Page 73 of Snowed In With the Mountain Man
She was trapped, for heaven’s sake. She was snowbound on a mountain with a man she hardly knew.
She should not be giddy.
But as she accepted the steaming mug of black coffee from JJ, there was no denying the flickering glow of happiness in her chest.And all because of a silly cup of coffee.She shook her head in exasperation.
But it wasn’t just this cup of coffee—it was the fact that suddenly she got it. That morning when he’d come to her office, he’d given herhiscoffee. Such a simple gesture. Not exactly a lavish gift by anyone’s standards. But something about it felt… intimate.
Like something a husband would do for his wife. Or a boyfriend for his girlfriend…
She turned toward the fire with a huff.Get a grip, Dahlia.
He was not her boyfriend, and he definitely was not her husband. Her gaze flickered over to the bed for what had to be the hundredth time. Most importantly, this was no honeymoon.
This cabin might have been a romantic getaway for Lizzy—and truthfully, Dahlia had no trouble picturing it. How cozy and romantic this little hut could be if you were here with the man you loved.
But this was not that.
She strode toward the windows and looked out, temporarily distracted from thoughts of beds and coffee and handsome mountain men, when she caught sight of just how much snow had already fallen.
“My goodness, that was quick,” she murmured.
The truck was already thoroughly coated in the thick snow that now blanketed every bit of green on the trees, and every fallen branch and brown, leafless shrubbery.
In no time at all, the world outside this window would be nothing more than a thick, white carpet. Watching it happen right before her eyes was equally mesmerizing and alarming. She was watching the world be reset.
A blank slate. A fresh start.
The thought made her ribs feel too tight and her lungs too shallow. The words JJ had said to her earlier came back and echoed through her mind.
“No one deserves to be treated like that, least of all you.”
Even now, those words made her throat tighten with emotions she wasn’t sure she knew how to name. It wasn’t gratitude. It wasn’t relief. But it was something like that.
It was the feeling of being seen. Appreciated. Of having someone tell her she deserved more than the hand she’d been dealt.
She leaned forward until her forehead rested against the cold glass and her breath fogged the window.
It was a feeling she hadn’t even known she’d needed.
“I’d bet everything I have that you deserve more respect than what you’re getting.”
Her breath hitched and her gaze caught on a single black bird that soared overhead, fighting against the strong wind.
Respect. Validation. To be seen and appreciated for her work. Wasn’t that all she’d ever wanted from her job?
Dahlia swallowed hard as age-old memories stirred. No, not just from her job. It was all she’d ever wanted, period. Growing up, that was all she’d needed. To have her mother, or teacher, or… oranyone, for that matter, recognize all she was doing. To say “thank you” or “good job” or just the odd “hey, well done, you” when she put aside her own childish wants to make sure Daisy passed her history test and that Rose ate her vegetables at dinner.
But no one ever did acknowledge what she’d done. What she’d given up. Instead, boys would marvel over Daisy’s beauty and charm, while teachers oohed and aahed over sweet Rose’s angelic nature.
Dahlia pulled back from the window with a rough exhale. Tears were stinging the backs of her eyes, but they made no sense. She was much too old to be dwelling on childhood woes, and she didn’t believe in wallowing in self-pity.
She turned away from the window to pace in front of the fire.
And besides, the issues she had with her boss weren’t at all the same. She didn’t even know why her thoughts had gone there. She wasn’t a child anymore. And she didn’t need validation from anyone—least of all some stranger she barely knew.
She took a sip of the coffee before remembering how hot it still was. She muttered a curse as it burned her tongue. The pain helped her to focus on the present. And the present was a disaster.
She cringed as she thought over what her bosses had said. They had been a little harsher than usual, but could she blame them?
