Page 12 of My Greatest Joy

I pat my stomach. “I do love me some cereal.”

She snorts, and I swear a faint smile touches her lips, but it quickly vanishes. “Fine, I’ll help as long as you don’t make me cook.”

“Deal.”

We go through the process again. Dasher closely follows her every move, and she curses when she trips over him during the final load.

“You okay?” Luckily, I catch her before she does a face-plant on the floor.

“No, I’m not.” She blows out a frustrated huff, and I quickly release her. “I don’t have coffee, internet, or any type of delivery services. When I’m pissed or annoyed, I usually go for a run, and now I can’t even do that!”

“Fallon…” I say carefully, hoping to pull her off the ledge.

“For all I know, you’re a murderer and put up thefake listingto get me here. It’s probably why you live out in the middle of fucking nowhere! Trap your victims in your big, secluded mountain cabin and then slaughter them.”

“Mm-hmm…and I suppose I’m to blame for this blizzard too, right? I mean, I must’ve planned that. Summoned the angels above to bring us over twenty inches of snow and hurricane-force winds. I had to make sure you had no possible way to call for help or have access to your precious outside world. Damn, you caught me.”

“Don’t deflect with a smart-ass attitude. I watch enough true crime to know how serial killers premeditate their kills.”

I chuckle, entertained by her theory. “If that were my plan, wouldn’t I have killed you already instead of given you a place to sleep?”

“Some psychos enjoy playing with their prey first. Get me to trust you, and then that’s when you make your lethal move.” She makes a throat-slit motion, and I crack up.

“No wonder you’re a writer. You have quite the imagination.”

“But you’re not denying it. Your nickname is probably…The Christmas Serial Killer. OrTheMountain Cabin Slayer.” She arches a suspicious brow, mimicking her throat-slicing move again.

The accusation has me holding in a laugh.

Instead, I dip down to her ear and whisper hoarsely, “Keep talking shit, and I’ll put a pearl necklace around your throat instead.”

“Uh…” She looks thoroughly confused until it finally hits her. Her jaw drops and her eyes widen with the realization.

I flash her a wink as the blood drains from her face.

Fuck, she’s too damn easy to mess with, and although it’s fun to rile her up, I have to finish gathering supplies right now.

“I’m gonna grab the extra lanterns, flashlights, and batteries. I have a kerosene lamp, too, in case we’re without power for a while.”

She stays glued to the couch with Dasher next to her. I quickly build a fire since the house has a chill from the door being open, then search for everything we’ll need.

When I return, she silently watches me like she’s concerned I’ll gut her like a fish.

“Hungry?” I ask.

“Sure.” Fallon sounds less than enthusiastic. While I’m sympathetic because she’s not used to this, she better suck it up. This storm is just getting started.

A loud pounding startles me awake, and I roll over in bed to check the time on my phone. I went to sleep a few hours ago after Fallon and I ate dinner.

I whip open the door, and Dasher rushes toward Fallon. From what I can see, she’s wrapped in a blanket.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, hearing her teeth chatter.

“The heat’s out, and I’m turning into an ice cube.”

“I put extra blankets in your room,” I explain, feeling the chill in the air. “The furnace should still be working even with the power out.”

“Well, it’snot,” she whines. “And the blankets aren’t enough when it’s negative thirty outside.”

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