Page 15 of Dad Bods and Blizzards

“Sorry, the house is old and drafty,” Woody says.

“How long have you lived here with it like that?”

“A year or so.”

“What brought you here? What do you guys do for work?”

“Security,” Griz says.

Her gaze lands on him for a beat too long. “My father’s business is home security.”

The room goes dead quiet except for the fire crackling. In the year we’ve been here, we’ve perfected fire building—a necessity when your house has no other heat source.

“We’re cybersecurity,” he adds. We can own that if needed since we’re actively training in it.

I try to pull away from the talk of her father. “If you’ll stay here, we’ll make this the non-drafty castle you deserve. Why don’t we get some food and get to know each other?”

“You mean there’s more to you than mountain men with dad bods who are oddly good at giving orgasms?”

I laugh. “I’ll accept that as part of our identity, but the—”

Griz’s phone pings, and his expression stiffens when he looks at the screen.

Ten

Naomi

Griz’s confidence shifts into something raw and restless as he shows the message to the other two men. Is it a message from my father?

Tubs rushes out of the living room and returns with a blanket, wrapping it around me. It helps with the physical chill, but an emotional one takes its place.

“Make yourself at home, Little Lamb. We need to handle this urgent business matter.” Griz kisses my cheek.

“Is everything okay?” I clutch the blanket tighter.

“Nothing for you to worry about.” Griz’s voice is too emphatic. “Kitchen’s through there. We won’t be long.”

Woody’s kiss on my cheek is so fleeting, he almost misses as he hurries down the hallway.

Tubs lingers as Griz ducks into the same room as Woody. He stretches his neck side to side and exhales hard. “I’m sorry. We’ll clear this up and…” His eyes hold pain. “We’ll explain everything. Why this house is so sparse. Why—”

“Tubs,” Griz calls out, getting immediate compliance.

I bite my lip, then step to the hallway entry. Their urgent whispers remind me of Dad’s hushed conversations I wasn’t privy to.

But are their secrets like my father’s? Will they hurt me? Nothing makes sense. These men didn’t accept me as part of a business deal. They donated millions to charity to win me. They treated me with more care than anyone has in years, particularly more than emptying my bank account and locking me in a room.

Woody’s voice escalates. “She deserves—”

“Not yet.” Griz’s response is sharp but he pulls his voice down quickly. I think he says, “Not until we’re sure…” It fades out.

I fight the urge to run. I have to get to the bottom of the secrets that made my father desperate enough to sell his only daughter. My best chance could be in that room. And as long as I play the part of the innocent little lamb, the princess in need of rescuing… Huh, Woody hasn’t given me a nickname. Anyway, as long as they underestimate me, I have the advantage.

“We need more time.” Griz’s voice comes in spurts and he seems to be pissed off by someone on the phone.

He storms out of the room so quickly, I don’t have time to move. He stutter-steps. Regrouping, he says, “We have to go. It might be a few hours. You’re safe here.”

Tubs grabs the bump in the blanket where my hands hold it closed. “Please, stay here, Princess.” Then he bolts after Griz.

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