Page 4 of Cold Snap

Sipping the last of my coffee, I consider that just yesterday I was ribbing Dylan about his crush on Maya, going on about how this is guy's week and he was breaking our unwritten code. Of course I was teasing, and he knows it, but now here I am falling hard for a woman I've only spoken to for a few moments.

She's so damn pretty. Almost ethereal. That delicate little fairy face with her sexy womanly curves is a deadly combination. And she seems so wholesome and nurturing, feeding people fora living as she does. It almost killed me to see her in pain while I disinfected that cut.

Caring for Rosa ignited something deep within me. Something hidden beneath my years of being alone because I didn't have the patience for other people.

It wasn't just the instant physical reaction. Although I've never been as rock hard as when I had to pin her hand between my knees, with her delicate fingers stretched toward my… Yeah, I've been replaying that moment in my mind way too much.

I want to care for her again. As much as she wants me to. Hell, I'll make up excuses to rush in and help her.

How the hell does a man woo a woman these days?

We all top up our coffees, then head for the library. I've barely opened my book when I feel a slight vibration from my pocket.

My phone screen shows my older brother's name. "'Scuse me," I mutter, nodding to the guys as I walk to a small, unused sitting room at the front of the building. It looks like the kind of dainty place where ladies would sit around drinking tea and doing embroidery years ago.

"Barrett, hey, what's up?"

"Hey. Sorry to bother you on your luxury retreat."

I grunt in response. Barrett always acts like this annual sabbatical is some kind of girly spa excursion. I find it hilarious. Maybe he's jealous since he doesn't have many friends himself, who knows.

"Huge cold snap coming this week, apparently," he continues. "I was driving by your place and thought I should set your faucet to drip so the pipes don't freeze."

"Shit," I mutter, staring out the window at the layers of ice thickening on the tree branches outside. "I meant to do that and got distracted when I was leaving. Thank you."

"No problem. I'm standing on your front porch." Barrett snorts. "And Icouldpick the lock, but I figured I'd be polite. Did you move the key? It's not over the door frame."

"Right. Window to your left. Top left hand side of the?—"

"Got it." I hear a shuffle as he unlocks the door. "Okay, I'll run the water for a minute, turn the heat up a click, and set the drip. Anything else?"

"No, that's it. Wait – there's a container with a red lid in the fridge. Spinach salad. Eat it before it goes bad."

Another snort. "Sure thing, Popeye." There's a pause. "You okay, man? You sound…off."

Just yesterday I would have thought up some flippant insult for my brother. Today I find myself needing to open up just a crack. "I, uh, met someone."

There's a slow thud, probably Barrett dropping into my living room chair. "Really? Another guest there? Thought you guys had the place to yourself."

I lower my voice. "The cook."

I hold the phone away as Barrett howls with laughter. For such a quiet guy, he has a very loud laugh when it's directed at me. "Of course it's the cook. You're obsessed with food."

"Shut it." I'm pacing in circles around the small room, wishing that I'd pulled my boots on so I could go outside, even with the cold. "I gotta run."

"Wait. You're not going to tell me about her?"

What's to tell? That I can't stop fantasizing about Rosa? Kissing her, touching her, holding those luscious hips in my hands? Just thinking about it sends way too much of my blood rushing south.

"Not yet."

"Hmm." There's a pause. "Okay. I'll ask again in a few weeks."

"Great. Thanks for checking the house."

"Sure. Thanks for the fancy-pants salad."

He ends the call, leaving me with nothing to focus on but the blowing snow outside. Dammit, I wish they had a gym here so that I could work off some of this frustration.

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