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Snow and Mistletoe

Page 8

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“Follow me. I’ll show you where you can put your stuff,” he says without looking at me as he heads towards a hallway. It’s as if he wants to shove me into a room as quickly as possible. He won’t even look at me, and a lump starts to form in my throat. Forget it. I can’t do this.

“Maybe I should just…” I turn to grab the door handle, but I remember I don’t have my shoes on so I can’t make as quick of an escape as I’d like. Before I can turn to grab my shoes, big arms shoot out on either side of me, landing on the door. His warm body presses into mine.

“Don’t go.” His words are soft this time, and they tickle my ear. He doesn’t move, and I can’t seem to form any words with him pressed up against me like this. “Just let me show you to your room. You can take a warm bath if you like.”

“Okay.” The fight leaves my body at his deep, sensual voice. My answer comes out breathy, and it takes every muscle in my body to stop myself from leaning into him. I want to rub against him like a cat in heat. I’ve never done anything wanton in my life, but Alex makes me do a lot of things I’ve never done before. Like drive three hours in a snowstorm, pretending it was all about saving my job, when really I’m being a low-key stalker.

Maybe I can just say I’m cold or something if I rub against him. Oh my God, I’m totally trying to cop a feel! My cheeks burn with embarrassment at my own thoughts, but Alex still makes no move to release me. I can’t move until he drops the big arms that are caging me. God, how I wish I was facing the other way and staring into his dark blue eyes. I was so sure they would be brown when I pictured him, but my thoughts didn’t do those eyes justice.

“Don’t try to leave again.” The firmness in his voice is one I know all too well. I am about to tell him I’ll do whatever I want, but feeling him pressed against me banishes any thoughts I have of leaving this cabin. “It’s dark, the snow is falling thick, and the coyotes will be out.”

With that caution, the warmth of his body leaves mine, and I miss it instantly. Sadly, I think I could have stood like that all night and been utterly content. I turn, following him down the long hallway. The cabin is cute. It’s hard to make out much with so few lights on, but all the walls and floors are wooden. It’s rustic and homely and utterly perfect. The place looks like it was plucked right out of some catalogue. It would be the perfect place to spend Christmas.

The thought reminds me that it’s Christmas Eve. I haven’t heard anyone else, but I feel bad, not only for intruding but for possibly putting someone out of a bedroom. “Are we alone?” I’m prying for information, but I’m wondering if a girlfriend or someone like that is going to pop up.

“I’m always alone.” That makes me happy until the words really sink it.

He takes me upstairs, and we pass one door before we stop outside another. He turns the knob and pushes the door open. He half-turns to me, but the light is off, and I still can’t really make out his face. I can tell he has a strong jaw and nose, but seeing so little only makes me long to see more.

“Get some rest. I’m sure it was a long drive.” With that, he turns and heads down the stairs, his big body disappearing into the shadows of the cabin.

I go into the room he told me to take and flip on the nearby lamp. I ignore everything but the bed as I toss my bag onto it and let myself fall into its softness.

I’m always alone.

The words run through my mind over and over again. I couldn’t catch the tone he was saying them in. Was he alone before I got here, and he liked to be alone? Am I cramping his style? Or was he alone and didn’t like it?

I find being alone is bittersweet. It’s something I’d wanted for so long, to be able to get lost in myself without my mother clucking all around me. But now the silence is somewhat lonely. It’s funny, but that ache didn’t start to build until Alex came into my life. Now I’m starting to think he opened a door I’m never going to be able to close.

Chapter 6

Alex

I’ve tossed and turned for the past couple of hours, unable to do much else.

She’s here. She’s really here.

I hate that I’m a coward and completely unable to talk to her. I froze up the second I laid eyes on her, feeling things I’d never felt. We talked for so long, I felt like I knew her, but I wasn’t prepared for seeing her. Nothing could have prepared me for the reality of her beauty.

It’s Christmas Eve, and I feel like a kid waiting on Santa Claus to show up. Only Santa Claus is in my guest room upstairs and I’m scared shitless to go up there. If only there was a way to know what she’s thinking. Is she disgusted by my scars? Is she disappointed in what she found when she showed up? God, how I pictured meeting her, seeing a thousand different scenarios in my mind, none of which included her showing up here in the middle of a snowstorm and seeing all my scars.

Sighing, I roll over onto my back and look at the wooden ceiling. I don’t know what to do. I need a sign or something. I look over at the fireplace in my bedroom. I watch the burning embers and wish for a Christmas miracle.


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