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Snow and Mistletoe

Page 7

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“No!” I don’t turn around, but the word echoes through the forest, silencing her.

I never dreamed she would be here, and now that she is, I can’t stand the thought of her leaving. It’s too dangerous for her to drive anywhere else, not that I would let her anyway.

“The weather is getting worse. You can’t drive in this.”

“I’m sorry, Alex. I just didn’t want to lose my job. I’m sorry I disturbed you on Christmas Eve. I saw the town just a few miles back. I can go to the motel there, and maybe we can talk after the holiday.”

“Stay!” I turn around quickly, throwing out the word before I have a chance to pull it back. I look away, not making eye contact and trying to keep my head turned so the worst of my scars aren’t facing her. “The motel is full. You can stay with me. I have a room.” I have no idea if the motel is full or not. I just don’t want Noelle to leave.

“I can’t put you out like that, Alex. I’m really sorry—”

“Just come inside. It’s freezing.” I wait for a second, and I see her turn to her Jeep and grab a bag out of the back. “You can stay the night. In the morning I can take you to the motel in town.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, and I turn to walk into the house. When I hear sound of her footsteps following behind me, I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding. How bad can this be? I can stay clear of her for one night. I can do this.

Right?

Chapter 5

Noelle

I quickly grab my bag from the passenger seat and follow in his wake, my heart pounding.

“You cold?” he asks, stomping his boots and shaking the snow from them on the front door mat. I follow his lead, doing the same, not wanting to track snow into his cabin.

“Ah, yeah.” It’s freezing out, but the wind seems to have more of a bite out here than it did in town. The cold cuts right through you out here. I could feel it rattle my car the further I got from the city.

I follow him into the cabin before pulling off my boots and placing them by the door. He does the same, keeping his back to me as he does it. I can’t help but stare at his broad shoulders. I thought he’d be a big guy as he has such a deep voice, but he’s even bigger than I imagined. He’s over six feet, probably coming in a good foot over my five two stature. Most people have a lot of inches on me, but he has more than most.

He turns his head a little, glancing over his shoulder at me. One deep blue eye meets mine. Loose, charcoal hair falls over his face, like he’s in need of a slight trim, and it blocks my view of his face. I’m dying to see it. It looked like he had a scar running down his forehead to his cheekbone when I saw him first. But with the dim light in the cabin and his hair blocking my view, it’s hard to tell.

He reminds me of one of the old romance heroes I read about in my mom’s old trashy novels. Everyone in the books seemed to carry a brooding aura around them. And were always blessed with dark hair and sharp blue eyes. It never failed time and time again that the heroes would be described that way. Whenever I’d pick up another one of her books, I could almost predict when it was going to say it, and now I seem to be standing mere feet from one, ripped straight from the pages.

I push the silly thought from my head because I’m once again living in my own fantasy, making real something that isn’t. I take a step toward him, unable to stop myself from reaching to move the hair out of his face. I don’t know what’s making me so bold, but I regret it instantly when he turns his head, giving me his broad back again, mumbling something I can’t quite catch.

It is almost like he doesn’t want to look at me or something. The thought sends a cold chill down my spine that has nothing to do with the weather. In fact, it’s kind of warm in here with me still all bundled up and a fire blazing at the far wall. I’m guessing this is the living room as a Christmas tree sits in the corner, colored lights dancing across it.

I’ve been dying to know what he looks like. I wanted to match a face to the man who’s been starring in my fantasies for the past few months. When I got out of the car, he took my breath away. I couldn’t even see him fully and I was entranced, just from being near him.

Being so close after wanting him for so long, I found his words were hard and nothing like I’d thought they’d be. At times he could be firm with me, like when I called him by his last name, or when it took me a few rings to pick up the phone when he called, but what happened outside was confusing and unsettling. It was like he wanted me to get the hell out of here. Only he didn’t really want me to leave at the same time.

“I…uh…” I say, trying to break the silence between us for the second time today. I’m totally getting fired. Hell, I kinda knew that when I popped on my audiobook and my voice wasn’t even on it. As much as I want to ask, I don’t feel like poking the bear he seems to have turned into.

I knew he was the silent broody type, but I didn’t think he bit. Now I’m not so sure. He could rip my heart to shreds with a few harsh words. Maybe this is why I spend so much time with my head in the clouds and my nose in books, dreaming in my own little world. This real-life romance shit is hard and scary.


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