Page 75 of A Cozy Christmas Blizzard
“I think we’d better,” he mumbled.
She understood. The car had become their private cocoon, unexpectedly intimate and far too tempting. Under normal circumstances they wouldn’t have given each other more than a passing glance. What was happening now was magical, and far more exhilarating than the real life that seemed very far away right now.
With the wipers beating furiously against the window, Slade inched the car toward the exit, which proved to be less than a half mile away.
Slowly they crawled down the side road that paralleled the freeway. With some difficulty he was able to find a place to park in the restaurant lot. Shelly sighed with relief. This was the worst storm she could remember. Wrapping her coat securely around her, she reached for her purse.
“You ready?” she blurted out, opening her door.
“Anytime.”
Hurriedly he joined her, tightly grasping her elbow as they stepped together toward the entrance. Pausing just inside the door to stamp the snow from their shoes, theyglanced up to note that several other travelers were stranded there, as well.
They ordered hamburgers and coffee, and sat down by the window.
“How long do you think we’ll be here?” she asked, not really expecting an answer. She needed reassurance more than anything. This Christmas holiday hadn’t started out on the right foot. But of one thing she was confident: their plane hadn’t left Portland yet.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“I’ll say two hours, then,” she murmured, taking a bite of her burger.
“Why two hours?”
“I don’t know. It sounds reasonable. If I thought it would be longer than that I might start to panic. But, if worse comes to worst, I can think of less desirable places to spend Christmas. At least we won’t starve.”
He muttered something unintelligible under his breath and continued eating. When he finished, he excused himself and returned to the car for his briefcase.
She bought two more cups of coffee and propped her feet on the seat opposite her. Taking the latest issue ofMadfrom her purse, she was absorbed in the magazine by the time he returned. Her gaze dared him to comment on her reading material. Her love ofMadwas a long-standing joke between her and her father. He even read each issue himself so he could tease her about the contents. Since moving, she’d fallen behind by several issues and wanted to be prepared when she saw her dad again. She didn’t expect Slade to understand her tastes.
He gave her little more than a glance before reclaiming his seat and briskly opening theWall Street Journal.
Their reading choices said a lot about them, she realized.Rarely had two people been less alike. A lump grew in her throat. She liked Slade. He was the type of man she would willingly give upMadfor.
An hour later she contentedly set the magazine aside and reached in her purse for the romance novel she kept tucked away. It wasn’t often that she was so at ease with a man. She didn’t feel the overwhelming urge to keep a conversation going or fill the silence with chatter. They were comfortable together.
Without a word she went to the counter and bought a large order of fries and placed it in the middle of the table. Now and then, her eyes never leaving the printed page, she blindly reached for a fry. Once her groping hand bumped another, and her startled gaze collided with Slade’s.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“Don’t be. They’re for us both.”
“They get to be addictive, don’t they?”
“Sort of like reading theWall Street Journal?”
“I wondered if you’d comment on that.”
She laughed. “I was expecting you to mentionmychoice.”
“Madis exactly what I’d expect from you.” He said it in such a way that she couldn’t possibly be offended.
“At least we agree on one thing.”
He raised his thick brows in question.
“The fries.”
“Right.” Lifting one, he held it out for her.
