Frostbite

I suck in a deep breath and head across my studio toward the door, knowing that I’m about to come face-to-face with the beauty I can’t stop thinking about.

Sliding the door open with a tug, I straighten my stance. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Mr. Frost!” Mitzi Hemley greets me with a smile and a cup of coffee in each hand. “I brought you a little something to kick start your day.”

Since I wasn’t expecting to see the woman again, I cross my arms over my chest. “What can I do for you, Mitzi?”

“You can take these hot coffees off my hands.” She pushes both cups toward me. “Please.”

I take them because I don’t want to have to tend to her burns in addition to whatever brought her down here.

Stalking across the studio toward a table, I hear her boots tapping a beat behind as she follows me. “It’s crisp out there this morning, isn’t it?”

I wouldn’t know. I live in the loft above my studio, so I haven’t stepped outside yet.

Once I reach the table and place the coffees down, I turn to face her. “What brought you here today?”

She glances around the massive studio. “Bauer.”

Naturally. She’s as charmed with him as most women are.

“He’s working from home today,” I tell her. “I’ll be sure to tell him you dropped by.”

A frustrated noise escapes her. “I was hoping to buy one of his drawings. I’m celebrating, after all.”

I should be asking what the special occasion is, but I don’t give a damn.

“My painting sold for more than I thought it would at the auction last night.” Her entire face brightens with a smile. “Although I must say, I was somewhat disappointed that you didn’t bid on it. Bauer didn’t either.”

Scrubbing the back of my neck, I decide I better ask because I’ve never met an artist without a fragile ego other than myself. “What painting was yours?”

She throws her head back in laughter. “The one my husband bought, of course. He battled my sister until the end. I thought they’d cap the bidding at fifty dollars, but it went for twice that.”

Mitzi is an artist? I didn’t see that coming.

“Congratulations,” I offer, hoping this exchange is coming to a quick end.

She picks up one of the coffee cups and offers it to me. “Why don’t you enjoy this? I brought one for you and the other for Bauer.”

I take the cup. “Thank you.”

“That boy reminds me so much of my grandson.” She tugs the lid off the other cup. “He’s a lawyer. Life keeps him busy in Utah. I haven’t seen the dear soul in years.”

Her sudden attachment to Bauer makes sense.

“Why don’t you paint your grandson something special as a Christmas gift?” I ask before taking a sip from the cup.

It’s lukewarm, but otherwise, it’s not half-bad.

She opens her purse and removes a packet of sugar before she pours it into the cup. “Do you think he’d like that?”

“I think he’d love it,” I say, not having a fucking clue whether her grandson will appreciate the effort or not. “You should go straight to your studio and get started on it now.”

She picks up her coffee and swallows a mouthful. “I might do that.”

“You should.”

She takes a step closer to me, closing the distance between us until she’s almost on top of me. “Do you want to know something?”

I stare at her because her lips are lined so far away from her natural lip that I have to wonder if it’s bad eyesight or intentional. “What?”

“You’re not nearly as bad as everyone says you are.” She taps the side of her cup to the center of my chest. “I thought you were a grump, but maybe I had you all wrong.”

“Maybe you didn’t.”

Just as I register the voice saying those words as Raelyn’s, Mitzi jumps back in surprise at the interruption and in the process, the coffee inside the cup in her hand spills forward, splashing all over me.

Mitzi’s gaze volleys between Raelyn and me. “Oh, my word. Look at the mess I’ve made.”

Raelyn marches across the studio in knee-high black boots that apparently my cock likes because I feel myself hardening even though I’m covered in coffee.

“It was an accident,” Mitzi insists as she yanks a ball of what looks like used tissues from her purse. She starts dabbing them over my gray T-shirt.

“Or karma,” Raelyn says under her breath as she reaches us. “You’re going to want to get that in the wash as soon as possible.”

Stepping back, I reach for the bottom hem of the T-shirt and yank it over my head.

Mitzi’s gaze falls to my chest, but Raelyn keeps her eyes trained on mine. “I’m reporting for duty, sir. What should I do first?”Chapter 10RaelynIt’s taking every ounce of willpower I have not to stare at Calder’s chest. I glanced at it when he was taking his shirt off.