Page 57 of Snowed In on Valentine's Day

“Um, thanks,” I said, turning around once I reached the porch and he stood below the steps. “I guess … have a nice day.”

He nodded, and maybe he would have replied, but I flashed a polite smile and turned quickly to go into my house. I shut the door without looking back at him and slumped against it.

It was a surprisingly good walk.

So what was this angst in the pit of my stomach?

As I took off my coat and boots, I vowed to not think about it. It was a pleasant excursion, but probably a one-time thing. Surely he’d see that we weren’t compatible as friends—if he didn’t already see that—and he wouldn’t ask me to accompany him again.

*****

Two days later, I was exhausted from staying up almost all night. The previous afternoon I’d met with Roxy along with Jeff, who was Mariana’s financial advisor. Feeling inspired, I’d spent the entire evening hunched over my computer jotting down ideas and research for my new business idea. Needless to say, I was exhausted this morning when Sofia called me at 9 am, as I’d only gone to bed two hours earlier.

Supportive as ever, Sofia had many tips to share on overcoming writer’s block while also giving me some firm nudges to get to work. I decided to commit to doing a small amount of writing and/or book research each day—a modest amount, really, but it would help me to avoid overwhelm.

Still, trying to write on only two hours of sleep wasn’t working well, and I was struggling to focus on the screen as I lay half-reclined on the couch with my laptop.

I could take a nap.

Naps always helped.

Somehow, I managed to drag myself off the couch to nap in my bedroom, where my night cap and cozy blankets were. I’d just taken off my slippers when I heard knocking.

With my brows furrowed, I wondered who that could be. Everyone I knew always used the doorbell. Yawning, I padded to the front door in my bare feet and opened the door.

The cool blue eyes captured my attention first, followed by the rosy cheeks and visible exhalation from the mouth of one Peter Auclair. The mouth I’d kissed.

Why did I think ofthat?

I was sure my cheeks were rosy too as I swallowed and greeted him.

“Hello, Hazel,” he said with his usual fixed expression. “Are you ready?”

I squinted at his face and then looked around us both as if there was something or someone else I’d missed. “What—ready for what?”

Impatience briefly flared on his face before he said, “For our walk.”

My mind raced as I fumbled through words. “For—uh, did we—I’m sorry. I don’t think I remember making plans with you today.” Or ever.

I was exhausted, but I’m pretty sure I would’ve remembered agreeing to another walk.

He sighed. “You agreed to accompany me on my daily walks. Did you forget what time?”

My mouth gaping, I nodded and then shook my head.

“You must have forgotten. That’s why you didn’t answer the door yesterday.”

He came over yesterday?

What?

“Um, I had a business meeting yesterday afternoon. Sorry you came when I wasn’t here. But—”

“It’s fine. Can you hurry and get ready? It’s cold just standing here.” I noticed a muscle ticked in his jaw.

I took a steadying breath. “I didn’t think—we weren’t really—” I looked into his eyes then, which held a hint of vulnerability. I probably imagined it, but I paused to considermy next words. “Do you really want to start walking together every day?” I could hear the disbelief in my voice.

He sighed. “Yes.” His eyes never left mine. “That’s why I’m here. We agreed, did we not?”

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