Page 12 of Snowed in with the Grump

I don’t know if it’s true, but pride won't let me admit defeat. I’m grateful I can be honest with Ava and not pretend to be okay.

I place a piece of firewood on the log and swing, but I hit it awkwardly. Pain lances through my injured shoulder, forcing me to drop the ax.

“Well, this is just great,” I grit through my teeth.

Ava's voice rings out. “Carter! Are you all right?”

“Fine.”

“Show me,” Ava says, pointing at my hand.

“It's nothing,” I mutter. I look up to see concern etched on her face.

“Look at your hand, Carter.”

A large splinter is stuck in the webbing between my fingers but fucked if I feel anything. “Doesn’t hurt.”

“We need to get it out,” she says with a determined look, rummaging through the first aid kit until she finds a pair of tweezers.

“It’s fine, Ava. Stop fussing.”

“What are you afraid of? That I'll remove your masculinity along with the splinter?”

Disarmed by her sass, I relent. She removes her gloves and cradles my hand, scrutinizing it.

Her touch is so gentle, her fingers warm against my frozen skin, her hands steady as she works.

“Got it,” Ava announces triumphantly, holding up the splinter like a trophy.

“Good work,” I say, focusing on the pain in my finger rather than the ache in my chest.

“Good thing it wasn't a rusty nail. You're grouchy already; no need to add rabies to the mix.” Ava smiles, her eyes urging me to go on.

“Think I'd be frothing at the mouth, snapping at everyone?”

She winks playfully. “You mean more than usual?”

I laugh. “Thank you.”

She holds my gaze without flinching. “For?”

“Not treating me like I’m made of glass. For not walking on eggshells around me.” My voice is thick with emotion.

Her smile is warm and inviting, making my heart do strange things. “Someone has to keep you on your toes, Soldier Boy.”

My rough edges and thorny exterior don’t intimidate Ava—she doesn’t shy away. It’s equally thrilling and terrifying because she sees through me.

Although my shoulder aches, the pain in my chest eases. Maybe letting someone take care of me for once won't kill me.

“Put your gloves on. Let’s get you back inside before you freeze.”

A light dusting of snow falls as we return to the cabin, our arms laden with supplies. I’m right behind her, stomping my boots before we stumble into the front hall.

“I'll unload the wood and come back to help you,” I tell her.

Ava takes the supplies we brought back from the shed into the kitchen. I return to the hallway to remove my damp coat and find her waiting.

“Here, let me,” Ava says softly, brushing the snow coating my shoulders.

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