Page 35 of Snowed Under

I wait until she pulls out of the lot first, then follow behind as the snow lightly falls. It’s not enough to blanket the ground, but the forecast is showing it’s only going to increase in the next couple of weeks.

I like the fact that I’m not going home yet and the idea that she wanted to have coffee after dinner. I shake my head thinking about when I got up to pay the check and Cassie was still trying to make flirty small talk with me and not seeming to care I was there with Ainsley. That kind of pissed me off, actually.

Ains took it all in her stride, of course. I don’t think she has a mean bone in her body.

I enjoyed eating out with her, and I like hearing what she has to say. She’s like a breath of fresh fucking air. Fresher than anything I’ve ever known. I didn’t like what she said earlier about never getting many compliments from men and the fact she saw herself as boring. It’s just a stereotypical thing because she’s smart, dresses sophisticated and she works in a library. But she’s so much more than that and a big part of me thinks she doesn’t see it. At least, iftoday’s reaction is anything to go by.

I mean, we both know we’re attracted to one another. That whole fake dating thing at the dance got us both going, but more importantly, I’m glad I could be there for her when that idiot ex showed up. Aside from the broken nose, it sure gave him something to think about. What gets me the most is how the dumb-fuck thought she was just going to roll over and drool because he wanted her back. What a loser.

Well, he’s not having her. Not on my watch. And I don’t think he could wangle his way back in on Ainsley’s watch, either.

I want to tell her it wasn’t all for show. First, I did what I did to help her out. Second, I like her and I’m sure our kiss in the infirmary cemented that fact.

But it still lingers in my mind that she doesn’t have much confidence and she thinks she’s too boring for me. I know my reputation for being a ladies man doesn’t help, but I’ve never been into anyone the way I’m into her. I can’t explain it.

I like the fact there’s a little resistance there, even though she’s attracted to me. I like the fact she isn’t just letting me slide my way into her bed as much as I’d love her to.

She’s making me work for it, and I dig that. I’m here for it.

When I park my truck, I quickly duck over to my place to shower and use the bathroom. I check out my reflection in the mirror, messing up my damp hair a little and decide it’ll do.

I glance over at Fudge, who’s kindly graced me with his presence. I’m surprised he’s even here, but there he lies on his bed near the window, stretched out like he’s God’s gift to mankind.

“Fancy a cat-nip over at Ainsley’s?” I chortle at my own joke. “If you do, little guy, you know where I’ll be.” I head off in the direction of Ainsley’s place and I swear to God I hear him meow behind me.

CHAPTER 11

AINSLEY

I’mglad I spent the day doing laundry and tidying the house. My hard work of unpacking and getting everything sorted out is now paying off with Cole coming over. Not that I’m a messy person, but it takes time when you’ve just moved to get everything in its place. I fling my meeting notes on the kitchen table and quickly check my appearance in the hall mirror, smoothing my hair out before pottering around the kitchen. I grab out my nice pottery coffee mugs. It’s like my version of breaking out the good China when someone important comes over. And Cole is someone special.

My fingers absently find my lips again, tracing them over while I think back to that kiss under the moonlight earlier before dinner — my golly, his lips are spectacular. And the way he kept looking at me with those intense, liquid honey eyes over the table at the meeting. I’m sure Pastor Rick cottoned on to what we were up to, but I can’t be certain. I can’t help my reaction to him; accelerated breathing, pebbled nipples and heat pooling between my thighs. I had to clench them together under the table.

There’s nothing that this man can’t do. Ican’t even imagine what it would be like to be with him for real… in bed. I mean, I can because I’ve been thinking about it, but it’s also an intimidating thought. I haven’t had much experience, and things weren’t exactly passionate with my ex. In fact, I’m not even sure I like sex. Which is pretty dumb, sex is pretty basic, right?

It takes a while for me to get to know a guy and feel comfortable. Cole just seems so wise in the ways of the world, and so experienced. I don’t know if I’d even measure up to his expectations — or even what those expectations are?

I mean, I know now that he’s into me, that much seems certain. He was certainly acting like it in the restaurant, and he didn’t have to touch me or call me babe.

I just never thought I’d be his type… I’m still struggling with that part.

A knock at the back door has my body stupidly jumping, sending my wayward thoughts on their way. I know it’s him, but that firm rap on the wood seems to jolt me out of my reverie and back to the present moment. My heart flutters and the butterflies dance in my stomach. I smooth out the top of my hair again, still tied up in a high pony, and I move to the door to let him in.

My pulse continues to strum when he’s standing in front of me with that cheeky smile playing around his lips. He leans against the doorjamb.

“Any chance of a cup of sugar from my sexy little neighbor? I seem to have run out.”

I laugh and hold a palm up to my face to hide my embarrassment. I don’t know if this will get any easier with him. “Always with the sugar, huh?”

He laughs too, as I invite him in with a flickof my wrist. “I bet you don’t even have any, do you?” he says.

“Some would say I’m sweet enough.”

His eyes dance with amusement as he glances around when I welcome him inside. “I like what you’ve done with the place.” My kitchen is compact, with a round pine dining table over to one side and white timber cabinets lining the walls. There’s an old-fashioned dresser next to the table storing all my pottery and special things.

“I’m trying to make it my own.” I feel comfortable in this space. It’s cozy. It’s even cozier with Cole in my home, taking up all the space. All six feet of him in his dark jeans and navy blue flannel shirt. He’s so damned sexy and smells like a dream.

“You’ve achieved that. Mr. and Mrs. Curruthers liked clutter, and those little porcelain dolls from the home shopping channel. Used to scare the heck out of Fudge.”

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