She stared me down.
I lifted my mug.
She looked like she wanted to lift a middle finger again and was barely restraining herself from doing so as she clenched her teeth and got out a terse “I can’t find it.”
“What?” I smirked tossing the rest of the whiskey back.
“Wood.” She crossed her arms.
My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. “Oh?”
She let out a sigh and threw her hands up in the air. “I looked where you said to look, I used the flashlight on my phone, and everything is covered in snow.”
“And you’re still here because . . .”
“I need help,” she said as she slowly eyed me up and down as if measuring to see if I was the sort of man who even knew how to light a match let alone build a fire. “Since you seem to own the place you should at least be able to look out the door and point, right? Or is that too difficult for your pea brain to manage?”
“Pea brain.” I snorted out a laugh. “Nice. If I wasn’t so intelligent and rich, I might actually be insulted. Then again, we aren’t in middle school, so . . .”
Her eyes flashed with fury. She was on the shorter side, and her coat was puffy enough to hide every single curve I’d taken notice of the minute I opened the door.
Fact, her skin was flawless.
Fact, her hair was shiny even though it was pulled up into a knot on the top of her head.
Fact, most women were manipulative, so the second I took notice, I’d looked away, and well, the minute she’d opened up her mouth, I realized that finding her attractive wasn’t going to be a problem. Finding a muzzle in this blizzard, however, would be.
I slowly stood, taking my time to stretch my legs after such a long car ride, lazily made my way toward the front door, then looked over my shoulder. “You coming or are you just going to wait until my back’s fully turned before you stab me with the kitchen knife?”
“I’m not a murderer.” She crossed her arms and stomped toward me, snow falling off her boots in a nice little trail that one of us would have to clean up later. “Just point and I’ll go since you don’t want to ruin your manicure.”
I barked out a laugh. “Manicure, wow, impressive you even know what that is.” I eyed her clenched hands and nodded. “Tell me, do you collect dirt in your fingernails as a hobby or is it just a fetish?” It was a lie; her fingernails were perfect, I just wanted a reaction.
She ground her teeth. Well that was my answer!
“Scientific experiments sound better. Maybe go with that. You’re a scientist and every speck of dirt counts. I like it.” If I wasn’t careful, she really was going to grab the knife. I jerked open the door and pointed to the north side of the house. “It’s against that wall. All you have to do is march in that direction, make sure you don’t get mauled by a bear, and collect enough wood to make sure we don’t freeze to death. Easy.”
“Bear.” She gulped. “As in, there’s only one bear and you’ve seen it? Or that there could be a bear?”
“Sorry.” I crossed my arms. “I meant bears, plural, but it’s winter, and they should be hibernating, so unless you’ve rolled naked in Nutella you should be good to go.”
“That’s your example?” she nearly screeched. “Naked in Nutella?”
“I’m tired.” I shrugged. “And conversing with you has officially taken up my quota of words for the day.” I jerked my head toward the wood pile. “Go.”
“Such a gentleman,” she muttered, shoving past me out into the night. I could have sworn she stomped the entire way to the side of the building.
A small part of me felt guilty for making her go out in the cold, but it quickly dissipated when I remembered the reason I was there.
The reason I was facing the snow in the country instead of a light rain in the city.
Mom.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as a flash of her perfume hit me, the sound of her laughter after skiing and coming back to the house to roast marshmallows.
Whoever this stranger was.
She had no business stomping around my memories and facing me at my worst. I needed to grieve, to sit in silence and wonder how everything went so fucking sideways when all I’d ever wanted was to just make it out of my family alive.
Take the company from my father.
Reconcile with my brother.
See my mother.
It all came true.
But it was wrong, like an alternate universe. Instead of being a part of the story of riding into the sunset with my fiancée and cutting a check for my brother saving the day.