Page 64 of Snowed In

I have myself almost convinced by the time I get back out into the main room of the cabin, my eyes drawn uncontrollably to the bed, but it doesn’t look like West has moved.

As quietly as I can, I get the fire built back up so it starts throwing real heat out. Carla meows plaintively at me, and I gently shush her, hurrying to fill her dish and get her clean water.

I’m halfway through making breakfast, bacon sizzling away in a pan as I whisk up eggs to scramble, when I hear movement and then a groan. “God, it’s so early. Why are you awake?”

I shrug, turning to face him with the bowl of whisked eggs in myhand, but West’s face is buried underneath his pillow. Well, my pillow. I ignore how much I like the sight. “Early to bed?—”

“Early to rise,” he calls out. “Yeah, yeah.”

He pulls the pillow off and squints at me blearily, his hair disheveled in a way that makes him look younger, vulnerable. His eyes, a dark brown that looks almost black in low lighting, zero in on me where I’m still watching him from the kitchen.

“Aren’t you freezing?”

I glance down at myself. I’d pulled on a pair of flannel pants but hadn’t bothered with a shirt since the fire would warm the place up just fine. I run hot, my large body exuding heat in a way former lovers had complained about.

Though West hadn’t seemed to mind.

Notthat he’s a former, current, or future lover.

“No,” I simply say and turn back to the stovetop, pouring the eggs into the heated pan.

West mutters something I don’t quite catch, his bare feet hitting the floor and then scurrying toward the bathroom. When he comes out a few minutes later, I nearly swallow my tongue at the sight of him enveloped in one of my hoodies that I must have left in there.

“It’s freezing,” he says, stopping in front of the fire and holding his hands out.

I clear my throat and focus on breakfast, doing my best to ignore how much I like the way he looks in my clothes. Reminding myself for the umpteenth time that as soon as the snow is gone, so will West be, and it’s ridiculous to contemplate anything else.

After we eat our breakfast—me sharing a tiny bite of bacon with Carla once she joins me at the table as she does for every meal and West smiling at me in a way that makes my cock twitch in my boxers—the sun’s finally starting to lighten up the sky.

West helps me clear the table and starts on the dishes without being asked, and I like that he seems to be comfortable with the silence between us. I’m used to the quiet, but he seems like the type to like the constant hum of noise.

I can see there isn’t as much snow outside as I’d feared there would be, but it’s still enough I know West won’t be going anywhere today. Probably tomorrow either. I check my phone, confirming the temperature with the wind blowing fiercely is still single digits. Too cold for the herd, but I should be able to make my way out to the barn to check on them.

“Any news?” he asks softly when he spots me checking my phone.

I shake my head. “Just checking the temperature.”

“It doesn’t look as bad out there as I thought it would,” West says, voice hopeful, and a part of me hates that I have to dash that.

“It’ll still be at least a few days before they get the road out here done. This area of the mountain is so remote, it’s usually one of the last places.”

“Even with the resort nearby?”

I frown at him. “The resort’s over an hour away, in the valley between this peak and the next.”

West blanches at me. “What? No, I thought I was almost there. My GPS?—”

I shake my head. “I don’t know where it was taking you, but it wasn’t the resort.”

Though he is right. The owner of the place caters to wealthy people who like to pretend to rough it in the mountains and has the resources to make sure his place—and the roads around it that lead to the handful of shops and restaurants nearby—is cleared of snow as soon as possible. The main road to the resort is always a top priority. The only thing being done first after a storm is the area around the small clinic.

Sighing, West turns away. “I guess I need to call my boss and let him know I won’t be making it to meet the client.”

He seems to mostly be talking to himself, so I don’t respond, finishing up the dishes and keeping an eye on him as he wanders over to his phone. I have a booster that helps me get a signal, one of the compromises I had to make with AuntMarie so she can call or video chat with me whenever she wants to.

I try not to eavesdrop as West talks to his boss, explaining quickly how he was in an accident and is stuck an hour from the resort. “Yes, I understand, Daryn, but we’re completely snowed in here,” West says, his voice tight. He listens for a moment. “I’m sorry, again, but there is literally nothing I can do unless you want to send a plow out here to clear the path and drive me the rest of the way to the resort.”

I finish cleaning up the kitchen, smiling at the sassy response.

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