Page 33 of Snowed in with the Grump

I snuggle deeper into the blanket, content and safe. After a while, my eyelids grow heavy. But as I drift off, Carter touches my cheek, gently rousing me from my drowsiness.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t remember the last time I smiled or laughed this much. Being here with you is so special.”

The honest sentiment makes my heart flutter. “For me, too.”

He takes a deep breath, his gaze never leaving mine.

“We've been friends for a long time, but I can’t ignore how I feel anymore. I need to tell you something.”

I prop myself up on my elbow, studying his face. His eyes are dark and intense, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“What is it?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” I whisper, hardly daring to believe he feels the same way I do.

And then his mouth is on mine, his kiss fierce and hungry. I lose myself in the heat of his embrace.

Outside, the storm rages on, but inside, we're consumed by a different tempest.

CHAPTER11

AVA

Later that night, I jerk awake to Carter's anguished cries. He thrashes in his sleep, trapped in the throes of a nightmare.

I grab his shoulders and shake him firmly.

“Carter, wake up!”

His eyes fly open, wild and unseeing, and his muscular chest heaves with each ragged breath. He looks so vulnerable–nothing like the stoic man I know.

“Hey, it's okay. You're safe,” I murmur soothingly.

I wrap my arms around him and hug his body close. I stroke his sweat-dampened hair until his rapid breathing slows.

“Only a bad dream,” he mumbles, avoiding my gaze.

His body is tense, poised for flight.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask gently as he trembles in my embrace.

Carter glances away, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

“Nothing to say. Try to get some rest,” he mutters, his voice gruff. “Forget this ever happened.”

I reluctantly settle under the covers, keeping a little distance to give Carter space. My mind spins with concern as I listen to his breathing eventually even out in sleep.

In the morning, Carter is already up and dressed when I wake. I find him sipping coffee in the kitchen, his handsome face unreadable.

“Hey, you,” I say carefully. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine,” he replies automatically, avoiding my eyes. He's closed himself off, hiding behind the solitary facade again.

We go through our morning routine quietly. Carter responds if spoken to but makes no other attempt at conversation. Cold distance replaces the easy intimacy we’ve shared over the past few days.

As we prepare a simple lunch, I can't hold back any longer. “Carter, about last night–”

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