Page 14 of When It Snows

She sits down across from me. “How’s your throat?”

Scarlett asking me about how I’m doing makes me feel all warm inside. Why? What is it with this woman? Why is she different? I’m not usually interested in getting to know women –except to sleep with them – but I want to know everything there is to know about Scarlett Harris.

“It’s better. Thanks.”

“Good.” She stretches her neck from side to side. “I wish I could say the same about my neck.”

“Too much sitting in front of your computer working?”

“More like I’m too old to be sleeping in a chair.”

I scowl. “You slept in a chair last night?”

She shrugs. “It wasn’t bad.”

“You should have slept in the bed.”

“I didn’t want to be too far away from you in case you were in distress.”

My heart flips at her words. I don’t remember a woman ever worrying about me being in distress before. Besides my mom, of course. It feels good to have someone worry about me. I’m usually the one worrying about everyone else.

“Thanks.” I reach across the table and squeeze her hand. Sparks fly from her skin to mine. What in the world? Judging by Scarlett’s wide eyes, she feels them as well.

I release her hand to pick up my spoon. I use it to dig around for the meat.

She frowns. “You should use your chopsticks for eating the noodles and chicken. The renge is for the broth.”

“Renge?”

“It’s the proper name for a ramen soup spoon.”

“Wow. You really do love everything Japanese.”

Her cheeks warm and I reach out to touch her hand again. The sparks could become an addiction. “I’m not teasing you. It’s merely a comment.”

“I know.”

I quickly squeeze her hand before reaching for the chopsticks. “I’m not sure I know how to use these.”

“You want help?”

I nod and she pushes to her feet. She comes around the table to stand behind me.

She grasps a chopstick. “Put this between your thumb and index finger.”

She places the chopstick in my hand. “Bend your ring finger and rest the other side of the chopstick on the tip of it.”

I bend my finger but she giggles. “Your ring finger not your middle finger.”

I try again. “Good job.”

“Now, use your thumb to grip the chopstick nice and tight.” I do as she says. “Great. Now the second chopstick.”

“Shit. I’m never going to manage another one.”

“Don’t be a baby.” She places the second chopstick on my index finger. “Use your thumb to hold it tight. If you bend your index finger, you should be able to grip now.”

I test out her theory and barely manage to not drop the chopsticks. “I never realized using chopsticks was this hard.”

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