Page 13 of Snowed In With the Mountain Man
She shook her head. And then, after a second, she turned to face him. “Thank you.”
The words came out so stilted and forced, he had to fight back a laugh.
She cleared her throat. “You didn’t have to wait with me, but… but I’m glad you did. I would have been trapped there all night and—”
“Don’t mention it.” He grinned. “I had fun.”
He felt her gawking stare. She was trying to suss out the teasing or the sarcasm in that statement, but she wouldn’t find any. Because he did have fun.
Odd as that might be.
Over the next few minutes, the silence was only broken by the occasional sigh from the passenger beside him.
“You all right?” he finally asked.
She sighed louder. “Just thinking of all the meetings I’ll have to rearrange. The excuses I’ll have to give.”
He arched his brows as he glanced over. “You don’t control the weather, Dahlia. They’ve got to understand that.”
Her answering look was baleful. “You try telling them.”
He chuckled. “Give me your phone and I will. I’m not afraid.”
One side of her mouth curved up in a rueful smile. “That’s because you haven’t met them.”
Another silence followed. He ought to just give her space. She’d be back to dealing with family drama soon enough, and it was clear she didn’t want to talk about any of it. But even as he told himself it was none of his business, he heard himself say, “Is that all that’s bothering you about being stuck here? The work thing?”
She was silent for a moment too long.
He’d like to think she was debating opening up to him—about how hard it was for her to let Rose grow up. How difficult it was to let new people into what had always been their small family.
That was what he’d seen, at least. When everyone else thought she was acting like a grumpy bossy-pants, all he’d seen was how much she was hurting.
In the end, she didn’t open up to him. Not surprising. Instead, she mumbled something about a game that he was sure he’d misheard.
He glanced over. “What was that?”
She drew in a deep breath and shook her head. “I’m going to miss a game I wanted to see, that’s all. Nash and Emma don’t have cable, so…”
His jaw dropped. “What game?”
She glanced over and shook her head. “Forget it. It’s not a big deal. What really matters is my job and—”
“Dahlia,” he interrupted. “What game?”
She huffed. “The Rangers.”
“Hockey?” He couldn’t have been more shocked if she’d said she wanted to watch him rope cattle.
She let out a short laugh at his expression. “I know, I know. I don’t seem the type. And like I said, it doesn’t really matter.”
But her voice said otherwise. She sounded outright dejected, and no, it likely wasn’t much to do with the game she’d be missing—but missing the game was one thing he could fix.
He caught the exit for Wellspring, a town about a tenth the size of Aspire, with a main thoroughfare that ran a whopping two blocks. But it had a bar. And more importantly, it was a sports bar.
He took the exit without giving it a second thought.
“Where are we going?”
