Snowed In with Her Ex

A disgruntled rumble sounded from Bree’s belly.

So much for locking herself in the bedroom. She’d been up here a half hour and the rumblings of hunger pangs had already begun. She’d stopped for a quick bite on the road to follow up the granola bar she’d scarfed down before she left her apartment, but that had burned off. She could distract herself by unpacking her things and assembling her toiletries in the bathroom, but that would buy her minutes, not hours.

She needed to eat. And more important, she needed to desensitize herself to Ian. Perhaps the more they were together, the easier it would be. Either way, she couldn’t ignore the inevitable. Eventually, Bree would have to go back downstairs and face him.

* * *

“Okay, I’m officially starving.”

Ian looked up from his laptop to see Bree in the kitchen, searching the cabinets. He’d spent an hour or so staying as far as possible from her and focusing on work. After what had happened this afternoon, that seemed like the best idea. He wasn’t entirely sure what had gotten into him. He’d been angry with Bree only moments before, and then suddenly, he had needed to touch her.

Relationships weren’t exactly Ian’s strong suit. He’d actually had very few that he’d even characterize as “relationships.” He’d only been in love once, with Bree, and that whole thing had bitten him in the ass. From then on, dating had taken a backseat to work, and emotions usually had no role in the process. But he’d never been unfaithful to a woman. That just wasn’t in his blood. Besides, he was usually too busy with work to make one woman happy, much less two or three.

But here, now, for the first time, he was tempted. So tempted. How many times over the years had his thoughts strayed to Bree and where she was and what she was doing? And then to have her practically dropped into his lap by a weird twist of fate and weather...

Time had been good to Bree. He watched as she opened every single cabinet door, making thoughtful sounds as she moved around the gourmet, U-shaped kitchen. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, giving Missy a run for her money—and without three hours in the hair and makeup chairs to get there. She still had long honey-gold hair, which at some point today she’d pulled it into a messy knot at the back of her head. Her baby-blue eyes were just as bright. The freckles across her nose had faded, but she still had the same charming smile.

She looked almost exactly the way she had when she’d been his. It was hard for his brain and his body to recognize that was no longer the case. When his fingertips had brushed across her pink lips, they’d parted seductively, nearly begging him to kiss her. And he’d wanted to. Man, he’d wanted to.

Which was why he’d walked away. Why he had to stay away from Bree Harper.

Shaking away the unproductive thoughts, he looked down at his watch. It was after five. Food was probably a good idea. Bree had ended her quest at the refrigerator.

“Champagne, strawberries, spinach, brie...fancy stuff. Perfect if you’re having acquaintances over for a wine soiree.” Her blond head popped up over the door to look at him. “You don’t happen to have makings for a cheeseburger tucked away in here, do you?”

He shook his head. “No, sorry. Missy doesn’t eat red meat and she says that since she got pregnant, watching me eat it makes her ill.”

Bree’s lips twisted in thought. She eyeballed a loaf of sourdough bread on the counter and looked back inside the refrigerator. “How about grilled cheese and tomato soup?”

Ian’s brow went up with curiosity. “Are you offering to cook us dinner?” The Bree he knew from college wasn’t much of a culinary wizard. Of course, living in a dorm didn’t exactly lend itself to cooking.

She shrugged, tossing a block of gruyere onto the counter. “One of us has to do it unless you have a personal chef hidden away somewhere.”

“No.” He chuckled. “I like to keep things more casual here, so I don’t keep any staff.”

“You have staff at home?” she asked while slicing the cheese on a wooden cutting board.

“I just have Winnie. She’s... Well...I pretty much pay her to be my wife.”

At that, the cutting stopped and Bree looked up. “Care to clarify that?”

“She takes care of everything at home so I can focus on work. Winnie cleans the house and does the grocery shopping. She cooks. She does my laundry and picks up my dry cleaning. Winnie pretty much does everything a wife who works in the home would do. I don’t know how I’d survive without her.”

Bree retrieved a skillet and a pot from the cabinet and put them on the blue flames of the stove. “Sounds handy.”

“She is. I’m going to miss her when Missy moves in.”

“Why is she leaving?”

That was a damn good question. “Missy is...particular. She has her own staff, which includes a housekeeper, a chef, a personal trainer and a personal assistant. She insisted there was no need to keep Winnie on when she moved in with her entourage. Once we add the nanny, that’s just way too many people, although I hate to do it. I’m giving Winnie a huge severance package and I’m trying to find a new position for her.”

Ian didn’t mention that Winnie was relieved to be laid off. He got the distinct impression that she had no interest in looking after the pop princess. He didn’t blame her. Missy was a handful.

He watched Bree at the stove. She had the tomato soup simmering and the sandwiches were turning perfectly golden and toasty in the skillet. He watched her give them an expert flip and then slip them onto a plate. The Gruyère cheese was oozing out the sides with crispy burned edges. She ladled the soup into big soup mugs and put them beside the sandwich.

“It may not be the gourmet meal a kitchen this grand calls for, but I can’t think of anything else more perfect for a cold day in the mountains.”

Ian picked up both plates and carried them into the dining room. “I agree. It smells great. I don’t think I’ve had tomato soup since I was a kid.”