Page 9 of Christmas Escape
“This is really a blizzard?”
We both glanced toward the window of her new makeshift office. If possible, the snow was coming down in an even thicker blanket now. The day had turned dark gray, and I couldn’t see the frame of the porch swing just feet from the back window. I looked at her. “Yeah…I’m going to pull the vehicles into the garage, but otherwise, I don’t think we’re going anywhere.”
Five
Melody
“I’m really sorry about the lasagna,” Caleb said for the third time in an hour.
We were sitting on the back porch, the fireplace crackling while we watched the snow fall steadily outside and shared a bowl of popcorn on the sofa.
“It’s fine,” I assured him, biting back a laugh. “But I have to ask, are you not a very good handyman?”
“I’m an excellent handyman,” he argued, puffing up his chest. “An excellent handyman who’s having a very bad day.”
Halfway through cooking the frozen lasagna, the igniter in his oven had gone out. I’d thought it was hilarious, but Caleb seemed overly frustrated by the situation.
“We could run it over to the cabin,” I suggested, smiling against the rim of my mug before taking a sip of the peppermint tea inside. “If we turn on the gas and set the pan on the counter, it would be cooked by morning.”
“And here I thought you were a nice girl,” he said, settling back against the sofa and staring up at the ceiling with a sigh. “Today was a massive disaster.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said softly, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. “I’ve had worse.”
It was strange how relaxed I felt with him already. At first, I’d been hesitant about sharing his home with him. He was a nice man, but he was still a stranger. But now, I was quite glad I’d agreed.
“So, you’re a writer?” he said, rolling his head to the side to look at me. “What are you working on right now?”
“Well, I’ve been working on my first novel for about three years,” I admitted. “Mostly, I write fluff pieces for women’s magazines.”
“Like the top ten ways to keep bounce in your hair?” he asked.
For a moment, I thought he was making fun of me, but when I studied his face, he seemed genuinely curious.
“Not quite,” I said. “I don’t write aboutactualfluff.”
He chuckled, and it made me smile. He had a nice laugh. It was deep and rich and warm, and it made his blue eyes sparkle in the firelight.
Damn, Caleb was really handsome. Chiseled, buff, and flannel-clad, he was exactly what I’d expect a small-town handyman to be—orsmall cityas he claimed. He was like every Hallmark Christmas movie hero brought to life in one mouthwatering package.
“A novel,” he said after the silence had stretched a little too long, our gazes locked a little too intensely. “Will you tell me about it?”
“Oh, no.” I shook my head. “It’s bad luck to talk about an unfinished novel.”
His brow furrowed. “I’ve never heard that.”
“Well, I just made it up.” I grinned at him. “But it feels right.”
“Fair enough,” he agreed. “You can tell me when you’re ready.”
That statement made it sound as if we’d still be speaking to each other after Christmas. Weeks or months from now. As if, I’d curl up against him, maybe on this very porch, and talk him through my story, perhaps even asking his opinion.
The thought made my heart ache.
I wasn’t against relationships. I knew my parents weren’t a shining example of couplely bliss, but I also knew plenty of marriages worked out. I’d just never really pictured myself with someone. At all.
Now, though… I didn’t want to leave without discovering if Caleb really was as special as he seemed. Maybe, it was the snow, the cozy setting, the warmth radiating from his body where he sat next to me. But something was putting romantic thoughts in my head, and it was probably best for me to ignore them.
No good could come from falling for a man I’d just met. He lived closer to Canada than he lived to me. Long distance rarely worked. Heck, I’d written articles about the challenges faced in such a situationship. Moreover, I couldn’t pick up and move here, and there was no way he’d leave the home he owned, his family or his businesses to try to make a life with me.
