Twelve
Miriam awoke to a scraping sound, which she’d grown accustomed to over the many winters she’d spent in living in Montana. It was the sound of a shovel sliding over concrete and sweeping the snow aside. She stretched her arms overhead and let out a shudder from the chill in the room. It was a touch colder in here than it’d been yesterday.
Last night she’d retreated to her room to think—or not to think, as it turned out. She’d pulled out her iPad and watched YouTube videos about yoga and how to truss a turkey. She’d watched makeup tutorials and learned how to build a “capsule wardrobe.” She’d checked her social media and used her meditation app and played a colorful puzzle game on her iPhone. None of those distractions took her mind off Chase.
Or how she’d walked away last night when what she’d wanted to do was say not just yes, but hell yes to his offer. He’d told her the truth about what he wanted, and she hadn’t been brave enough to do the same for him.
“When did you become such a coward?” It wasn’t like she could hide from him the entire time she was here.
She peeked through the curtains and saw that Chase did indeed own boots. He was wearing a pair, and hunks of snow covered his knit hat and black coat. He hefted another heavy shovel load and stopped to take a breather. How long had he been out there?
He looked cold, his face red from windburn, and the snow wasn’t slowing. The area he’d cleared was already filling in with fresh flakes.
Well. She wasn’t going to stay ensconced in her bedroom like a princess in a castle. She wasn’t afraid of hard work. She layered a pair of yoga pants under her jeans and slipped her feet into two pairs of socks before pulling on her boots. By the time she buttoned her coat and stepped into the garage—after first finding the door to the garage in the massive house—she blinked in surprise at what she saw.
Not at Chase’s new SUV, which he’d purchased after landing in Bigfork, but by what sat next to it. Her truck. He’d found her keys and then shoveled her out before parking her truck in a spot next to his. She skirted a puddle of melted snow, in search of a shovel to help him in his endeavors, kicking a gas can on the way. She nudged it with her boot. Empty.
He’d filled her tank.
She shut the cabinet and punched the button for the garage door, watching as it rolled up and revealed first a pair of tied boots, then snow-covered jeans and then his long wool coat. When the door sat at the top of its hinges, the rest of Chase was revealed—his breath visible from parted lips, a knit hat pulled snugly over his ears, snowflakes nestled in his thick lashes... Just the sexiest man alive.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you be packing all that snow against the door to keep me here?”
He grinned, a puff of steam escaping his mouth. She joined him outside, the air blasting her face shockingly cold compared to the much warmer garage. The air iced her lungs, but she couldn’t help admiring the view. She walked across the mostly cleared driveway, stopping short of the three feet of snow lining the edge to look out beyond the lake. Sturdy green pines were coated in snow, their limbs drooping from the weight. The lake was frozen—at least on the surface, and a gust of wind swirled the snow over it.
“Beautiful,” she sighed.
“Gorgeous.” Chase agreed, but when she looked back at him, his hand was resting on the shovel’s handle, his eyes were unmistakably on her.
He broke the tender moment with, “I forgot how cold it is up here. Remind me to visit in the summer next time.”
“You filled up my truck. You’re clearing the driveway. Trying to get rid of me?”
“You know that’s not true.”
“I came out to help.”
“I’m almost done.”
“You should go in. The cold has a way of creeping up on you out here. You’re not used to it.” She slipped one glove off and touched his face. It was like the chilly air was embedded in his cheek. “You’re freezing, Chase. Come inside and warm up.”
Sensuality crept into her voice without her permission. She let the offer dangle while he watched her carefully.
“Will you build a fire for me?” she asked.
“Am I to believe that you, the wilderness woman, can’t build a fire for yourself?”
“I can build a fire better than you can,” she said, pulling her glove back on. “But I want you to do it for me. It’ll help you warm up.”
Without waiting for his answer, she turned and strolled through the garage, around their cars and back inside. To her everlasting satisfaction, he didn’t stay outside to prove he could shovel the driveway. He followed her in.
* * *
Well, this is new.
Much as he hated to leave a task incomplete, he couldn’t resist following Mimi inside for a couple of reasons. First off, she was right, he needed to warm up. He’d been out there so long his fingers were stiff and his legs felt like popsicles.
She hung her coat and tugged off her gloves. “I suggest you slip into something warmer before making that fire.”