Frostbite

I walk over to the bedside table and glance down at my phone’s screen.

Unknown: What time can I expect you today?

I stare at the message. I don’t have any appointments booked. I’m not meeting anyone for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

I shrug it off as a wrong number and walk back over to the closet. I reach for a black and red plaid shirt just as my phone dings again.

I rush back over, wondering if it’s my mom.

Unknown: The best cure for a hangover is hard work, so aim to be at my studio within the hour.

I read the message twice before I scroll through my contact list to call my sister.

She answers on the first ring. “Rae, how are you feeling?”

“Confused,” I say quietly. “I think Calder Frost is texting me. Should he be texting me right now, Dex?”

She lets out a laugh. “Oh, damn. I was going to wake you up before I left, but I had a call from our pop-up shop manager in Philadelphia. I had to go into my studio to find an invoice for her.”

I should ask her if that situation got sorted out, but I’m on a path of selfishness right now, so I stay on course. “Does Calder Frost expect me to be at his studio today?”

“Yes.” The sound of a car horn in the background punctuates the word. “Bauer called me early this morning to say that in order to get the sculpture done in time for Christmas, Calder needs to start on it ASAP.”

I bow my head because there go my plans for the day.

“You’re okay with helping him, right?” Dexie asks. “I know we didn’t discuss it last night. If I put you in an awkward position, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

I didn’t say a word to her last night about Calder being the man I ran into on the sidewalk. I’m still trying to process that information myself.

“Dex,” I say her name while searching for the right words to gently tell her that although I appreciate that she’s letting me stay with her, I have to complete dozens of ornaments to fulfill the commitments I’ve made to my customers.

Before I can say another word, she does. “I know you have work to do, Rae. I’ll do whatever I can to help with that. Rocco has made me the happiest woman alive, and with the baby coming, I want to do something extra special to show him how much I love him.”

Guilt wraps its cold hand around my heart. I owe my sister so much. Not just because I always have a room at her home, but she’s one of the few people in this world who encouraged me to paint. If it wasn’t for Dexie, I might not have taken that chance on myself.

“I’ll get all my work done,” I assure her even though I don’t know if I believe it. “I’ll help Calder with whatever he needs so that sculpture is in the foyer on Christmas Day.”

“Thank you.” I hear the emotion in her voice. “I’m on my way to meet a supplier. I’ll text you the address to Calder’s studio as soon as I get there. I can’t tell you how much this means to me, Rae. You’re the best sister in the world.”

“No, you are,” I counter. “I’ll be waiting for the text. Have a good day, Dex.”

“I will,” she chirps. “Good luck today. I’ve heard artists can be a moody bunch.”

I half-laugh at the joke because she has no idea just how moody Calder Frost is.Chapter 9CalderI should be past the concept stage of this sculpture I’m hastily doing for Dexie Jones. Instead, I’m staring at the door of my studio, waiting for her sister to appear.

I haven’t been able to get Raelyn out of my mind since we officially met last night. That’s a fucking lie. I couldn’t stop thinking about her after we collided on the sidewalk.

There was something about her that made me want to stand in that snowstorm for hours just to stare at her.

Blonde hair, brown eyes, and a face that is beautiful, not just because of her bone structure.

As she gave me shit while snow fell around us, I saw both fire and kindness in her eyes. I saw grace and goodness.

I know she was holding back her anger.

She was right that night. I handled the situation poorly, but the message on my phone that lured my gaze down long enough for me to almost walk over her put me in a foul mood. It was from a delivery company apologizing for not getting one of my sculptures to its owner on time.

A knock at my studio’s sliding metal doors sends a shot of adrenaline through me.

I promised myself that I’d do everything in my power to keep my cock out of this, but it’s already stirring inside my jeans.