter and poured my coffee, prepped it just the way I liked it, and took a long sip.

  Leaning against the counter, I thought about asking if Josh was here. But would that make them wonder why I cared?

  “Why don’t you come sit down?” Mom asked.

  “Because I’m afraid if I sit, I may never be able to get back up.” I glanced over at Mr. Wynter. “I guess Josh isn’t sore.”

  “I doubt it, but he had something to take care of today, so he won’t be working with me.”

  I was surprised by the disappointment that hammered into me. I looked out the window at the mounds of white and thought of kissing in the snow…

  Great, just great. Was everything going to remind me of him?

  I spent the morning finishing off the stenciling in the guestroom—although my thighs protested climbing the ladder. Then I went to my bedroom and began designing the website for the B&B. Mom had already given me a lot of the information that she wanted to publicize, so I just had to organize it, design some graphics, and use the creative side of my brain.

  I love doing the layout of a new page, and normally, I get lost in the process. But today I found myself staring through the window toward Nathalie’s house, wondering if what Josh had to do involved being with her. Maybe he was feeding her chicken noodle soup. Rubbing her feet. Warming up blankets for her.

  Confessing that he’d kissed me.

  I didn’t understand why I kept thinking about him. I never thought about a guy this much.

  The knock outside my room barely registered with me.

  “Door’s open!”

  It opened slowly, and Josh peered inside. “Actually, it’s not.”

  I tried to act calm and cool by just sitting in my chair, but it’s one of those with a swiveling seat and I almost made myself dizzy by how much half swiveling I was doing, one way, then the other, back and forth, back and forth.

  “That’s just an expression,” I said.

  “But it’s wrong.”

  I couldn’t believe how glad I was to see him. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting Mr. Dictionary.”

  Grinning, he tossed something at me. I caught the plastic jar before it crashed to the floor. “What’s this?”

  “A warm therapy gel. You rub it on your legs to help ease the stiffness.”

  “How did you know I was stiff?”

  “Lucky guess.”

  I wrapped both my hands around it. “Thanks. I am pretty sore.”

  “The balm is all-natural. I use it all the time after games. I brought you something else, too.” He opened the door wider and carried in a bookshelf.

  “Oh, wow!” I set the jar on the desk and got to my feet. Groaning with the sudden movement, I walked toward him like I’d turned into a zombie.

  The shelf fit perfectly in the little nook where the ceiling slanted. At the narrow end where books couldn’t fit, he’d put little cubbyholes.

  “Thought you could put your little mice in those,” he said.

  “That’s great!” I ran my hand over one of the smooth shelves. “I didn’t expect it to be this nice. Really, I don’t know how to thank you.”

  I looked at him then and sorta wished I hadn’t, because I had a feeling he was thinking that a kiss would be a great way to say thank you.

  “How’s Nathalie?” I felt compelled to ask, to remind him—and me—that there was someone else.

  “She’s good.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Our conversation was in danger of putting me to sleep.

  He moved from beneath the low ceiling so he could stand up straight.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said.

  Okay, that woke me up.

  “You have to.” I moved to the desk and picked up the jar. “Thanks for everything.”

  “Do you think about me?”

  “Not really.”

  “Not at all?”

  “Look, there’s another woman in my dad’s life, and I don’t like the way it makes me feel or makes my mom feel, so I’m not going to do that to someone.”

  He nodded. “You’re right. So, you going on the hayride tonight?”

  “Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

  Or a reason that it’s any of your business?

  “Nah, I was just curious.”

  “Yeah, I’m planning to go.”

  “Good. I’ll catch you later, then.”

  I watched him walk out of my room. Then I looked at the shelves and I knew I’d lied.

  Did I think about him?

  Almost every minute of every hour since he’d kissed me.

  14

  I figured the best way to stop thinking about Josh was to focus on Chase. Maybe I’d even break my dating record with him and go for an amazing four dates.

  So I decided to take this hayride seriously. I was going to wear knockout clothes. Or as close to knockout as I could get and still be warm. Which actually, when I got right down to it, meant no knockout at all.

  I stuffed the legs of my jeans into my fur-lined boots and mentally patted myself on the back for being smart enough to purchase them. My feet, at least, should be warm, especially since I’d insulated them with two layers of socks.

  I wore a thin sweater beneath my thick sweater and wrapped a woolen scarf around my neck.

  Since the goal was to capture Chase’s attention, I decided to go without a woolen cap pulled down over my ears. I mean, how cold could it be? In the wagon, wouldn’t the sides act as a buffer against the wind? And wouldn’t I be snuggled against Chase anyway?

  I thought about wearing my leather jacket. It was usually all I wore during the winter in Texas. But when I looked outside and saw a few flakes of snow drifting through the glow of the street lamps, I decided to be more practical. I put on my thick parka, which pretty much ruined the hot look I’d been trying to attain.

  Unless I wore it unzipped. Then it didn’t look too bad. I would have to see how long I could go with the cold wind battering my chest before I gave in and zipped it up.

  “Zip up your coat,” Mom said when I came downstairs.

  “Mom, I’ll be fine.”

  Chase was standing in the entryway. I wondered if Mr. Wynter could wire the doorbell so it would sound in my bedroom. I never knew when people had arrived.

  Chase was wearing jeans, a sweater with polar bears on it, and a jacket that wasn’t buttoned. I had a feeling he wouldn’t button it, no matter how co