Page 61 of Snowed In With the Mountain Man
“You’re just being nice,” she muttered as she looked out the window.
“Yeah, that’s me,” he said, not trying to hide his amusement. “Mr. Nice Guy. Always blowing smoke, trying to make people feel good.”
She made a choking sound that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “That’s not what I meant.”
“No, you’re right,” he continued. “Everyone knows I’m a charmer. Slick and savvy, that’s me—”
“Is that so?” She shot him a funny, narrow-eyed look as he continued.
“JJ the silver-tongued sweetheart, that’s what they call me,” he drawled.
She snickered, and he grinned over at her.
“It’s true,” he continued, loving the way her lips were fighting the battle with a smile. “I’m just a shameless flirt.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s nothing to do with you personally.” He grinned, giving away his outrageous lie.
Her cheeks were bright red now as she rolled her lips between her teeth, her eyes dancing with laughter. “Not personal, huh?”
“No, ma’am.” He let his Southern accent come out to play. “I take every beautiful woman I meet out ice fishin’.”
She laughed then, and the sound was so sweet and girly, he felt a burst of affection so intense it made his heart swollen and achy.
“I hope you didn’t get the wrong idea,” he continued, shooting her a lopsided smile. “You’re about the tenth gorgeous woman this month who I’ve brought back to the bunkhouse for a home-cooked fish dinner.”
“Uh-huh.” Her voice was light with laughter. “I see how it is. You lure in all the ladies by gutting fish, huh?”
His head fell back with a laugh. “That’s right.” He shot her a quick glance. “But you’re the first I’ve walked home after.”
She arched her brows, her eyes still filled with amusement. “Is that right?”
“And I can safely say you’re the only ice fishing partner I’ve ever asked if I could kiss good night.”
Her grin was magic. “I guess I’m a lucky lady, then.”
He feigned humility with a shrug. “Some might say that.”
For a heartbeat, she held his gaze, and he felt that connection as surely as if she’d struck him with a cattle prod. Then she looked away, staring out the window. But her posture was a little more at ease.
“So, Nash said we’re stopping by your cabin first?”
“If you don’t mind.” He nodded. “My cabin is old, and while she’s withstood more than her fair share of winter storms, I’d still like to make sure it’s ready for all the snow coming our way.”
He felt her stare as he kept his gaze on the road. Part of him tensed as her silence drew out.
It would only be natural to ask questions about his cabin, and he typically avoided all talk of how he came to own this land… and why.
But this tension was different. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell her, just… he wasn’t sure how. Or where to start.
But he had a weird urge to talk about it. A first since he’d come to this state.
“How old is it?” she asked.
“It was built at the turn of the century. The exact date isn’t clear, but it goes back to at least the late 1800s.”
“Wow.” She shifted so she was facing him. “How’d you come to own it? Was it in your family or something? I mean, I know you grew up in South Carolina, but…”
